SUMMARY: Daenerys learns about Aemon and finds out what kind of leader Jon Snow is.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

alright, here's the promised update and, at last, the final part of this lengthy conversation!

one small thing, shoutout to the song "in a week" by hozier which served as inspiration for the series name and gives me major jonerys vibes. maybe i'll drop some more song recs in the future to make other people suffer as well.

anyway, i don't have much to say in here, so enjoy!

DAENERYS III

Dany's eyes lit up with at the prospect of another Targaryen.

"Forgive me," Jon Snow added, "I'm not well-versed in your familial ties, so I do not know of how much blood you shared. Maester Aemon rests now." All so soon, her hopes thwarted once again with those three words. "It won't ever happen now, but for all's worth, I thought you'd like to know that there was still some family left who's been thinking about you all this time."

"I have heard the name before. I believe he was my great-grandfather's brother," she said, quietly. "I thought I was the only one left after my brother's death. Just a lone dragon in the world. You wolves are not the only ones who can be lonesome, you know." The words were uttered with a sad smile.

There was no point in mourning what she never had. She had gotten used to the fact that there was no other with her blood, she had accepted that special kind of loneliness that came with the knowledge that never would she find someone with white hair or purple eyes to match hers.

Despite never having any family who actually cared about her, it warmed her heart to know someone had been thinking about her when she had been across the sea. One particular question weighed heavy on her, not knowing if she truly wanted to hear the answer.

"Was he a good man?" Dany finally dared to ask.

She had planned to move on from the subject, never one to be too comfortable in discussing the family that she never got to meet, but curiosity got the better of her. All the men in her family seemed to be cursed with fatal flaws. Her brother, Viserys, had been as insane as her father had been according to her advisers from Westeros.

Even Rhaegar had taken a woman from a noble house without permission. Despite all his bravery and kind nature that Ser Selmy had spoken of, that was something she could never make peace with. Her eyes fluttered slightly as her gaze was drawn to Jon again after they had drifted elsewhere along with her thoughts. Rhaegar had taken his aunt, she knew that much.

Viserys used to speak of the Stark woman with such a poisonous tone that Daenerys had pictured Lyanna as more of a monster than a woman when she was a child, but she understood things differently now. Had she not been taken by a man against her will herself? The woman was hardly to blame for her family's tragic fate; her brother had been the one to start the chain of events that led to the Targaryens' doom.

She had often wondered if all the men bearing the Targaryen name had such serious flaws, if they all had the same kind of arrogant boldness. She silently wondered if it was in her too. Some would probably readily agree that it was in there somewhere, just waiting to explode and destroy everything around her.

"Aye, he was one of the best men I knew," Jon Snow replied, his voice soft and full of melancholy. "I would not be standing here if it weren't for Maester Aemon and my friend, Sam. I'm not certain if I should be grateful for that or not." His lips twitched upward, but only briefly, and he crossed his gaze with hers again as he rolled his shoulders. "He was wise and kind, yet he always knew how to tactfully put in place the occasional twat the Watch fosters. Even though he was blind, he could see some things better than most with two healthy eyes could."

It felt freeing to know the man had been kind. It gave her hope the Targaryen madness could be forgiving and spare her as well.

"Thank you," she breathed out. The words did not seem like enough, but it was all she had to offer him, it was all she could give. "I find an odd comfort in that knowledge."

"You are most welcome," he replied meekly, not feeling like a formality.

She wondered what the old man had looked like; whether he had eyes like hers or not, her hair or her temper. Maybe his eyes had been a darker shade of purple. The kind words Jon used to describe her deceased family member unleashed a strange melancholy within her. She had accepted being the last Targaryen a long time ago. Her heart understood what that meant, but knowing she had been so close to meeting another living Targaryen was hard for her to fully accept.

"I would like to see his grave soon," she said suddenly.

Her eyes were soft as she found his gaze once more. His dark eyes were full of ghosts, a look she could easily recognize because she often saw it in her own eyes when she looked at her reflection.

Before Jon could reply, she leaned forward slightly in her seat, fighting the urge to grab his hand to get his full attention. The small movement seemed to be enough and she sent him a wistful smile. "Promise me that you will take me there before my stay here ends." Maybe it was a naive and childish hope, but she wanted the man who had seen nothing but a good man in Aemon to show her where he had been put to rest for eternity.

With a sigh, Jon spoke, "We only have a commemorative gravestone for him, I'm afraid. He is buried on board of the Cinnamon Wind, the ship he was on while journeying to Oldtown."

"Oh." Dany felt a pang of disappointment at the news.

Jon pondered momentarily for a solution, something that was vivid through the fidgeting of his hands. After a few seconds, he slipped out of his thoughts.

"But if it means anything, you can take his journals, writings, and belongings. They would only get burned or lost otherwise. There is no better place for his thoughts and memories than with the family he wanted to meet."

"He had journals? I would love to read them." Dany would get the opportunity to glance into his thoughts for a while. Maybe it would end with her feeling like she knew Aemon Targaryen despite never getting the chance to meet him.

"Many of them were a maester's work," Jon said. "But I wager there is some insight into his life as well in there."

She truly did want to know more about the old man who had spent most of his life away from his family, but who had been there in the same realm as them all his life. He had been so close to all of it, he had been at the Wall when Robert Baratheon had murdered her brother and unleashed the Lannisters on her poor sister-in-law and her children.

"It must have been hard for him to stay here when the traito-" She stopped herself before continuing, having to remember who she was talking to. After all, she did not wish to speak ill of the dead in front of their children. "We lost our entire family in such a short amount of time. It must have been unbearable for him to stay here without being able to do anything. When the Usurper took the throne, he must have suffered beyond belief."

She was mostly talking to herself; her violet hues were hazy and betrayed that her mind was many leagues away.

Jon sighed, "I would not know. I was but a babe."

"Of course." Dany offered an understanding smile. "Pay no mind. I was thinking aloud."

"No matter. I am certain Maester Aemon appreciates your thoughts are with him, wherever he is."

A sudden chill brought Daenerys back to the study from the distant realms of her melancholy and she quickly moved on from the delicate subject, knowing Jon might have gotten affected by her words too. She shuddered and reached out to pick up her cloak and wrap it around herself as a blanket.

"How do you bear the constant cold?" Dany asked, curiously. "The North is wildly beautiful, but the weather is ruthless here. There is always a chill in the air and the wind constantly blows without mercy. Last night I honestly thought that I might wake up a block of ice." It was a half-hearted attempt at a joke to lighten her own mood.

"I'm, uh… I'm a Northener," he uttered shortly, pressing his lips in a tight line. "It's cold in the North and it's in our blood to withstand it. I'm certain that at the opposite side of the land, I would turn redder than a blushing bride before giving my last breath on the sand dunes of Dorne."

She chuckled quietly.

"What an awful fate to befall a Northerner, but it does make me feel better for freezing up here in the North."

"It looks like you find comfort in the strangest of things."

"I am merely hopeful that I do not actually turn to ice when I am here. It would be quite the ironic death for the Unburnt."

"As would melting be for a Northerner."

"Do you not dream of the sun and warmth?" The question was sincere, asked despite having promised herself to try and quell her unwavering curiosity. But she could not help her desire to get to know the young man sitting on the other side of the desk. She was going to stay in the castle where he ruled, so she told herself it was only natural to be curious of who exactly was holding her safety, maybe even her life, in his hands.

He stood up slowly.

"I would rather not dream of the things I cannot have," he said flatly, circling around the desk and drawing near the frosty window.

"That sounds like quite the hopeless approach. Dreams are for the things we cannot have."

"Perhaps." Dany studied him curiously, noting the deep gloom veiling his features. He looked not much older than her, yet he was hardened way beyond his age. "The rest of my life, however long it will be, is sworn to this castle. It's always dark and cold here and with winter coming, it will only grow more."

"I suppose there is an undeniable truth in that." A moment of silence. "May I ask something personal?" She noticed how his eyes glided toward her, filled with hesitance. Yet he offered her a nod nonetheless.

For some reason, Daenerys felt herself wanting to ask the Lord Commander a million questions, not sure where this sudden want came from. Though she had felt it before, it had always been with good cause and reason. The Lord Commander was not someone she needed to know everything about.

Either he let her stay or he did not, there was nothing she could do to change that.

He faced the pressure of his men; she had heard that food was in short supply as was proper warmth. The deal was struck and knowing things about him like what he thought of it always being cold, how much did he miss his family, who had treated him differently because of his nature of birth, what kind of leader did he wish to become, what could make a hardened brother of the Night's Watch like him laugh as she had, none of these things mattered to their deal.

And yet she longed to know.

"How did you end up in the Watch?" Based on all that Dany had seen so far, she had no doubts he seemed like a good man. But this only made his presence among nefarious thieves and murderers all the more confusing.

"Out of my stupid volition," he replied, smiling.

"Why stupid? From what I have gathered, all too few men choose to take the black nowadays."

"For a good reason, I would say. It is not particularly pleasant and it is even less honorable."

Daenerys stopped to think for a moment.

"At the very least, you have accomplished your goals."

"My goals?"

His own confusion confused her in turn.

"You are Lord Commander, are you not?"

"I never wished to be Lord Commander. I have always wanted to be a ranger."

Once again, his words were unexpected and surprising.

"You did not want to be Lord Commander? I thought it was some sort of election. How do you get chosen without agreeing to it?" There were many things Daenerys did not understand about Westeros and this was certainly one of those things that she could not wrap her head around. She understood the concept of an election, a concept she had thought about often, but its particularities proved to be lost on her.

"I was nominated," he uttered after a moment, eyes aimlessly scouting the frozen glass of the windows. "A lot happened before the elections. I was certain the rest of the men would never want to speak to me again, let alone they would want me to lead them."

"If you were chosen, especially without nominating yourself, surely most of these men have an unwavering faith in you? It takes a lot to choose someone who does not wish for it."

Dany did not know the whole story, she did not know who else would have been in the running for Lord Commander, she did not know who had pointed to Jon as the right man for the title, but she understood it must have been someone who had placed their entire faith and hope in the man before her. It was a heavy duty to carry, perhaps even heavier than the one she had carried.

"My friend Sam does," he replied after a moment, a brief smile carving its way into his features. "He's always believed in me. He was the one to propose me for the position. A few nights before the election, there was a giant battle, right here. The Wildlings attacked us. We had no one to lead us, to stand ahead of the defense lines." With a swift movement, he wheeled his head towards the window by the desk, staring at the horizon opposite of which stood, tall and mighty, the Wall. "I don't know what got into me, but I knew we were never going to win with what he had. So, I took the command. Seems like some of the brothers saw that as worthy of being rewarded with a title."

Daenerys listened intently to him talk about how he became Lord Commander.

The tale was different from what she imagined but it was one she knew all too well. He had risen up when everyone around him had failed to do so, he had flowered in adversity and taken the command among chaos and death. She liked to believe she had done the same. She had been failed by her bloodline, her own brother failing to become what a Targaryen conqueror should be.

With her husband dead, the Dothraki would have fallen into the hands of somebody who would have simply gone back to raping women and taking slaves. She had fought against a system ancient as time itself. She had become a leader because she felt she could do better, tear the system down and replace it with justice. There was no shame in that.

"You took command because you felt that you could do better," Daenerys said, her voice full of unwavering conviction. "We are more alike than you may realize, Jon Snow."

In the dim dances of pale sunlight and candles, she caught his eyes in what could only be described as a silent understanding.

"We could be," he replied, his voice low.

"I did not want to become a leader either, not at first," she found herself suddenly saying, her eyes finding the fiddling of her hands, settled in her lap. "But I believed that I could make the world a better place and I still believe that. To me, that is the only valid reason anyone can have to become a leader."

Her eyes fell on him, full of curiosity and slight wonder despite the painful memory ripping up old wounds. The sadness was visible in her eyes, but it was always there, sometimes tucked away in the back of her mind. Other times it was all she could think of. She had learned to control it, she had forced herself to. That life disappeared with the fire when you were reborn. All that pain belongs in a past life.

"Do you believe that too?" Daenerys asked quietly. "Will you try and change things for the better?"

If he did not have that desire, what was the point in being Lord Commander? Anyone could take a title and do exactly what those before them had done, it did not take a leader to do that.

"All we can do is try, is it not?" Jon replied, his expression difficult to decipher in the wake of the reveal of her own tale.

Dany realized their conversation had turned deep and meaningful fast without her meaning to stir it in that direction, but she found herself quite fond of the words shared between them. They actually meant something, they were not just boring formalities or shallow, comfortable words shared by strangers. She learned something about Jon every time he opened his mouth, and in turn, he saw her too for what she truly was.

Jon returned to the desk to pick up the black leather gloves.

"It's getting late," he observed as he slid them on his fingers. "Your men will probably knock down my door if we don't return as quickly as possible." Either that or his own men would do it, demanding explanations. On his way to the door, he halted next to Daenerys, stretching out an inviting hand. "Shall we go join them?"

She hesitated for a small moment at the thought of going back outside even for just a moment. Inside his study there was peace and it was warm, but Daenerys knew all peaceful moments had an end. Duty was always there lurking in the shadows.

She put her dainty hand in his and she stood up. Her joints felt less stiff than they had when she had arrived at Castle Black. The warmth had loosened and softened her muscles, allowing her to move more gracefully and less restrained under the thick wool of her dress.

"Thank you," she spoke softly, her eyes meeting his in a small moment of gratitude.

The words held more meaning than just appreciation for helping her up on her feet. She wanted to thank him for everything, mostly for giving her a moment of much-needed serenity, but she could not find the right words, so she settled for a simple word of appreciation.

She let go of his hand and buttoned the top of her cloak, readying herself for the harsh wind raging outside. "Time to face the music then."

The air outside felt crisp and ruthless as it wrapped around her thawed skin. Instinctively, she tucked the blue cloak tighter around her chest, quickly following after the Lord Commander as he started walking. She was eager to get some movement and warmth in her bones.

Dany was in no doubt her time at the Wall would be interesting. If some of the men truly did not wish her there merely because she was a woman, how would they react when they realized who exactly they were harboring? Despite Daenerys Targaryen being more than a myth than anything in Westeros, there were still those who looked upon her and only saw her father or brother.

All thoughts of anonymity left her when they entered the hall.

The tension was so thick she wagered she could cut it with a knife. It was clear neither group of men trusted each other nor wanted to make an attempt at forging a bond. The Unsullied had found their place in the far corner of the hall, not a single man of the Night's Watch sitting by the table.

She was so focused on her men that she nearly missed the murmurs which spread in the hall like wildfire.

Targaryen. Daughter of the Mad King. Mother of Dragons.

Dany blinked a few times as she took in all the reactions, realizing she had completely forgotten about the hood upon entering the hall.

Daenerys had not planned on keeping her identity a secret long anyway, but she had not been prepared for the looks of both curiosity and fascination, but also the few looks of deep disgust. It was clear some of the men had already formed their opinion of her and she could quickly guess these people wanted her gone the minute she stepped foot inside their hall.

Eventually, the looks from some of the men of the Night's Watch slipped from her to the man beside her.

"What is she doing here?" The voice rang out clearly in the hall, filled with revulsion.

"The Night's Watch is no place for a woman." Another voice quickly followed suit and the muttering only grew louder.

She understood now why Jon had hesitated before granting her sanctuary. He must have known they would react like this. If he backed down to his men, she would have no place to go. Her best chance would be Dorne but that journey would be long and she was not sure if she or her men were ready to brave such a travel with limited supplies.

Her only hope was that he was a strong leader, one who believed enough in himself to go against his own followers.

She could hear the Unsullied start shuffling about and getting up from their seat.

"Daor! Sit ilagon se gaomagon daorun." The order was clear: they were to sit down and do nothing at all.

After her men had been stilled, her gaze immediately flew to Jon. She understood her place. He was their leader and so it was him who had to speak up. Despite having preferred peace and no trouble, she was interested to see how he would react.

They had talked about leadership, now the time had come to act upon his words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i hope y'all ready for some spicy watch drama to go down next chapter. this update's gonna be pretty eventful. so, if you made it so far through this bulky conversation, things will happen, hallelujah!

there's no FAQ in this chapter, but to that one considerate reviewer: this story is also on AO3, yes. it's sweet of you to recommend it. :')

as per usual, lots of thanks for the reviews, favorites, follows, and, most of all, for the reads.