Act One: Playing Dragons

Jon I (Aged 6)

Sword fighting was nowhere near as enjoyable as Jon had expected. Watching the soldiers train in the main courtyard had always been thrilling and so he had assumed it would be the same once he learnt. Perhaps it would be better when he got a proper sword? This small, wooden one had felt light when Ser Rodrik first placed it in his hand and showed him the proper way to grasp it but, as Robb's sword hit his repeatedly, sending vibrations up his arm, Jon's shoulders had begun to ache and he found himself wishing he was five again and could return to the nursery to play with his toy soldiers instead.

However, with Robb turning six, and Lady Catelyn expecting another child, Lord Eddard had decided that this was a good time for the future Lord of Winterfell to move into his own chambers and begin his training at the same time. Where Robb went, Jon had always followed and so he too was to have his own room and learn how to fight, even though Lady Catelyn fought bitterly with her husband about his bastard being so honoured.

"He is no lord," Jon had overheard her saying to his father last week. "He is no true Stark. Why should he be housed in the Great Keep and trained alongside your heir?"

"Because he has my blood," Ned had replied, "and because he will grow into a young man who will one day act as Robb's sworn sword."

"Or he could go to the Wall," she had suggested.

"Aye, that is an option for him too," he replied, "but is also why he should be well trained. After all, the Night's Watch needs all the skilled swords it can get nowadays."

"And his chambers?" she pushed.

He gave her a long, hard look. "You would have him housed with the dogs?"

Even Catelyn knew that that would be one step too far. "Of course not but ... not close to our chambers, I beg you. I cannot bear it."

"The First Keep then," Ned replied. "There are quality chambers on the ground floor that housed elder lords in the past when they were less able to climb the stairs and Old Nan will be close by if the boy needs her."

Catelyn nodded, her mouth a tight line. "That seems like a good compromise."

'I am a bastard,' Jon reminded himself, tears stinging his eyes. 'I have no mother and Lady Catelyn hates me.'

He wanted to hate her in return but found it difficult when he saw how kind she was to Robb, how gentle she was with little Sansa and how well she treated all the small folk within the castle. Jon would watch her soft smile as she talked to some young child and wonder what it would feel like to have her look at him that way.

"Ow!"

"Beat you!" Robb crowed, placing the tip of his wooden sword against Jon's chest. "And now you're dead."

"Not fair," Jon complained. "You're bigger than me."

"He is," Rodrik, said, bending down to put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "And you will spend much of your youth fighting those taller and broader than you, I'm sure." His gaze moved from Robb to Jon and then back again. "I do not believe that either of you will rival Ser Duncan the Tall when you are men grown, but height and force are not a requirement for great warriors and I will teach you how to use your other strengths."

"What other strengths?" Jon asked, sulkily.

"You are both bright boys," he replied, "and your wit will be worth a foot of height if used correctly." He grinned at the darker boy's expression. "Your petulance might help too, Jon, if only you could learn to use it wisely."

"Petulance?"

"That," Rodrik said with a smile. "That look on your face right now."

"How will Jon's sulking help him to win?" Robb said, laughing.

"Well, yes, when you put it like that ..." Rodrik grinned broadly whilst Jon just folded his arms, not appreciating the teasing. "Come now, you did very well for your first session. I believe you are both naturals and will be great fighters if you train hard and listen to my advice. And I shall tell your father as such – although I doubt he would expect to hear differently. Get along with you now. Go eat and rest, and be ready to train hard again tomorrow."

"You hear that, Jon?" Robb said, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. "We will be great warriors you and I. Just like Ser Duncan."

"Only shorter," Jon grumbled.

Robb laughed. "You're funny."

They headed back into the armoury to return their practice swords before walking north-east towards their living quarters, both pausing by the well in the smaller courtyard as they made ready to go their separate ways - Robb to the keep on the right and Jon to the one on the left.

"You want to play, Jon?" The two boys both turned at the sound of the voice and Jon smiled as he saw his new friend standing at the entranceway to the First Keep.

"Of course," he called out, "wait there."

Robb squinted over Jon's shoulder. "Making friends with the small folk?"

"I have plenty of those sort of friends," he replied with a shrug, "but Dany's high born."

"Well, I'd better get back to Mother," Robb said, already turning towards the Great Keep. "See you later at the feast?"

Jon shrugged. "Maybe." He'd be seated at the other end of the Hall in all likelihood but it wasn't really worth complaining about.

As his brother walked away, Jon turned towards the First Keep instead, his aches and frustrations quickly disappearing as he anticipated spending time with his friend.

"What have you been doing, Jon?" she asked, looking him up and down as they headed inside the tower. "You look a mess."

He grinned. "I'm always a mess, remember?" Dany never was. She was always beautifully dressed, her silver-blonde hair neatly braided and with never a smudge of dirt on her, no matter how bad the weather was outside.

"Even more of a mess," she retorted.

"I was learning to fight with Robb," he told her, proudly. "It was our first session with Ser Rodrik and he said we both did very well."

She nodded, a small frown on her face. "Boys need to learn to fight, I suppose."

"I think girls should too," Jon replied. "Old Nan tells stories of warrior princesses as well as the princes."

She smiled then. "Yes, my family is full of female heroes riding dragons."

"I love those stories," Jon replied. "You should join us for training tomorrow."

She shook her head. "My brother would never let me do that."

"Oh ..." He frowned. "That's a shame." They had reached the end of the corridor which lead to their chambers and he paused at the base of the stairwell, turning towards her. "What shall we play today?"

"We can be dragon riders," Dany declared holding out her arms and lifting them up like wings. "Then we can fly into the sky and breathe fire on all our enemies."

"Yes," Jon grinned, copying her and no longer even noticing the ache in his right arm. "I shall be Daeron the Young Dragon."

"And I shall be Rhaenyra." And the two small children ran up and down the dark stone corridor outside Jon's chambers, flapping their arms and roaring loudly.

"What is all this noise?"

Jon careered to a halt, boots sliding on the flagstones in an attempt not to bump into Old Nan. He looked up, nervously to find the lady looking down at him with a stern expression on her face, although he thought perhaps he could detect a light sparkle in her eyes, all the same.

"We were just playing," he replied, defensively.

The old lady looked up then, squinting as she took note of his companion standing nervously behind him. "Pretty little thing," she decided before turning back to him. "I always thought you'd be a heart-breaker, Jon Snow but aren't you starting a bit early?"

He frowned, not quite understanding. "We were just playing Dragons."

"Ah, of course." She smiled as his friend approached. "What's your name, child?"

"D-dany," she replied nervously.

"Well now, Dany, perhaps you and Jon should play something a little quieter? Young voices carry easily in these old corridors, you know."

"All right," Jon agreed, scuffing his toe along the floor. "Sorry."

"Come on," the little girl said, leaning forward to grab at his hand. "Let's go to my chambers for a while."

Old Nan smiled fondly at the sight before shuffling back into her own room and Jon allowed his friend to lead him, hesitating at the sight of the dark, wooden door at the end of the corridor, a strange uncertainty overtaking him as they approached it.

"I just think … I'm a bit tired after training and perhaps I should rest before supper and ..."

"Just for a little while," Dany urged, reaching up to grab the metal ring with both hands and twisting until the latch lifted with an echoing clang. "Come on."

Jon sighed, helping to push open the heavy door before following her through, shaking his head in an attempt to banish his fatigue. On the other side the long corridor continued, the extra light here making the stone appear paler, and Dany tugged Jon through the closest door on the left and into a large, communal room which had him gaping in awe. He had been here before, of course, but never ceased to be surprised and impressed at how lavishly decorated these chambers were - perhaps even more so than his Lord father's - and how very unusual they appeared in both style and shape, with numerous differently styled doors placed around its oddly angled walls.

"My bedroom is through there," Dany told him, pointing to the first, pale door on the left. "My brother's is over there and my niece and nephew live in chambers further along the corridor."

"You have a niece and nephew?" he asked, confused.

"Yes and they're older than me," she replied, giggling. "Isn't that odd?"

"Very," he agreed.

Dany beamed at him. "But I'm glad we're such close neighbours, Jon. Everyone else I know is either scared or scary but you're not. You're nice."

"Thank you," he said, frowning. "But there are plenty of other nice people living here."

Dany just shrugged, heading over to a jug and grabbing it with both hands as she attempted to pour a drink into two goblets. Seeing her struggle, Jon moved closer, standing on tip toes to hold the cups steady for her.

"I'm thirsty after all that running," she declared.

"Me too," Jon agreed as he took a sip of the cool liquid, licking his lips and savouring the strange, sharp taste. "Hmm, it's nice. I've not had this before."

"It's my favourite," she replied.

A loud voice interrupted their quiet drink. "Daenerys, where are you? Dany?"

She winced. "I'm here."

"Where have you been, child? I've been calling for you for ages."

A young man strode in through the main door and Jon took an instinctive step backwards on seeing the look on his face. He was slim with hair the same unusual colour as his friend's and would probably be considered handsome if he wasn't looking quite so angry.

"I was just playing in the corridor," Dany replied nervously.

"You little liar," he snarled. "I know you weren't." Then the man realised she wasn't alone and spun around sharply. "And who are you?"

"J-Jon." He took another nervous step back. "I'm Dany's friend."

"You shouldn't be here." He turned back to Dany. "And you shouldn't be playing with the servants, especially scruffy, flea-bitten ones like him."

Jon suddenly forgot his fear, stepping forwards, his hands fisted by his side. "I am not a servant," he said, lifting his chin. "And my father would send you packing if he heard you talking to me like that."

"He's my friend, Viserys, please don't be mean."

The man gave a cruel laugh, smiling lopsidedly at Jon who was now glaring. "You have spirit, I'll give you that, boy, but you need learn your place in this castle. Don't think I don't know what you are."

He frowned, taking a small step back, tears stinging his eyes at the reminder.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow, Jon," Dany said quietly and he nodded, reluctant to leave her with this horrible man but knowing he could do nothing about it. He wondered if he should perhaps say something to his father.

With a deep sigh Jon turned and walked out of the elegant living room and back into the corridor, pausing to look to his left and seriously debating exploring down there. He then realised he was being watched and turned to see an old man with white hair leaning against the wall and looking at him suspiciously. Feeling strangely guilty about his curiosity, Jon ducked his head back down and headed towards his own chambers with a mumbled, "Good day," before pushing open the dark door and returning to his side of the corridor.

~o~0~o~

Dany I (Aged 5)

"Ow!" Viserys had grabbed her arm and was pinching far too tightly. "Please don't, you're hurting me."

"Playing with the barrack brats now, are you? Sneaking off down there and getting under the feet of the soldiers who are protecting us? Ungrateful little wretch."

"I was not. We were in the corridor, I told you."

"Stick to your own kind, Dany. We are Targaryens and don't mix with the rabble. Why not play with Rhaenys? I know she's not a true Dragon with that hair colour, but at least she has some Targaryen blood in her."

"She just reads and does needlework and thinks I'm a baby," Dany complained. "And Aegon's no better, he just sulks all the time since his mother died. I like Jon better." He grabbed her arm again. "Ow!"

"You keep away from him and from all the other boys," he snarled. "We are so few now and have to keep our bloodlines pure. As much as I hate the idea of diluting our blood at all, I suppose my marrying Rhaenys and you Aegon will be better than nothing. We can wash out the Dornish blood in a generation or two."

She frowned. "I don't understand."

"At least Aegon looks Targaryen and perhaps he'll inherit the gift once the old man dies, even though he is only a half blood."

Dany frowned. "Gift? Old man?"

Viserys nodded. "The Dragon must have three heads as Rheagar is always reminding me when he visits. Three who have the ancient, Targaryen magic. Him and me and … there will be one other. 'Look out for my third,' he said."

"I miss Rhaegar," Dany said then. "When will he next come to visit?"

Her brother shrugged. "He'll come when he comes but he visits me, not you. He's only interested in princes."

"That's not true. He calls me his special little sister."

"You're his only sister," her brother said scornfully, "so that hardly means much. You don't have the Dragon magic. How could you? It's not for girls."

"What is this magic? What can you do with it?"

"As if you'd understand such a thing. Rhaegar is teaching me though. He's showing me how and I'll teach the third prince. Perhaps it's Aegon or perhaps there's another out there."

Dany often got lost when adults spoke. Most of them would use far too many words, speak far too quickly and not seem to realise that she didn't understand, but Viserys' conversations were always especially confusing to her. In this case she had understood almost all the words he used, but practically none of it had made sense to her.

"Go and play with Rhaenys," he repeated. "I need to practice."

Dany nodded and started to head out, seriously debating turning right instead of left and going back to see Jon. She looked back over her shoulder then to see Viserys standing in front of the door next to her bedroom, one palm flat against the dark wood whilst he glared at it, and she felt an odd trickle of fear at the sight, confused at what her brother was doing.

It was getting late now, she realised as she walked into the darkening corridor, probably too late to visit Jon again, and so, with a quiet sigh, Dany turned left into the corridor and headed to Rhaenys' room, hoping to take some supper with her niece. At least the girl was quiet and gentle and, despite her earlier complaint, Dany felt that that was exactly what she needed right now.

~o~0~o~

She and Viserys were breaking their fast in the communal living room a few days later when the front door opened unexpectedly.

"Rhaegar!" Dany shouted, jumping off her seat and running over to hug her older brother. "You've been gone for such a long time."

He lifted her up and swung her around. "I know and I'm sorry but look at how much you've grown." He put her down gently and looked up, his expression now more serious. "How are you, Viserys?"

"Frustrated," the young man replied. "I still can't do it."

Rhaegar sighed. "Well, that's why I'm here, of course. I'll try and give you some more suggestions but …" He glanced briefly at Dany. "We should talk about other matters first. What's your situation here?"

"Unchanged. We're stuck here until the Usurper calls off his dogs."

"That's a shame. I was hoping you could leave and search for somewhere better but, do you think you're safe for the time being?"

Viserys shrugged. "If we've survived this long then I'm sure we're fine. We have our contacts, a few people here in Westeros and some in Essos who've been helping us and getting the odd message through."

"Well, that's something."

"I suppose." Viserys looked over at Dany and glared. "Go play with Rhaenys, sister."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, and no sneaking off to see that dark-haired urchin you've befriended."

"He is not an urchin!"

"No mixing with the rabble, child. Off with you."

"Please can I stay here with Rhaegar for a bit longer? I promise I won't get in the way."

"Best you leave now, little one," her eldest brother said, crouching down so he could look her in the eye. "Viserys and I have a lot to discuss."

"Please say you'll come back soon."

"I'll try, dearest, although it's really not that easy."

She sighed. "Yes, I know. The Usurper wants us dead."

He frowned and lowered his voice further. "I'm sorry you have to be stuck here, Daenerys. I'm sorry you couldn't grow up in King's Landing as the royal princess you are, but I promise that you're safe here for now and that, one day, you'll have the crown and the love you truly deserve.

~o~0~o~

A/N: So, I imagine you have questions? :P You can ask and I will respond ... if not necessarily reply. There are a lot of 'interesting' things floating around in this chapter if you look closely.

For once, I am unable to guarantee weekly updates until the very end of this fic, but I can promise them throughout Act One and, if the worst comes to the worst, I will pause there for a bit as it has a neat, albeit slightly bittersweet 'conclusion'. I think though it's likely I can continue with regular updates throughout Act Two as well, but I'll have a better idea about that after this next week off when I intend to do plenty of writing. Keep an eye on my PP for information.