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usetheeauthor · 2 years

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How To Be King

Sub!Viserys III Targaryen x Wildling!Fem!Plus!Reader

Fluff/Smut/Angst (18+ MDNI)

Enemies to Lovers

Summary: You find the very drunk Viserys stumbling into your village. Although, you find his abrasiveness to be quite irritating, you take pity on him when you learn of his past. All he wants is an army and to reclaim his position. You willingly decide to teach him the ways of gaining support in exchange for an alliance between your people. What you didn’t expect was to find love within each other. A love that Viserys has been starved of for so long.

A/N: Wrote this for myself but I’ve decided to share it with anyone interested because sharing is caring. Even though this guy’s a monster he can get it. Idk I have such a thing for villains. I hope you enjoy. It’s s long one but the story’s worth it, I think. I also pulled some dialogue from the show to capture his personality so he’s not too ooc. This is probably inaccurately based on the show, I watch the show but know little history about it or the books so it’s all loosely based.

Word Count: 8.9k+

Warnings: loosely based GOT knowledge, blood and violence, graphic language, Viserys being an annoying brat, Reader and Viserys slap each other, lots of kissing, touch!starved Viserys, pining, mommy kink, soft dom!reader, p in v unprotected, spit kink, creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia, passionate sex, handjob, lots of fluff and angst, sad ending

The air was cool. The leaves on the abundant trees were slowly dying, falling to the ground in colors of red, orange, and brown. Winter would only come a month from now but your people were prepared for anything.

Your people came from all over the Seven Kingdoms. All of you having in common the idea that freedom was better than kneel before a King or Queen who couldn’t give a horse’s ass about its people. You’d rather fight to be free. Why worship false gods when the Old Gods of forest were there watching over you all, hoping its people will one day return to their rightful place under their heavenly kingdom?

You took pride in the decision you made to renounce your herd mentality. Once the wife of a nobleman in the Winterfell, you were immediately banished from the land when you expressed your concerns of worshipping a leader when the Gods intended you to be free from the ruling of man.

Tormund Giantsbane took you in seeing you as his adoptive sister. You were the one to help him make any decisions in case he faced any challenges. Together, Tormund and you worked to strengthen your people as a rogue tribe. People tend to look down on you free folk but neither of you cared. The words of “kneelers” or those within the walls of the seven kingdoms meant nothing to you. You were all happy.

It was a lively night. Your people were celebrating the night away with no particular occasion in mind. People drank from the special wine, music swelled in the air, children played, a silly theater show was broadcasted for entertainment, young lovers fucking whomever they desired…a typical wildling celebration.

Tormund was pissed drunk but you enjoyed seeing him smile. Ygritte enjoyed her time, as well, drinking amongst the men and telling hunting stories of her time in the woods with the hunting pack. You walked through the camp, admiring the joy of your people when you spotted a figured in the dark stumbling towards your direction.

You carefully drew your bow and arrow from you back holster, pointing it in the direction of the intruder.

“Who goes there?” You call out.

The dark figure continues forward until the orange light from the flaming torches cascaded over them. It was a handsome young man with silver white and quite visibly drunk. You couldn’t see him as a threat for how thin he was compared to you but once you noticed the sword he carried you raised your bow higher and aimed.

“Don’t take a step any closer or I will shoot,” You threatened. “Who are you?”

“I am the rightful king of the iron throne. I am the dragon. Kneel before me.” His words are slurred and trips over his feet.

A look of confusion paints your face. This man was clearly not well. Not only had he shown up unannounced to your territory with no aide in sight but he claims to be a king.

“I will not kneel. I kneel to no one. I’ll ask that you leave where you’ve came or else it will not end well for you.”

“Are you threatening me?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes.” You challenged.

The man makes his way towards you and, without thinking, you let go of the bow. The arrow shoots straight through his shoulder and, not a second after, he’s howling in pain. Alerting the warriors of the camp, including Tormund, to make their way over the end of the camp where you stood.

“What goes on here?” Tormund questions, looking down at the man wailing and cradling his shoulder then back at you.

“This man…” You were in a panic. “He came to our grounds claiming to be the King of the Iron Throne. He approached me further when I specifically asked him not to do so. I let go in fear. I would’ve only let go for a warning shot. Not to hurt him.”

“You did what you could to defend yourself. Do you wish to put him out of his misery? I can take him somewhere so no one will see.”

“No, brother. I’d like to take him to our healer’s tent. He’s only but a drunken fool. It’s not merely enough a reason for a death sentence.”

Tormund sighs his frustration. “You are too nice for your own good. Men please carry the cunt to our healer for some attention to the wound.”

You smiled, greatly appreciating him for taking in your suggestions. Ygritte looks wry with the decision.

“Everything alright, sister?”

“That silver hair. I’ve heard stories about it. About a family who all shared that color hair. Maybe he’s a king after all.” Ygritte says, downing her wine before heading back with the others.

You stood there alone in the path between shadow and light. Looking down at the pool of blood, you reflected on his words. Maybe when he came to you could inquire him about the meaning of his behavior. If he’s not dead by morning, that is.

————

You awoke and your mind immediately thought back to the silver-haired man. You had a vision last night. The vision told you the story of a family of silver hair like the ones Ygritte told you about. Only it went further. They were royalty. They had power, dragons, the iron thrown built of swords. Yet, there rise quickly reached its peak before crashing and burning at the hands of the Lannisters.

You needed to see him. You hoped he’s okay. Your intentions weren’t to hurt him. Maybe there were some truths to his statements. If he were a beggar, would he be dressed in neatly kept garbs? Would he don a sword made of Valyrion steel? Of course not. This man was of some importance.

Visiting the medic tent, you spotted the man in his cot. He’s sound asleep. He actually looked so sweet and innocent. Tormund had beat you to the visit, currently conversing with the Healer about the foreigner.

You slowly approached them, giving your greetings. “I take that I’ve not murdered anyone. I hope.”

The healer laughs. “No. He’s in stable condition just in slumber from the doses of medicine that I’ve given him to ingest. I’ll look further into his wounds. Clean them up.”

The medic walks away leaving you and Tormund for conversation. Tormund glares at you clearly still processing why he’d decided to listen to your request to save the man.

“We’re wasting good herbs on this man, Y/N. Herbs that could be supplied to our people who could be in need of it someday.”

“You understand that we can scavenge for more. We do it nearly every time we go for a hunt. It’s not a waste to save the life of a man especially if he is who he says he is.”

“You couldn’t possibly believe this loiter-sack was once king.”

“Maybe not once king. But he could’ve been sworn to be one someday. I had a vision of a royal family. All with silver hair. They were the true rulers of the Seven Kingdoms until conquered by Lannister swines.”

“Okay,” He nods, knowing that the information from your dreams are usually true. “But even if he’s sworn to be king, what should it matter to us? We serve no one.”

“Yes, but we could possibly have an ally. Winter is coming, Tormund. We’ve prepared for it yet not enough. If we have him as an ally, we could receive goods for our people.”

“This man owns nothing. He’s as useful as a cum rag. The Lannisters own his arse, if anything. Why not throw him to the lions and get our reward?”

“Because that’s not who we are, brother. Regardless of what the kneelers say about us, we are not barbaric or savage. I just want more for our people. I understand you wish the same. You’re a great leader. Everyone sees it. Your daughters, your men…me. But just listen to this option. You don’t have to if you don’t wish to but at least spare the man’s life.”

“If I were to agree, what is your plan?”

“This man’s family once ruled dragons. It’s possible they still do.”

“Own dragons and yet still lost the war to the Lannisters? How?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure but it’s possible he can conquer the throne again. If you’d let me, I’d like to speak with him and have a word. Maybe figuring out his motivations for being here.”

“It’s dangerous game you’re playing, sister. We can’t involve ourselves in these petty fights between kingdoms.”

“I understand but what’s a little bit of risk for a big amount of payoff. I know you’ve always wanted to own enough booze to make a grown man cry. Here’s our chance!” You say, smiling and nudging him.

He groans. “You’re incredibly stubborn but I will give this scheme some thought. You may speak to the man. After all, you’ve nearly killed him. It’s only right to face him.”

You hugged him. “Thank you! You will not regret it.”

“Not sure if you could say that just yet. How are you going to turn the bumbling fool into a king?” He asks.

You looked down at the man sleeping soundly and contemplated. “Well, I was once the wife of a nobleman. If this man needs an army, then diplomacy is the start.”

—————

Viserys opened his eyes to find you sitting in a chair beside his bed. He groans in pain, sitting up. As if the recollections of what happened last night crashed into him all at once, his pained look quickly shifts to anger.

“You! You shot me.” He sneers.

“I warned you not to step any further. You did so I made my choice. We both made choices last night.”

“Enlighten me. What was my choice, then? To die!”

“Yes! If you wished to attack me, then death would of been the result for you. You’re not dead because I simply chose to spare your life. You’re welcome.”

“Should I be gratuitous? I was at death’s door. You spared me not. I clawed my way back to life simply because I am a dragon.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to me? I don’t understand the language of kneelers.”

“You wretched uncultured swine. You and your people have disrespected me enough. I don’t know what I was thinking coming to wildling territory for any negotiations.”

“You sickly little weasel. I should’ve let you rot on the ground where you sobbed for your mommy.”

“Slandering of a king is punishable by death.”

“Good thing there is no king here.” You hissed.

Raising a hand, he smacks you across your face. Your face turned to the side and your hair sprawled across it by the impact. You turned back to face him slowly, licking lips to taste the saltiness of blood on them. You’re lip split from the hit. You see red. Red with pure rage like a bull locked on its target.

“That’ll teach you, pudgy woman.”

Jumping up on the bed and straddling him, you smacked one cheek then the other. He lets out a high-pitched yelps with each smack before taking his good arm to choke you. You choke him back.

Suddenly, a throat clears behind you. The two of you halting in your actions, eyes following the sound. It was the healer, standing awkwardly while he tried to understand what exactly he’d just witnessed.

You cleared your throat. “Sorry about that, Oden. This was nothing. I just felt the need to help this man with his poor, poor shoulder,” You slammed a fist hard against his wounded shoulder causing him to cry out and let your throat go. You hop off the bed and awkwardly played with your braid. “Well, I should be going now. The hunt begins soon.”

With that, you scurried out of the room feeling the healer and the silver haired man’s burning stare on you. Of course, this conversation had been an epic fail and you’ve accomplished nothing. The nerve of this man. How was one supposed to obtain an army if he was this unbelievably insufferable? No one would ever want to rule under this man. Maybe Tormund had been right.

—————

Tormund could see that you were noticeably pissed during the hunt. Whenever you’re pissed, you get extremely scary yet extremely good at hunting. Tormund and Ygritte exchange looks before turning to you.

“Something troubling you, dear sister? You have the aim of a seasoned archer. Most days, you could hardly hit a target that’s within breathing space.” Tormund asks, laying a concerned hand on your shoulder as you reached for another arrow.

“Maybe I just got really good. Nearly killed a man last night, did I not?” You muttered, shooting the arrow and perfectly hitting a wild boar in it’s side. The beast falls over. You go over to it, whispering a quiet prayer before jabbing the arrow deeper ending its life. “We’re eating boar tonight.” You say turning to see the horrified looks on their faces.

You hated the act of killing an animal so much so that you could never being yourself to stand close to a dying one. Yet in this evening, you’d done it without batting an eye. This was worrisome for the leader of the wildlings.

He pulls you to the side, squinting at your face.“Why’s your lip bruised?”

“It’s nothing. I clumsily bit it this morning.” You lied.

“It has something to do with that cunt, does it?” His eyes are wild and wide. “When I get my hands on him I’ll—”

“No! It’s fine. Yes, he did put his hands on me but I defended myself. You should see the state I left him in. He hollered like a bitch.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“Because I still believe this could work. I didn’t get any information from him so technically my plan hasn’t failed just yet.”

“Are you going to allow him to continue hitting you all for a hint of his name?”

“Of course not. He won’t dare to rest hands on me again. Just give me one more chance to prove this to you.”

“You’re a foolish woman.”

“The love of our people does that to a woman. Makes your stupid with ambition.”

“I’ll let you have this one last chance but no more.”

“Wonderful, brother,” You beamed. “So, should we be on our way home? I would kill for some supper.”

“No more killings for you, little one.” He shakes a hand in your hair then walks off to pick up the boar, throwing it over his back. You followed after along with the group as you made your way back to the camp.

When you all arrived, the healer is the first to approach the group. A look of frustration on his face as he explains himself. Apparently, ‘the king’ wasn’t pleased that his garments were removed and that he was made to wear the traditional free folk clothing. He’s in the tent as of now, throwing a tantrum and literally throwing things.

It took the strength of 4 men and Ygritte to stop him from entering the tent. You went in the line of fire eyes locking with the man-child.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve been fed, given a bed to rest in, treated for, dressed--”

“These rags smell like manure! Everything does!” He says, throwing some medical supplies across the room.

“Well, now the medic wishes you not to be here. Hmm. Where will you stay? It seems you’ve nowhere to go.”

“I have somewhere. My sister’s waiting for me. Her and those Dothraki animals.”

“Dothraki? You’ve got allies?”

“Yes and if you try to attack me again. I shall have the rain fire on this very camp.”

“I don’t believe you. Besides, we aren’t scared of the Dothraki. We have mutual understandings with them. Something you wouldn’t know because you know nothing.”

“I want to leave!”

“Leave then! Feel free to do so. No one’s held you captive. But I must warn you, beggars will be on you like flies to honey when they see that you’re wounded. You’ll be in no shape to defend yourself. Not that I believed you could defend yourself even if you had your two hands.”

“Oh, fuck off!” He says, swinging his legs to the side bed.

“Gladly. Goodbye.” Just as you turned to walk out of the tent, you hear him struggling to walk forward. He’s still weak from the blood loss.

He takes a step forward and just as he’s about to fall you catch him. Your eyes locked once more. It’s the first time you’d been this close up to his face. Your both breathing heavy for a reason you dare not to explore.

“I told you you’re in no condition to leave.”

He looks at you and it’s almost as if he’s enamored by your appearance. He is, in fact, charmed by you. You were quite attractive. Nicely shaped and robust. He can feel himself melting to your embrace. He breaks your enchanting touch, shaking off any thoughts of lust.

“I’m fine.” He says, teeth clenched. He stands himself up, walking in a jerky motion before finding his footing.

“Will you quit being so stubborn? I am willing to let you stay in home to rest.”

“You’re trying to torture me.”

You pull him by the medic’s gown, forcing him close to you. “You listen and you listen well. I have been patient with you long enough. I saved your life when I’ve had numerous occasions to leave you for dead. I’ve taken up for you despite my leader’s constant objections. All because I wished to know you and have my questions answered. So quit being a whiny little fuck for once in your godforsaken life and do some good for once.”

“Alright.” He grumbles, finally dropping the attitude.

“Good. Now I’m not too excited about you staying in home. Neither will my leader but it will be what must be accepted because the healer wants nothing to do with you unless it’s to check your injury.”

“That moron couldn’t tell a baby’s breath from sage. I don’t understand why he’s your healer.”

“I won’t tolerate any insults aimed at my people. So you either keep your comments to yourself or I’ll be force to physically silence you.”

He glares at you and you retort with an expression of your own. “Fine.” He crosses his arms.

“Good boy,” You smiled. Good boy. The sound of that stirred something within Viserys that he wasn’t sure he’s ever felt before. “Now why don’t we meet the others for supper. You are to be on your best behavior and answer all of my questions and in return…I’ll teach you to be king.”

“How on earth will a wildling woman teach me, a royal, how to be king?”

“That’s a talk saved for supper. Follow me.” You take his hand in yours, leading him.

Viserys never had a woman take charge so boldly the way you did. It was culturally shocking yet so refreshing. When you’d climbed his lap in the noon to slap him around, he did all he could to suppress an erection that begged to stand tall. No! He could not be willing to fuck a wildling girl. Clearly, he’s lost all common sense being in the presence of your people for so long. Once he’s healed enough, he’ll be gone and out of this hell never daring to look back.

————-

“So your sister is married to the Great Khal and she’s the tribe’s Khaleesi.” You reiterate, then took a bite of your meal. The two of you were sitting off somewhere within the camp alone, having a meal. You learned of his name, Viserys. You’d also learned of his sister Daenerys who sounded like a sweetheart compared to the man beside you.

“Yes, but those beasts have no need for me. They simply pretend as if I’m not there. Like I’m not there king.”

“I know Dothraki people to be of their word. If they say they’ll give you an army, they will fight for you. Did you not say that your sister is pregnant?”

“Yes, so.”

You rolled your eyes. “So…the Great Khal wishes for the birth of his child before he wishes to give his life to you. I don’t see that as unreasonable. Do you not wish for your nephew or niece to lay eyes upon their father before war?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Well, I’m not a cold-hearted person.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Hey! If I can’t make any insults than neither can you towards me.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway, the child will have Dany to care for her. Now is the time to act. I want my crown and if they don’t act, I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“Is that what you wished to do when you came here drunk as a lord? Was that taking matters into your own hands?”

“I came here by mistake. I was tired from walking. Those Dothraki cunts robbed me of my steed then named me ‘Sorefoot King’.”

You chuckled and he immediately shoots daggers in his stare. You quickly stifle your laughter. “Sorry.”

“They never liked me. Neither of ‘em. If they did, they’d treat me to gifts the way they did for my sister. They’re all fools.”

“I’m sorry that you feel that way,” You put a hand on his shoulder and he looks at you in surprise. “You shouldn’t harbor these negative emotions and hatred towards your sister. This is a win for the both of you. Your issue is your approach. And that’s where I come in. As a former wife of a nobleman, I picked up a few things about playing the game of thrones.”

“What could you possibly know about ruling a kingdom?”

“I know a lot more than you do. Like for starters, calling the people who will serve under names isn’t doing well for your campaign. Neither is going on and on about being the dragon. You sound like a child. People want a man to rule. You’ve shown no indications of maturity.”

“You don’t know me. I did things to get where I am today yet my sister receives the praise. I have every right to be angry. My sister was gifted 3 dragon eggs for which I wished to sell off and find a better more capable army. If that’s not maturity I’m not sure what is.”

“You know nothing, Viserys. Even if you were to sell those eggs, whose to say whomever you’ve sold them to wouldn’t just kill you and use them to conquer lands. It’s exactly why I grew tiresome of being within the walls. I’m tired of the wars. Innocent people dying because of foolish mistakes made by those in power. You should wish to be different if you wish to rule. Stealing those eggs would be a huge mistake. Leave them be.”

“You don’t know my life. I’m the last hope of a dynasty. The greatest dynasty this world has ever seen, on my shoulders since I was five years old, and no one has ever given me what they gave to her. Never. Not a piece of it. How can I take my crown without making these moves, hmm? Who can rule without wealth or fear or love?”

You stared hard at him. You pitied the man. He’d lost his parents, siblings, cousins, and people to the Lannisters and the crown was taken from him. What exactly was a five year old to do in those times other than to take this as their reality.

After supper, the group all said their goodnights. Obviously, Tormund had not been pleased to see you and Viserys going into a tent together. Viserys goes into your home first and before you could Tormund stop you.

“You need me to keep guard?”

“Look at him and me, dear brother. I can easily overpower him.”

“I know but I just can’t imagine you dealing with the bastard.”

“I’ll be fine. I got some great information. So far, I know that he’s got an army. The Dothrakis.”

“Wow. How’d he managed to get them?”

“His sister is their Khalessi. You see, things could look up for them and possibly for us for the winter.”

“You’re optimism is your best attribute but also your biggest disadvantage. I love the hope you carry but please but cautious of this man. I still don’t fucking trust him.”

“I know and you’re right. I just want to take that leap of faith. You know what life for me was like behind those walls. I was subjected to my husband who beat me senselessly everyday and never gave me the freedom for my own choices. I get to make the choices now. I just want to find a way to repay you and my people for taking me in.”

“You don’t have to go through crazy measures for that. We already love and accept you.”

“I know but this is something that I need to do.”

“If it means to you that much, then I won’t stop you. Have a goodnight, sister. And don’t fuck that bastard.”

You scoffed, blushing profusely. “You have an active imagination. In what way have I shown any interest that I’ve wished to do that with him?”

“Oden told me about this afternoon in the medic tent.” Tormund laughs.

“I was simply fixing the arsehole’s shoulder.” You defended.

The two of you said your goodnights and he headed to his tent. When you went into the tent, you noticed that Viserys had laid in your bed instead of on the ground where you’d made a place for him to sleep,

“You wish to share the bed?” You asked.

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the floor. It’s filthy.” He says in disgust.

“Fine.”

You began to strip down from your heavy clothing and Viserys eyes widened.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m stripping down to my night gown.”

“You’re naked.”

“Like you’ve never seen tits before.”

“O-of course, I’ve seen tits but a lady shouldn’t strip in front of a man who isn’t her lover.”

You noticed he’s flustered and you can’t help but smile.

“Oh so I’m a lady now? Not a wretched swine?” You teased. “Well, luckily for you those customs matter not here. Besides… I’m no lady.” You slipped on your night gown then got into the bed beside him.

You and Viserys made an effort to stay as far away from each other as possible. In your mind, you felt like the moment your skin touched his you’d immediately jump his bones as twisted as it was. You couldn’t sleep and although his back was facing you, you knew based off his stirring that he was awake, too.

He breaks the silence. “Me and My sister had to live off as street urchins struggling for food and shelter. I’ve been called plenty names but ‘The Beggar King’ hurts the most. I use to steal food from merchant carts for us to have something to eat. Once they recognized me as a thief, I sold myself off for sex in exchange for money. All to keep us afloat. We were the only family we had. So yes, sometimes I have some hatred towards her because it feels like she had it easy. I had to grow up.”

You stayed silent, letting him vent. He may have been a terrible person but he wasn’t always so bitter.

“I overheard you speaking with your leader. You’ve also had to fight for your place in this world even as a noblewoman. It’s probably why you didn’t hesitate to hit me back. I guess I deserved that,” He clears his throat. “Anyway, that’s off my chest. I’ve told you everything.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, well, how could I not when you’ve constantly threatened,” He laughs. For the first time you heard him laughs, you assumed he was incapable of joy unless inflicting pain on others. “Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered.

Silence again. Then, he breaks it once more. “C-could you play in my hair?”

“What?”

“It’s just that I’d do it myself but my dominant arm is out of service. I usually twirl a finger in my hair to calm me as I sleep.”

“I can’t believe you’re admitting that to me.”

“Me neither. It could just be the hallucinogenic herbs that healer gave me. Makes me talk nonstop and say stupid things. Forget what I said about playing in my hair.” He says, squeezing his eyes shut hoping to sleep and forget the conversation. Then, he felt your fingers running through his hair. It’s soft and silky. You’re fascinated by it’s beautiful near florescence.

He sighs from your touch, heart beating fast when he feels your breasts pressed up into his back now. Your hands leave his hair, going under his shirt now to feel his stomach.

“Does that feel good?” You whispered his ear.

“Uh huh.” Was all he could manage to say, his focus centered around your hand exploring his abdomen.

You kissed the shell of his ear, biting the earlobe as you made your way down his pants. You played with the pubic hair sticking out just above the waistband of his underwear. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want it.” He says in breathy voice.

You bring your hand up to his mouth. “Spit.”

He obliges, spitting into your hand. You use this hand to go into his underwear, wrapping your hand around the thick base to coat in his saliva.

“Oh Gods.” He groans. He helps you lower his pants a bit, his cock fully released from its restraint. You get to look down and see the white perfectly trimmed pubic hairs frame around a beautifully thick cock. He’s uncircumcised and usually it’d turn you off but you found it to be so alluring. You jacked him slowly, feeling him writher against you.

“Your cock is so big, Viserys. I want to feel it inside deep, deep, deep inside me.”

His eyes flutter close. He wished he could talk back and say anything but he was in such bliss that his mouth couldn’t allow him to waste energy of speaking. He turns his head to the side and captured his lips in a sensual kiss. Your tongues wrangling with one another. In the meantime, your grip tightened d around him and you began to stroke harder.

He began to whimper a little too loud for your liking. If you didn’t stop him, he’d wake the whole camp by the time he climaxes. You break from your kiss and place your free hand over his mouth while you continued to stroke him. He got louder and louder with each tug. Sometimes, you’d give some attention to his balls before going back up to his stroke the base once more.

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”

He nods, frantically.

“Go on and cum for me, love. Make a mess in my hands.”

It was all the permission he needed to let go, he violently shook against you, whined and sobbed into your hand as you milked him for all he’s worth. Ropes of thick white cum shoot onto the mattress and on your hand.

You removed your hand from his mouth still stroking his sensitive cock but giving him the time to breathe the air around him. He whines with every tug until finally he couldn’t take it anymore placing his hand over yours to prevent you from continuing on.

“I’m sorry I might’ve overdone it.” You say against his neck in between kissing and sucking at the skin.

“That was possibly the hardest I’ve ever orgasmed.” He says, panting.

“It was a beautiful sight. You look so pretty under my control.”

“No woman can control me.” He refutes.

“We’ll see about that.” You smirked.

—————

You hardly had any rest last night. The night was spent with you and Viserys making out the entire night and heavy groping each other. With all the women Viserys has been with, none of then compared to you. Your touch went beyond sex. He could only imagine what it’d be like when he finally gets to have you. You being a wildling meant nothing to him. You were just two people starving for one another regardless of any titles.

When you had to get up in the morning, he couldn’t bare the thought of not having you pressed up against him. Not after knowing how incredible it felt to have your soft thick thigh wrapped around his waist or your arms that wrapped around him so tightly in a warm embrace. He’s only known you about a day and a half or 2 and he already couldn’t imagine being without you.

“I have to go.”

“5 more minutes.” Viserys says, muffled by his face buried your bosom.

“You said that 5 minutes ago,” You say, bringing his head up to look at you. “I must go. I have chores to do. Everyone contributes their part in our home.”

“Then, I’ll…join you.” He says, not sure if he meant it himself.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Aren’t you the one who said you’d help me be king? Today’s first lesson.”

“I guess you’re right. You won’t do any strenuous activities but I will want you to be kind to all that you encounter. That’s your first lesson.”

“Just to be kind,” He scoffs. “That’s easy.”

“Um, right.” You say, keeping your comments to yourself. You hop out of bed and got dressed, handing Viserys his original clothing to dress in again now that it was cleaned of the blood and patched up at the shoulder.

Going out into the camp meant that neither you nor Viserys can show any signs of affection. Tormund can sniff out the slightest indistinct movement and relate it to romantic advances like a pure bred hound.

Walking through the camp, the first task that you’ve decided would help Viserys break down his walls is going fruit picking with the children.

“Children? Ughh, I hate children.” Viserys groans.

“No, you don’t. Your just unfamiliar with them. Haven’t had to take care of another child since your sister. Now you get show of your kindness to children whom you don’t know for the simple fact that you want to be kind and nothing more in return.”

“How does this help me obtain my crown?”

“Because parents see how well you treat their children, they’ll see you as a charitable leader. People want to follow leaders that are charitable and kind. Why don’t you help those girls pick those berries from the bushes? You can talk and ask them questions. I’ll be right behind you.”

He sighs but, nonetheless, he persists. Heading over to the group of children, he picked the berries with them and instead if having to ask them questions the girls were quick to ask him questions about his hair and where he came. It was a wholesome moment that had you smiling like an idiot. The moment was only slightly ruined when he brought up being the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

You’d actually caught few smiles every now and then. He’s slowly learning the ways of kindness. It was enough…for now. But Viserys was a work in progress, he had a lot to learn about being king. Unlearning certain negative traits was only the beginning.

By the end of the day, Viserys had been eager to help nearly everyone all for the exchange of praises. If you’d known that praising him would make him this much of a pleasant surprise, you would’ve kissed his ass a day ago.

He runs up to you after building the fire for supper and he’s beaming with joy. “Did you see that? I practically taught your tribe a new way of building a fire. A sufficient way.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

“So does this mean your people will work with me?”

“Oh, sweet, Viserys. We’re not nearly enough for an army. Also, you this already…my people submit to no one. They’ll never willingly wish to be ruled. You must apply what you’ve learned when you get back to your sister. Show those Dothrakis that you’re there and you matter, too.”

He nods. “That’s sound advice.”

“Of course, it’s sound advice. I’ve not steered you wrong yet.”

You noticed Tormund, staring between you while he helped prepare the meat. That look only meant that he’d seen something between you and Viserys.

“Excuse me, Viserys. I must go speak with the leader.”

He nods and your briskly made your way to over to Tormund. The moment you got to him, you crossed your arms and pouted like a kid that didn’t have it their way.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” He asks.

“You were staring first.” You answered.

“Could I not stare?”

“Not the way you were. You looked at me as if your disappointed in me. What’d I do?”

He sighs, no long beating around the bush. “You fucked him?”

“Of course not.”

“There are love bites littered all over his neck.”

“So this deduces to the conclusion that I’ve fucked him? That’s just bruising from yesterday when I choked him, okay. Nothing more.” You lied. You hadn’t fucked him but he didn’t need to know that you’ve thought about it and that you’ve been thinking about it all day. You hated lying to a man who you cared for so dearly but you don’t wish for him to see you as a king’s whore for bedding Viserys.

“I apologize, sister. I’m just protective of you. That’s all. I don’t want your heartbroken once you see him for what he is the way I do.”

“It’s not like I’m so lovesick damsel. I just want to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

He nods. “You’re not a love sick damsel. You have the right to your decisions. I just hope one of those decisions aren’t to have him stick his cock in you.”

“Must you be so vulgar?” You groaned.

————

It was a week and a half since Viserys has arrived to your camp. He was practically a wildling by this point helping out your people even without your supervision. But he’s healed which meant that he’ll be leaving soon. You’d given him all that he needed to know about controlling his allies and gaining followers to regain his empire.

Of course, there were moments of push back by the arrogant fool, believing himself to gain power without the commands of a woman. You’d straightened him up whenever you were alone in your tent denying him from orgasm when every you stroked his cock. It was torturous for you not being able to sleep with him whenever you’d seen his large member. But you swore not to go that far unless you’d end up attached.

“Gently relax your fingers to release your bow. Trust in yourself.” You stayed behind from the hunt to help prepare for dinner with the others when you ended up giving a lesson to Viserys about shooting with a bow and arrow.

He lets go of the arrow and it flies passed the tree he’s aimed at. “What the fuck? I specifically targeted that tree.”

“It takes a time to measure whether your aimed exactly on your target or not.”

“Bows and arrows are a waste of time. Why not just use a sword like everyone else?” He pulls out his sword from the holster.

“I just choose not to. Not everyone could find sword of Valyrion steel. Also, I don’t know how to use a sword.”

“I can teach you to use mine.”

“You know how to use your sword.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing.”

He shoots you an annoyed look. “Anyway, let me teach you how to swing.”

He hands you his sword before coming up behind you. Placing his hands over yours, he helps you get comfortable swinging it around. It’s heavy and the weapon frightened you yet you felt so secure in his arms.

At one point, your ass brushed against his erection and he lets out a low groan. Closing the space between your bodies, you melt into him. Your bodies flushed against one another as he lightly grinds his hard cock into your plush bottom. You look back at him. The two of you forgetting the task at hand, the sword drops to the floor.

“We should stop. Tormund will show up any moment.”

“To hell with him. I want you to fuck you apart.”

“No, he’s my leader and I will not disrespect him in this way.”

“Because your both in love with one another?”

“What? Absolutely not. He’s like family. My brother.”

“That’s typical Targaryen custom.”

“To fuck family? You’ve done it…with your sister.”

“Of course not.”

“Do then why my brother?”

“How can you not see that he cares for you? He’s constantly staring at us. He won’t allow you and I to fuck as we please. He’s always trying to attack me on your behalf.”

“That’s just what brothers do. You should understand this from someone who’s had to fight for their survival along with their sister.”

He exhales deeply. “I think it’s different. I think he cares for you more than that and you’re to in denial to see it.”

“You’re wrong and you don’t know him or me.”

“Apparently neither do you.”

You glared at him for while when you heard the chortling and laughter of the hunting group. Pushing passed Viserys, you went to greet the group.

For the rest of the night, you avoided both Tormund and Viserys. You needed to rethink everything. No way did Tormund see you more than just family. Absolutely not! Viserys believes he has your people all figured out when in reality he was as clueless as the kneelers within the walls.

When the time for slumber fell, you decided to stay out and drink with the watchmen instead of going into your tent. You’d gotten slightly intoxicated and the men quickly cut you off and escorting you to your tent.

You stomped inside your tent annoyed that the men believed you to be a lightweight. Viserys wasn’t there. Nowhere in your tent. Had he left? His sword wasn’t put up anywhere either.

You felt yourself slowly begin to tear up at the thought of him leaving without saying goodbye. Of course he’d leave. He had no obligations to you and he’s practically. He had his people to return to, as well. Tormund said that he’s break your heart. You never thought you’d become so attached so soon but here you were sobbing in your cot for him.

The tent entrance opens up and you quickly sprung up. It’s Viserys. He hadn’t left after all.

“What’s wrong? Why do you shed tears?”

You wiped at your face. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s about what I said? About Tormund being in love with you.”

“No. I just don’t know. Okay?! I don’t understand these feelings that I have for you right now but just moments ago I thought you’d left. I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

“I was only trying to practice the bow and arrow,” He says sitting at your bedside. “I felt like a failure for not being able to shoot the darn thing. I’ve never even raised a sword in combat. Real combat. I thought if I could shoot at least one arrow at a target, I’d be worthy enough to be king. But I’d never leave you without saying goodbye. If I’m honest, I’ve healed for quite some time ago. I simply stayed because I can’t leave yet. Not without you. I only questioned your love for your leader because I knew you wouldn’t leave with me.”

“As much as I yearn for you, I can’t follow you. This is where I belong. I’ve left a life of nobility for my freedom. Going with you will only continue the pattern.”

“I won’t lay a hand on you. Not ever again. I will be better than your husband. I will treat you as a queen should.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be queen. I just want you.”

You crawled over to him on all fours and pressed a soft kiss to his lips then slowly pulled away.

“I leave tomorrow,” He whispers. “If I leave here without you. We will never meet again. But I will protect your people. I will make sure your given clothes, food, weapons—anything you need really. It will be my appreciation to you. For teaching me how to be a leader and how to let go of the anger I have inside me.”

You breathed our your relief. “Thank you.”

He nods. “I should get some rest. I have a long road ahead of me.”

He removes his shoes and most of his clothes remaining in his underwear. He crawls into laying on his side. You lay back as well, your eyes taking in each other’s faces to commit them to your memories.

“That night when you first touched me,” Viserys begins. “Why did you do it? I enjoyed it, yes, but you showed no signs that you wanted me in this way.”

“If I can be honest, I wanted you the moment I learned your name. When you told me about your life, I just wanted to protect you and show you the love you’ve never received. It turns out I needed this a lot more than you.”

“I need you more than you could ever know. Kiss me once more. I can’t imagine leaving without feeling your lips on mine.”

You soothe down his hair then cupped his face, pulling him into a sensual kiss. It’s deep and your tongues play a massive part in eliciting moans from one another. You roll your bodes so that you’d rest on top of him. Pulling off your night gown, you rock back and forth over his hard erection.

He gasps at the feeling. He swore he could feel how wet you were through the barriers of cloth.

Rising up just enough, you lowered his underwear to around his knees then pushed your panties to the side. You were aching badly enough that you could burden yourself to go into foreplay. You wanted him now.

He lines his cock with your dripping core then you sunk down, taking all 10 inches of him into your warm channel.

You both moan simultaneously. He grips you hips but you remove them, pinning them above his head.

“Don’t move them.” You bounced on his cock and already the unmistakable squelching fills the room.

He’s whimpering and will soon get louder. He knows he should be keeping quiet. Usually, he wouldn’t care to make noise regardless of your need to hide your relationship with him but he knew if he did you’d stop. If you were to stop, he’d for sure die. So, his best bet to stifle his moans were simply to bite his lip.

You were rocking and grinding against him your clit rubbing against his bony pelvis. There was something about having this man beneath you that set you in a frenzy. You could easily overpower him and toss him around like your little boy toy but you’d remained gentle enough because he needed some tenderness.

You hover your face over his taking his bottom lip into your mouth. This was a bad idea as he reverted back to loud moaning. He sounded so pathetic yet so erotic causing more of your slick to run down his length and inner thighs. Sadly, you needed to silence him or this could end shortly. You french kissed him once more a hand wrapped loosely around his throat while you did so.

You felt so good around him. Your plump ass colliding against his lap along with the pillowy sensation of your cunt and thighs made his eyes roll into the back of his skull. He wished to worship your body. To kiss every fold, every curve, every part of you. He figured he’d have the whole night to do this. Being well-rested meant nothing to him in this moment.

“Ungh, fuck mommy please.” He whispers against your lips. His eyes snapped to your looking slightly embarrassed.

“Mommy will take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good.” You assured.

“Can I touch you now, mommy?”

“Yes, you may.”

He sits up, sucking on your hardened nipple while his hands were on your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

“Spit in my mouth, Viserys. Please.”

He’s shocked to see you give this one chance of power over you. It swelled pride in his chest and for a moment he already felt like a true king.

He digs his thumb and index finger into your cheeks forcing your mouth open. You hold out your tongue and spits on it. You immediately retracted your tongue into your mouth swallowing and savoring his taste.

“So good. I’m so close.”

Viserys fucks up into you. Your hungry cunt swallowing him inside as if it didn’t want to let go. He felt you flooding him with each hit against you g-spot.

“Such a good boy. You love making mommy cream all over you.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” He chants, timing it with his thrusts. He can feel his balls drawing up. He was going to cum hard and soon. “I’m going to cum.”

“Me, too. Please cum in me. Want to have a piece of you inside me.”

“Shit! Ah, oh fuck. You’re making me cum,” He says breathless, eyes rolling into the back of his head once again. His back is against the mattress, letting you have your way with him as his warm essence coats your walls. As exhausted as he was, he managed to bring a hand up to your clitoris, rubbing profusely.

You tighten around him so hard that after spurt of cum shoot through you. You cum hard, your world shattering before you. You bite into you arm to keep from screaming. Viserys senses your clenching and unclenching pussy soaking him and he takes the added lubrication to fuck faster into you, adding heightened sense sensation to your orgasm. He’s ruthless with his movements on your clit as well and you convulse, squirting your juices all over him.

Once you’d calmed down enough, the two of you ground into each other to the point if sensitivity. The aftershocks ran through your bodies until you were both spent. You finally removed yourself on top lying beside, both panting for air in the now thick atmosphere.

“I love you.” Viserys says then kisses your forehead.

“I love you, too.” You admitted.

“If you ask me to stay here with you and your people. I’d say yes.”

“What about the crown? Your throne?”

“None of it matters if I don’t have you. I want to spend my life with you. For you to be the mother of my children.”

You cradled his face. “There’s nothing more I would love than for you to stay here with me…but you can’t. You’ve wanted the crown for so long. Fought to survive for the chance to one day rightfully gain your title. I don’t wish to take that from you. I don’t want you to regret. You belong on the throne. You’ll be the only man I’ll ever see truly as a king because you know what it is to suffer and you don’t wish this for your people. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. I’ll always love you, Viserys.”

“I’ll always love you, Y/N.” He could feel himself getting teary-eyed. He felt ashamed to be so vulnerable in front of you. But you wiped away his tears and kissed him softly. He immediately forgot his shame.

The rest of the night you held each other, your naked bodies intertwined. It was the happiest you’ve been in love in a long time. You slept soundly against warm body, hoping tomorrow will never come.

————

A few years went by and you’ve not heard a word from Viserys. At first, you were convinced he forgot about you and that you’ve failed your people. But it was much worse. You learned that he was dead and that his sister was the last of her people. The one who’d take the throne.

You felt sick. Cried many nights. Even after so many years, your love for him was never displaced. You blamed yourself for not asking him to stay. Had he stayed, he’d be alive…with you. With his son.

“Mother,” Your son, Haegarth, runs towards you straight into your arms. The silver white of his hair the striking resemblance of his father. “How was your hunt?”

“It went well.”

“I’d love to hunt someday, mother. I want to be as brave and tough as you.” He points.

You laugh. “And that you will.”

“W-was my father brave, too?” He says looking nervously at the ground then back at you.

You give him a sincere smile. “He was more than brave. He was truly like a king.”

Your boy smiles widely and you both walk hand and hand, joining the rest of the group. The future of your life was to be decided by the Gods but you hoped someday you’ll one day be reunited with your love again.

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

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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