AUTHOR'S NOTE:
how's it going, fellas? i present this story both nervously and excitedly because it means a lot to me and i can only hope it will bring you all as much joy as it does to me.
first things first, this started out as some sort of a project between a friend of mine. dany's povs are largely her doing while jon's (and several others') are mine. like the tags say, this is a particularly ambitious slow burn, but trust me when i say that the payoff will totally be worth it. we started working on it during the hiatus before season 7 and it's still ongoing, so plenty of material awaits.
another thing: we've mixed book and show elements. we kept the stuff in the show that we liked more (like davos and daario or jon looking like kit hair and eye color wise) and kept plenty of things from the books (val, satin, dany's and melisandre's appearance, etc.)
anyway, i won't keep babbling on for much longer. this story is my baby and i'm really excited to share it, so if you would like to experience the wonders of jonerys in different circumstances, grab your popcorn and enjoy the ride!
DAENERYS I
As a child, Daenerys had heard tales of the harsh winds of the North. Her brother had spoken about savages, giants, and a giant wall of ice that would stretch from west to east, as tall as the horizons and grazing the clouds. With all the things she had heard, it was clearly a contrast to her own life in Essos, where the sun always burned, where the sand dunes could quickly erase all tracks and paths in the desert. The sun was the enemy on the other side of the sea, it was life and death. She had seen what the sun could do to people, how delirious thirsty people were and how sick it could make children, horrors of peeling, scorched skin haunting her dreams. She had never thought she would miss its intense warmth, but traveling through the North and with barely a single ray of sunshine breaking through the thick layers of clouds, she found herself longing for its blazes, no matter how much damage they were capable of causing.
The North certainly had its own beauty. At first, it was rough, and wild, and green. There were endlessly rolling hills, mountains, and great grass plains with nothing but plants and stones. The beauty truly captivated her when she saw the ground was covered in white. At one point, she promptly got off her white horse, much to the dismay of her company. A hand gingerly craned out as she crouched by the side of the road, a curved, pebbled path through the woods, away from the curious eyes lurking on the kingsroad. Her fingertips pressed into the winter blanket, the cold bolting through her veins, leaving her skin numb. With eyes wide in fascination, she scooped some of the snow into her palm, ignoring the uncanny burning senzation that developed in her flesh. With one reluctant close of her fist, she started feeling it melt, gradually warm up against the heat of her skin.
The moment hastily ended, for she had to resume her journey to the far end of the North. She had to reach the Wall before her enemies learned of her destination. Standing back straight, she whirred around, taking a moment to observe the same gleams of fascination etched through the faces of her loyal followers – Unsullied, six in total, as much as she could get away with during the chaos of her escape. At the Wall, no one could touch her as soon as the gate closed behind her. She would be safe at Castle Black if only she could convince the Lord Commander that she was worth protecting. She had been told that no women resided there, she had been warned of rapists and thieves, but even criminals were better than falling into the hands of Euron Greyjoy and ending up the victim of his crazy ambitions.
Thinking back on that abhorrent moment was not easy for Daenerys. Euron Crow-Eye had shown up on her doorstep during a great moment of need, when Meereen had been spiraling out of control, when all she had been able to dream of was how blessed it would be to find new allies, a bigger army, and, most importantly, ships. The latter was what the Greyjoys specialized in, his brother, Victarion, had proudly proclaimed. Euron had arrived with an armada at his back, forces of the ironborn, and promises of his unwavering loyalty, for all he sought was independence for his kingdom.
Of course, that had not lasted very long. Somewhere in between this newly forged alliance and that dark day, Dany had crossed paths with Tyrion Lannister. When allowed to spill his wisdom, one of his first pieces of advice had been to sever ties with Euron and Victarion. The Greyjoys knew nothing of promises and honor and she ought to expect a great price for his help some day. And when she had dared confront Euron about what his intentions truly were, that was when hell had unleashed.
He had stepped out into the balcony of the Great Pyramid, unsheathed a strange horn tied at his hip, and blown it once. Daenerys had heard a screech, the flutter of dragon wings, and everything after had been a blur. When Drogon had started raining fire down on the stationed Unsullied, her own horror had left her paralyzed. It had been Grey Worm and the other five that were currently with her now that had escorted her outside, despite how hard she had clawed, and fought, and screamed out of fear for her children, who no longer listened to her.
At the exit, she had only been given a fleeting moment with Tyrion and Varys, both of them who had brief and quick directions to give. "Sail to Westeros," Tyrion had said, the pained screeches of dragons booming in her ears. "Varys will find you allies in Westeros. Go to the Wall. It's the only place that knows no allegiance, that knows no king."
She had barely made it away and to the docks, where a ship that allegedly transported fish between Meereen and Pentos awaited. It turned out the crew had been paid generously by the Spider to safely get her across the Narrow Sea. She had sailed through the waters of Slaver's Bay again, picking up whispers of the chaos tearing apart Astapor and Yunkai. They had gone through the Gulf of Grief, forced to make a detour past the ruins of Valyria; the captain had been too afraid to sail on the waters of the Smoking Sea. They had made stops at Volantis, at Lys, and at Tyrosh, constantly on the run, knowing Euron had sent his acolytes to trace her steps.
And then they had finally reached the Narrow Sea, voyaging past Estermont, and Tarth, and Dragonstone, which her heart had ached for even though it had been nothing but a distant blotch on the horizon. When they had passed the Fingers, leaving the Narrow Sea behind for the Shivering Sea, that had been the moment when the cold started to creep through her bones. The ship had turned left past the Three Sisters, docking after months of travels at White Harbor, as far as this particular ship had been allowed to travel. From then on, Daenerys had been forced to make the journey on foot, crossing almost the entirety of the North through deserted roads hidden among tall and scrawny trees.
After another night of freezing in a tent left to the mercy of the cold and the harsh winds, she could finally see the Wall in the distance. Even from a great distance, the border and defense between the North and the frozen lands beyond it looked awe-inspiring and impossibly great, unjustly described by her brother seemingly eons before. She retold the story of Bran the Builder as she remembered it to her companions. She only recalled fragments of the hero of House Stark, but it was enough to entertain her loyal guards, who had been quite literally thrown into a whole new world.
As they got closer, Daenerys felt herself actually feeling nervous. She had no right to stay at the Wall and, worst of all, she could do nothing if she was going to be sent away. She had no trust in the great houses, the Greyjoys had betrayed her and so could the others. Why would anyone follow her without her dragons? She had nothing to offer, no promise of protection or aid could be given to anyone, not until her children returned to her. Her fate was left to chance, she depended on others to show her the mercy that she had provided her own people once. Much to her dismay, she had to rely on the empathy and pity of a man that she knew nothing of.
All of these thoughts were abandoned when the small party reached the gates. Her hood shielded her identity from the guards standing above and her eyes were fixed on the white mane of her horse. "We seek refuge from the cold," she called out, trying to keep her voice composed against the frigid thrills of the cold. "We come with provisions."
Dany could not decipher what words were being exchanged between the guards next. She stood rooted in place in silence as they descended from their posts, opening the gates to greet her and her party outside of Castle Black's walls. "What kind of provisions?" asked one gruff man, his chest puffed and shoulders high, clearly trying to make an impression.
"Meat and wine," Grey Worm interfered, fortunately. She was grateful to see the attention of the three guards adverted toward her companion. Even though her silver-gold hair was safely tucked underneath a hood, the lilac bloomed in her eyes could easily betray her identity. And if she were to be turned away, she refused for it to be at the hand of anyone but the Lord Commander.
Grey Worm and the three chatted for a while and then, finally, one of the black-donned men strolled toward the gates, pushing them open some more. "Go on inside then."
Dany heaved a small breath of relief, quickly transmuted into a cloud against the harsh cold. She had been told the promise of a great meal and a cup of wine might soften the hardened men of the Night's Watch, but moons on that godforsaken ship had left her disheartened toward the smallest of things.
When the gates were properly opened, she rode in before her guards had the chance to. She might have to hide her true identity at first, but she would leave no doubt of who was the leader. She could feel eyes on her as she rode through the courtyard. They will all stare at you. They are not staring at the Dragon Queen, all they see is a woman, she recalled the warning she had been given by the crew on the ship. The men of the Night's Watch were not used to women, they were isolated in the dark castle with only each other for company.
A whirlwind of whispers was unleashed all around her. Some were subtle, some were not.
"I dreamed of her last night," Dany heard, accidentally listening in to the conversation closest to her.
"Fuck off," grunted another man. "You'd be lucky to get on with her horse, Rast."
The rest of the exchange was lost to her as the steps of her mare led her further into the courtyard. But something told her she did not wish to know how it ended regardless.
She dismounted her horse when one of the men in dark cloaks took a hold of the reins. She avoided eye contact with the man as he led her mare away to the stables. "She is not used to the cold, I would be grateful if you give her extra hay for warmth." The words were soft but commanding, she only hoped that the boy would take orders from a woman. As the men gathered around to watch the party, she could feel her guards getting into position behind her, ready to defend her if need be.
"I wish to speak with the Lord Commander," Dany said to anyone that might be listening. She held her head higher as the words left her mouth. Her voice was slightly trembling but not with fear, the cold was still harsh even in the courtyard. Dany was frozen to her bones, she had hoped the fire in her blood would have kept her warm, but it stood no chance against the icy winds of the North. She caught the gaze of a young man when she noticed no one was moving to fetch their leader. She opened her mouth to bark out another order, but she soon heard a slight commotion on the stairs above her.
She raised her gaze slightly and her eyes quickly landed on a figure dressed all in black like all of the men around her, but she could tell by the way that the others stepped aside that he was their leader. Her own people had shown her that respect once. She kept her eyes on him as he neared her, not wanting to appear weak or frightened. Her blue cloak whipped around her dark dress, but the hood with the white fur lining withstood the wind and kept her identity hidden. Her name had only ever inspired two reactions – either her Targaryen name demanded loyalty or it awoke hate and anger, there had been no in between yet. This was neutral ground but she was unsure of where she stood, no one had ever looked at her with neutrality, everyone always had an opinion of her before even meeting her.
The man got closer, allowing Dany to distinguish his image better, catching side of a tangled mass of dark curls and equally dark eyes. She tucked her hood closer around her, able to only hope this man would not judge her before knowing her. The Targaryens were not loved in the North, but all she would ask for was a chance to prove why she and her men were worth protecting. She just needed a chance to speak with him. Daenerys tried to prevent herself from shaking under the cloak, but the ride had been long and hard, it had drained both her warmth and energy.
When he halted, she took it as her cue to speak, "Lord Commander?" Her tone was hesitant and trying. After all, she was still unsure of who she was actually addressing. If this truly were the Lord Commander, the man was younger than she had expected. Could he truly be the one to determine her fate?
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
whew! here we go! this was more of a prologue of sorts rather than a proper chapter, but the dany and jon interaction starts next time, so do not fret. lots of exciting things are coming, so tune in for future chapters and let's get engaged in this feel fest together, ya-ya?
this fic will be updated weekly.