Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age
The child is grown, and puts away childish things.
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies [1]
Edna Vincent Millay
not
There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just means you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.
Laurell K. Hamilton, Incubus Dreams
"I admit that even after we stood together at the brick of the world's end, I still don't understand you Starks."
Jon turned to Tyrion, and when he could tell nothing from his friend's face, he looked to Danny for help, who was usually more straightforward and who had more of a taste for Tyrion's riddles than Jon did. This time however, she just shrugged and took a sip of her wine.
"I'm sure I wouldn't mind clearing it up for you, if I knew what the bloody hell you're talking about."
Tyrion just looked at him for a long moment and Jon looked back, calm and waiting, almost amused really. The firelight washed the planes and grooves of his friend's face in light and shadow by turns, and made his expressions even more unreadable.
There might have been teasing in his voice, but there was none in his eyes. "Why don't you tell her?"
"Tell what to whom?" Jon ran a hand down his face. He'd had too much wine; his limbs feel heavy, his words slow. "It's too late in the night for me to guess your riddles, Lannister, speak plainly."
"You always call me Lannister when I'm annoying you." Tyrion pointed out with a lopsided smile.
Jon rolled his eyes. "Aye, is that what we're calling it?"
Danny chuckled and slouched a little more on her seat, tilting her head and looking at them under eyelids that were getting heavier by the moment. She was tired, Jon knew. The Dragon Queen's days were long and they had also had a feast tonight, which had been full of people who had wanted to be seen and heard. Twice as many as usual, because Sansa had been there as well and wherever she went, half the realm's lords and petitioners seemed to follow, these days. All three of them should have retired when Sansa wisely had, but whenever Jon came to the capital, they always spent a few hours every evening together.
They had never decided it out loud, Jon realized then. It just happened, as things sometimes happen after you have grown closer to some than you ever imagined you would be to another human being. After not seeing either of them for almost a year, Jon knew he'd missed them. Sometimes when they sat through the night like this and spoke to each other about their lives since they had last seen each other, Jon remembered that they had once been enemies and strangers. It all seemed like it belonged to another life, now.
"I was simply making an observation that nobody else dares make to you."
"As is his way." Danny added, and now Jon was convinced that they were both teasing him.
"You asked a question." Jon pointed out.
"It was rhetorical. I'm sure I won't understand even if you answer it. Which I'm also sure you won't do."
Jon huffed a laugh and leaned back against his chair. "You seem intent on breaking my balls tonight."
Tyrion shrugged but his eyes were shining with silent amusement. "Passes the time. I meant tell Sansa Stark that you love her."
Jon's smile was replaced with confusion. "She already knows."
Tyrion's slow smile was too self satisfied for Jon's liking. "Does she?"
Danny set her glass on the table, eyes suddenly serious as she made a careful appraisal of his face. "Jon?"
He looked between them then, and knew there would be no point in denying it. They knew each other too well lies to stand a living chance in their midst. So Jon looked at the chipped edge of the table instead. He didn't want to look up, convinced that once they saw his eyes, he would be more exposed than if he'd been sitting there bare as his nameday.
Danny reached out and wrapped her hand around his, the skin of her palm coarse in places he was familiar with. He had some of those same calluses from holding on to reigns and to Rheagal's spiky bones.
"You never told me that." Danny said softly, with gentleness she always saved for when she felt safest.
"There's nothing to tell."
"Don't lie, Jon."
He looked at her in the eye then. "I'm not lying."
"Are you worried what the Starks would say?" Tyrion asked. Jon's thoughts must have shown on his face too clearly because Danny immediately reminded him that, for all that Robb still called him brother and so did his other cousins, that was a choice they had made out of affection.
"They love you, but you're no more their brother than you're mine. It's been almost five years since anyone has known you as Ned Stark's bastard." Tyrion added.
Jon glared up at him. "That's not the comfort you mean it to be."
Tyrion waved his hand as if to swat a fly. "It's the truth; it's not meant to be comforting."
Jon set his glass on the table and stood. "It's more complicated than that."
He meant it to sound final. Close the discussion that was making him so uncomfortable he could not sit still, not even here.
He should have known better. It wasn't in Tyrion's nature to accept things as they were, anymore than it was in his. Jon tended to like that quality in his friend much better however, when it wasn't turned towards grilling him.
"And have you asked Lady Stark for her opinion on the matter?"
Jon couldn't help himself. He scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Oh, I couldn't. You've left no room." Tyrion said with a laugh.
"I think you should Jon. Speak to her, i mean." Danny added. "She needs to know."
Jon could not imagine why. "For what purpose?"
"Because Sansa Stark likes knowing things. Informed decisions, she calls them." Tyrion's voice got deeper, more serious. "And because she is sister to a King, a favorite of the Queen and her Hand, if I may say so myself, one of the most beautiful and well respected women in the seven kingdoms and acting Lady of the Eyrie. Don't you think it's strange that she never married again? Or that it is easy for her to remain so?" Tyrion asked.
"I do not." He knew very well how often she had to deal with marriage proposals. Unbidden, a memory of Harry the Arse came to him. "Her last marriage probably made her disavow the whole institution."
Tyrion snorted.
Danny raised an eyebrow at him, the way she did when he sassed her and she did not appreciate it. "Sansa Stark is not the kind of woman that would appreciate you taking choice away from her, Jon. I certainly wouldn't."
Jon flinched. "That is not what I am doing!"
He tried to hold down his anger at the mere suggestion he was no different from all the others who had tried to control her made his skin crawl.
"Indeed. Perhaps it just looks like it." Tyrion said with a shrug.
Jon stood. "I'm retiring. Goodnight."
"Oh come, don't be offended."
"I'm not." Jon said, and he meant it. But he could not speak of this to Tyrion or Danny. "I'm tired half drunk. It's not a good mood to talk about this." He leaned down and kissed Danny's cheek. "Goodnight. And you as well, Lannister."
"What, no kiss for me? I'm hurt."
Jon took a step towards him, unperturbed. "I'll kiss, you if you like."
Tyrion's laughter was loud and he tried to punch Jon in the balls once he came close. Would have hit him too, if Jon hadn't moved away fast enough.
"Fuck off, Snow."
"Sleep well, Tyrion."
Jon heard them speaking as he left, but couldn't make out the words. He could guess though which was why he was not surprised when a moment later, he heard her familiar steps coming after him. Jon shortened his stride so that Danny might reach him faster.
"Walking me to my rooms, your Grace?"
She took his arm with a sigh. "Well, you are my guest, after all. And you come here so rarely, I wouldn't be surprised if you got lost."
"Ghost would find me."
"Ghost is hunting. And I'm a better conversationalist, however."
"Oh, i don't know."
Danny pinched his arm, making him laugh.
They walked in silence for a long stretch, the summer breeze coming through the high windows along with the moonlight, bringing in all the scents of the gardens below. Sansa had told him that the city used to stink so badly, you could smell it five miles away, but Jon couldn't detect any of that now. Nobody dared jape about it, but she had. With a sweet smile and right to Tyrion's face, she had asked him which had been harder to do - flying beyond the Curtain of Light and having to find his way south again from further north than anyone living had ever been, or getting rid of all the shit in King's Landing. Tyrion had laughed so long and so loud that Danny had come from the other room asking if anyone had injured a bear.
"Don't you think that after all we have all been through, we should try to take whatever happiness comes our way?" Danny asked without preamble, as if she was just continuing a conversation that had been having a moment ago. She did that quite a lot and Jon had no trouble following her thoughts. Most of the time her mind was so clear to him, that he never understood those for whom the Queen was a mystery. But Sansa told him all three of them did this: speak to each other as if they lived in each others heads. Jon did not notice it, but he supposed it might seem queer to those who stood outside their strange little triangle.
Jon stopped and turned to face his aunt, his friend. The look on her face was patient and affectionate. She had taught herself patience carefully, like it was a trade to hone, ever since they had first met. He was surprised to see her looking at him that way now, as if he was being difficult.
"I am happy."
"You're content. That's not being happy. Though I am a bit miffed I couldn't tell the difference half as well as I thought I could."
Jon started walking again. "At least I'm not as transparent as Tyrion would make me."
"My lord Hand makes most people feel transparent, you should not take it personally. And I'm sure you could be happy, if you tried."
Jon sighed. "Danny…"
They stopped in front of the doors of his rooms, and Danny didn't even wait for him to open them. She just let herself in and closed the door behind him, pinning him with a stubborn stare when she turned.
"Tyrion is right."
"Not about everything." Jon removed his jerkin and threw it over the back of the chair set by the empty heath, before sitting down.
"Certainly not, but he is right about this , Jon." She sat herself down next to him. She brought her legs up on the chair and curled on the one side of it, like Jon had seen cats do. Her eyes shone in the dark. "You remember how it was when I first came to Winterfell?"
"I remember." Vaguely. There had been so much to do, so little time for anything but thinking of the next moment and surviving.
"I remember it clearly, even now. Parts of it, anyway. Like that night before we set off."
Jon frowned. "What about it?"
"After dinner, we were in a solar of some kind. Your sisters were there, each at one side of you, and your brother sitting at Sansa's right. Do you remember?"
"I remember."
Tyrion had been there for a time Missandei and Grey Worm as well, who had lingered longer. He remembered that because Arya had spent some time speaking to both. At the beginning of the night, Danny had been seated at the other end of the table, in front of Robb. Equals, Sansa had said. Both at the head of the table, in front of each other. Things like this matter, she had said, as she arranged the seating. Robb had not even questioned it. Then, same as now, he had trusted her to know. During the night however, Danny and Robb had moved, finding new seats closer to each other. Jon remembered looking at them speaking, both leaning towards the other.
Had it happened then, for them? Sooner?
"At some point, I think Arya fell asleep." Danny continued. "Or maybe she was leaning to your side just because she wanted to; I don't know. You had your arm around her shoulders, as you spoke to Sansa and Bran. He must have said something funny, because the two of you laughed. I remember because up until that point I had not seen Sansa laugh, not even once."
They both smiled at that. It had been a hard time. Jon was sure Danny herself hadn't smiled that much when she was in Winterfell, preparing to face what they all thought was their last fight.
"But she did and then she hugged Bran with both arms, kissed him on the cheek. I think he might have smiled, but I'm not sure."
He had. It had been wondrous to watch, at a time when Jon had been so afraid that his sweetest brother had been lost to something bigger than any of them could understand.
Danny bit her lip. "You all seemed to love each other very much."
She whispered this the same way she had whispered her other secrets to him, sometimes. Jon reached for her hand.
"We did. We do." He amended quickly, it made Danny grin.
"I remember I was jealous. Jealous and sad. It made me so sad, I wanted to cry."
Jon stood then, and pulled on her hand until she was on her feel as well, and into his arms. He held her for long moments, one hand against her head, which was pressed to his chest.
"I'm as much your family as I am theirs."
Danny laughed. "I know. And I'm not said anymore; I was a lot lonelier then." She sniffed a bit, but then pulled away and poked him in the chest playfully. "I have to say though Jon, I can't decide if I'm hurt or annoyed that you never trusted me with these feelings. I could have helped you."
Jon groaned, and when he stepped away, Danny let him. But he knew he would not escape this argument so easily.
"Don't mope. I have been feeling guilty for years, thinking I broke your heart or some such nonsense when I refused to marry you, only to learn now that you're in love with someone else."
She snickered at his shock. "Don't be cross, I'm teasing. You're fun to tease."
"According to Tyrion, I'm too easy."
"True, but a queen has to find her amusements wherever she can."
Jon sighed. "I live to serve." He deadpanned, and she laughed harder. He looked at her with doubt, though he could not help a smile - her joy had always been contagious.
"I think you've had too much wine as well." He concluded. He was not particularly funny.
"Maybe so." But she didn't seem to care. "I have decided I will be cross with you for not telling me after all, but I am so happy to see you, i don't think i can manage it tonight."
"I will be here for some weeks, give it time."
She pushed him. "Shut up."
Jon sighed. "Can I trust you not to speak of this to Sansa?"
Danny's smile was gentle. "It's not my secret to tell - for now. I urge you to resolve it however, because if you do not, i will."
"Daenerys." he said, but the warning slid off her back like water off the feathers of a bird.
"I am determined to see you both happy. If you're too stubborn to see to it yourself-" Her smile grew toothy and he was reminded of Drogon. "-well, isn't that what family is for?"
"Medling?"
"Among other things, yes. So I am told."
Jon sighed, but said nothing.
Danny had been there, years ago, when around a table, he, Sansa Robb had told her of his heritage and they had discussed the threat it might pose: to her rule, to her life. They would call him Blackfyre, everyone seemed to think, and try to oppose her rule by using him. Jon had never called himself anything but Jon Snow, but that didn't seem to matter to anyone else. Still, they had chosen to trust the Dragon Queen, and Jon knew Danny had seen it for the show of faith that it had been. A show of loyalty.
Varys and Tyrion had been there with them. Davos too, and Maege Mormont. Some of the bravest people Jon knew - and despite all their deeds and courage, Sansa had been the one to suggest what they had all been thinking and none had dared say.
'You could marry.' she had said. Simply, calmly. Jon had felt his heart drop to the floor, but nobody had noticed. It had been one of the rare times he had lost his temper in front of Sansa. He still remembered how her spine had gone rigid with fear when he'd shouted.
He had been ashamed after. So ashamed that he had gone to Danny and told her that he would accept whatever solution she thought worked best toward peace. Whatever would keep her safe. She had refused him, of course. He hadn't known at the time that she was in love with his brother. In truth, Jon thought she hadn't know either.
Making peace with Sansa had been harder.
"When we took Winterfell- it was difficult at first." Jon ran a hand down his face with a deep sigh. "We had both thought we were alone in the world for so long, being together was… I don't know how it was for her, but it was the only thing i cared about. Not the Others or the end of life as we knew it, none of that really mattered to me. After i learned about my mother, i was so angry, I-"
Jon sighed and smiled before he looked at Danny. "If Rheagar Targaryen had been alive and standing there when uncle Benjen told me, I would have killed him with my bare hands. Then waited till he rose so that I could kill him again." Jon breathed deep through his nose. "I don't think I've ever been so angry my entire life."
Danny may have already suspected this - she knew of his complicated feelings about his father, and had stopped trying to redeem Rheagar in his eyes a long time ago. And yet -
"Strange thing to say, for a man that died once. Weren't you angry at the men who killed you?"
"No, I felt nothing." It had been worse, that nothingness. The emptiness of death had followed him in his second life for quite some time.
He remembered being that angry only one other time. He'd been scared in truth, but anger made him feel less like he could be undone by the touch of a feather. So he'd chosen anger.
"By the time i came back from to Castle Black from Hardhome, all i wanted was to leave everything behind. So i did."
Danny looked surprised. "Really?"
She looked at him like she did not believe he would have abandoned the world to its own self, but it was the truth. It was an ugly truth, but that did not change its nature.
"Yes. Theon and Jayne had made it to the wall by then - I knew she was no Arya. I thought she was dead." He hadn't cared enough to even kill Theon for what he had done. "I was on my way to White Harbour when I heard Sansa was coming north with the Vale."
He chuckled at the memory. His only family in the world, and she had been running straight into death's arms.
He had turned around then and accepted Manderly's offer to join the northern forces. But it had not been for Winterfell, or the world, or anyone else. He'd wanted to see a familiar face again. Nothing more.
Jon leaned his head against the back of the chair and blinked at the ceiling. "I was so sure she wouldn't want to see me."
"Perhaps I have been wrong all this time. You don't sound half as clever as i believe you to be." Danny said softly.
Jon snorted. "She always called me half-brother growing up. I think I wanted her to send me away." He'd wanted her to prove to him that nothing was worth anything. He'd been sure she would.
"But she didn't." Danny said. It wasn't a question.
She most certainly had not. If there had been a warmer welcome by someone who was more glad to see him, Jon would not have been able to imagine it at the time. He could still remember the look on her face when she'd seen him. There had been so much sadness and longing in her, it was as if she'd screamed her feelings at him. He'd felt like he'd been living underwater all that time, and even so, she had reached him. She'd jumped into his arms expecting him to catch her, and to his own surprise, he had. She had not send him away, of course not. If anything, she had held on to him so tight and kept him so close that form then onwards, not being near her had started to feel like going against nature.
"So I stayed. Because she was alive and we were together." Because she had wanted him there, and he couldn't think of a better way to die. He had been so sure he would.
"And you never…" Danny let the sentence end, maybe to allow him to finish it.
Jon turned his head to looked at her.
"I don't know how to explain how it was between us during the war." How could he explain the closeness, the dependance. The greed he used to feel and the fear that always walked hand in hand with it. "I think I needed her to much to love her, in the beginning. I didn't understand it. I think I still don't."
The day he told her he didn't think he didn't think he was the same man he'd been in his first life, was the most afraid he'd been since he woke up naked and cold on the hard table at Castle Black - alive when he knew he shouldn't be. He told her that sometimes at night when it was quiet and he could hear himself, he was convinced not all of him had come back. Or maybe something else had come back with him.
She'd taken his hand between both of hers and held it so tight he'd thought his bones might bend. Jon flexed his fingers where they were resting on the arms of the chair. He could feel her hold even now.
'But you came back, Jon. '
She'd trusted him. She hadn't trusted anyone back then, but she had trusted him. The two of them the only inhabitants of the small world between them.
Danny got up and stood in front of him.
"You know Sansa Stark better than probably anyone." Danny said If you think she doesn't and can't return your feelings, then I would be inclined to believe you."
It rather hurt to hear it. A strange kind of pinch that still hadn't gotten any more familiar than the first time he'd felt it.
"Would be. But you're not?"
"No." Danny leaned forward so suddenly that it startled him a little. Her violet eyes glinted in the candlelight. "I know that you risk more than just a rejection. That she is your best friend, and you don't want to lose her. But might be that you won't. It may be that she can't love you the way you love her. But maybe she will. A chance may be a small thing, but it's something . Can you truly imagine living your whole life not knowing?"
Jon gulped, blinked slowly. "I didn't know you for so much of a romantic."
Her answering smile was bright. "Oh, I believe in love Jon Snow. Love saved my life, after all; don't you remember?"
He did. He'd been there, after all. She smiled at him like she knew exactly what he'd thought. Probably she did.
"Goodnight Jon."
Jon kissed her cheek and waited until she closed the door behind her before he found his bed. He slept little that night.
[1] I wanted this quote to open the story because it's fitting: this story will be the kingdom where nobody dies, because the show is about to become a nightmare so why not hide here.