"No, but you do ! And to have to choose now."
Jon stopped just outside of Tyrion's cell. He had had the choice. He had chosen his Queen. He had bent the knee when she committed all her forces to his cause, not asking anything in return anymore.
He had trusted her. Better yet, he had believed in her !
He had chosen her and he would be true to his word, whatever the price.
He tried all his life to live by this simple principle : do as you say. Such simple words but so hard to follow…
People have been thinking hat he knew what was justice, what was right. When in truth, he knew nothing.
Ygritte had seen it.
He never knew what was right.
The world was shades of grey. This is why he always tried to live by his word. It was his moral compass. The only way to stop doubting himself again and again after his brothers had killed him.
A noise startled him. He shouldn't stay here. It would draw unwanted attention.
But he wouldn't go back to the Northerner camp outside the city. Why would he ? To bear Arya's knowing and reproving stare ? To share awkward silences with Davos ? Or to look at the faces of his men, those same men that had just murdered and raped innocent people ?
No. He had to go forward, to speak with Dany, to understand her point of view. Surely she had something to say to explain her actions.
He started walking toward the throne room, where he knew Daenerys would be. Through the opened corridors, he could smell burnt flesh.
Usually it was a smell that meant a good meal was on is way. But right now, reality was deceptive. It wasn't roasted pork brought from the kitchen for a victory feast, it was the burnt corpses of children, women and men of King's Landing. It wasn't snow falling from the sky, it was their ashes.
Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed.
No one tried to stop him from reaching the throne room. Not even Drogon. And why would anyone ? Jon was the best ally of the dragon Queen. Together they ended the Great War. Together they ended the Last War. They saved the people of Westeros. Twice.
And they had just killed half a million people.
He stopped at the entrance of the throne room. Daenerys was there. Her back to him, her hand toying with the iron throne.
Jon had never been in King's Landing before, but he had heard of the splendors of the Red Keep. Now, the sight in front of him was chilling. Destruction. Complete destruction. Daenerys was Queen of the Ashes. Ruling over a graveyard.
She turned, saw him… and smiled !
Jon stepped forward to join her and she started talking like she had done several times before. Small talk about her thought, about her life, about her dream. This time she was telling him a childhood memory and she looked... cheerful.
There was so much distance between her feelings and his feelings that he couldn't listen to her. What was torturing him just spilled out of his mouth.
It was necessary..she answered.
Necessary, he echoed, have you been down there ? Have you seen ? Children, little children, burnt !
He had never spoke to her like that before. Even when they had just met and he was so frustrated by her. But the wounded trust, the disbelief, the denial, everything he felt in King's Landing streets had to get out. He wanted to shake her. To make her see.
Daenerys answered with icy self-confidence. against me… crippled me. She was only thinking about herself. Half a million people used as a mean to drive a point home. To show Westeros that she wasn't weak.
He started to beg her. He heard the tears in his own voice.
You can forgive all of them. Make them see they made a mistake. Make them understand.
How clumsy he was. Had he ever managed to convince someone, anyone, before ? Not his brothers of the Night Watch. Not the Northerned Lords. Not even Sansa. But he had to try anyway.
And she seemed to doubt for a second. He pressed her. Using her nickname because he could. Because they had been lovers. The had whispered loving words to each other.
We can't hide behind small mercies. She told him.
The world we need is a world of mercy, it has to be. He insisted.
He had trusted her because she had spoke of a better world. Not a world of war, conquest and death.
And it will be !
Daenerys came closer. So close.
A good world she said. And how much he wanted to trust her ! But how did she know? Nothing was completely good or bad. Nothing was wholly true or wrong. He had thought he knew what was right and what was wrong. But he had learned that Wildlings were people and not monsters, that you can be a Crow and fall in love. You can love someone and betray her for your duty. You can make vows, break them, and not be punished for it. You can die and be reborn. You can burned a young girl alive and save hundred of grown men. You can think that the world is ending when it is saved by your little sister.
How do you know ? Jon asked. Because right now he didn't know. Was it good ? Was it right ? Should he love her, commit himself to her, even if it brought him and all the people of Westeros in a burning inferno ? Should he stop her, should he kill her, even if it brought him and all the people of Westeros into chaos ?
Because I know what is good… and so do you.
No he didn't. He had the marks to speak for it on his body.
What about everyone else ? He asked.
What about Tyrion, what about Arya, Sansa, Davos ? What about Cersei and the Lannister's soldiers ? What about this kid burnt in the street and still clutching his toy into death ? What about Varys? What about the Tarly ?
What about all of them that fought and died during the battle of Winterfell ? What about the half million voices calling for revenge ? Didn't they have something to say ? Didn't they earn the right to be listened to ?
They don't get to choose.
Daenerys was smiling. And Jon heart stopped. For the second time in his life.
He had been wrong. She didn't deserve that he trusted her with the lives of his people. She had been trying to deserve it, trying hard. But something dark in her was winning her inner war. Was it madness ?
He wouldn't be able to help her, he wasn't strong enough. Tyrion thought he could but he couldn't.. She would wreak havoc in all Westeros to establish her reign and be sure that her, and only her, would decide what was right.
He clung to her. Because he loved her and she loved him. Because he didn't want to do it. Because he knew, from inside, what it felt to be betrayed by those you trust.
She was still talking but he couldn't listen to her. His ears were buzzing. He was drowning himself in her violet eyes, in her beautiful features, in the melodious tone of her voice.
Together.
An invisible and cold, very cold, hand had seized his heart and was gripping it so tight it wasn't beating anymore.
You are my queen, now, and always. He said. Because she had to know that he never met a queen like her and never will. Someone that made possible the impossible. Someone that thousand of grown men and women where following blindly.
But war was terrible and half a million people death were enough for a lifetime. He wouldn't be responsible for the destruction of another city.
She kissed him. Sweet, sweet hell.
He kissed back, drawing his dagger at the same time.
And in one expert move, he thrusted his weapon in her heart.