A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, keeps me going! Hope you enjoy where this is headed…
Chapter Four
Arya fought back a smile, she was cloaked as a guard of House Lannister. She had followed Sansa the whole way, keeping eyes on Littlefinger, that wretch. Arya was impressed her big sister had not given away Arya's presence, but as Arya had been on her own journey, she could tell Sansa had gone through her own trials and tribulations too, and to each their own. Arya respected Sansa more now than ever before, before she didn't think much at all of her pretty and naïve elder sister, but today, her sister was a fighter.
Their plan was almost perfect, Sansa was within the Lannister walls trying to convince Cersei of the North's loyalty to her, while Littlefinger plotted to overthrow Sansa and Cersei. The Stark girls were anything but naïve. Arya would infiltrate the barracks and when Cersei least expected it, Arya would slit her throat and avenge the fallen Starks, leaving Sansa on the throne. She had watched Bran go his own way, searching for Jon. Ever since his departure, a single raven seemed to circle Arya wherever she went.
Bran's words to her were chilling, 'if you seek revenge, dig two graves.' He had warned, but Arya didn't pay much heed to Bran. She was sure he had learnt his own wisdom just like Sansa, Arya and probably Jon. Arya had found that wisdom was a fickle thing, she only suited the one who shared it.
Arya had dug her own grave a long time ago, death was not a thing of fear to her. It was a merciful mistress, promising peace. The issue that Arya had was the giant rock she had placed upon her heart to silence its cries seemed to be shifting, and with each Stark reunion she was revived enough to long to embrace a Stark. She pushed the thoughts aside, she could not risk her mask slipping.
She was her father's daughter and she would make him proud.
Daenerys had summoned Jon to her chambers, upon entering, Jon was surprised to find Tyrion, Daario and a few soldiers in the room. He felt a tinge of dislike for Daario but ignored it. He and Daenerys were unlikely to share more time alone after their last conversation. He thought he had done the right thing, told her they should keep their emotions out of their relations. That they ought to keep their connection strictly political and nothing more…
The problem was, Jon feared he might be in love with her, and if it wasn't love, it was at the very least, an intense lust. He was a man of discipline and had too much respect for Daenerys, she had suffered as much as, if not more, than his own sisters. He admired her and wished to honour that. But since their conversation in the training room, Daenerys behaved as if nothing had happened, as if she had not let Jon get close enough to even suggest intimacy of any kind. Like the flicking of a switch, Daenerys seemed to feel nothing for Jon. Being a seasoned politician, perhaps she was better at wearing masks than he was, Jon thought, but nonetheless, whatever flames were catching between the two had been firmly put out.
"Tyrion and I were discussing moving your men from Winterfell to Dragonstone."
Jon frowned but listened to what she had to say.
"It's a safer base. We know it inside out, every entrance every exit, we have it covered. Winterfell makes us sitting ducks. It's too open, too harsh. An easy target."
Tyrion gave Jon a nod, Jon returned the nod.
"So you want to uproot my men, and what of their families?"
"They can come too. There's plenty of room in Dragonstone. You've seen it yourself."
Jon looked at Daenerys's counsel of Tyrion, Daario and the soldiers. He nodded.
"Very well."
"About Sansa… word has it, she is in talks with Cersei, pledging the allegiance of the North to House Lannister."
This came as a blow to Jon.
"I know Sansa, Jon. Something else is at play here."
"I don't know, Tyrion. She seems to admire Cersei to say the least."
Tyrion nodded, a silence hung in the air between them all. Jon locked eyes with Daenerys, her expression gave nothing away. It was only when Daario perched on the arm of her chair, that gave Jon reason to leave abruptly. A
His abrupt exit left Tyrion with a concerned look, he glanced at Daenerys and Daario.
"Could I have a moment, my Queen?"
Daenerys gave Daario a look. Daario stood, he did his best not to scowl at Tyrion and stalked out of the room.
"What is it?"
"Snow is a good man, and your highness, if you do not mind me stating the obvious, you fall in lust quite fast …" Daenerys shot him a warning look, Tyrion continued regardless. "And Jon strikes me as the kind to fall in … love."
Daenerys scoffed, "Tyrion, I promise you he is not as naïve as you believe him to be. But I appreciate your concern. We have chosen to keep our relation strictly political."
"A marriage would be political."
She stood abruptly, she didn't want to hear it.
"Tyrion, please. I do not have time to play games. If there's something you wish to say, spit it out."
Tyrion could tell from her words that he had made a chink in her armour.
"I don't like Daario."
"Well, thank the Gods, you aren't sleeping with him." Daenerys shot back.
Tyrion gave her a look. Like two stubborn toddlers each held their ground. They shared a mutual respect and an honesty that few dared to share with the Queen.
"My Queen." Tyrion nodded then ducked out of the chamber. Daenerys shook her head and let out a small laugh. Tyrion was being ridiculous. Jon Snow was not in love with her, surely. If anything he had warned her to keep stock of her emotions which was good political advice. She would include him in future warfare discussions.
The way she saw it, she had fun with Daario. There were no emotions, no mess, it was clean. Whatever it was, was clear. With Daario she didn't need to think of her own character, or why her heart was hammering so hard, nor did she have to fret he would reject her or think of the implications.
Daenerys didn't have time for Jon Snow. Not romantically. And he had made it abundantly clear he had no intention of romance.
Tyrion was pushed into the wall and hauled round until he was facing Daario.
"Don't put ideas into her head."
"With due respect, Daario, this is the roughest an escort has handled me and I can't say I'm enjoying it."
Daario seethed, Tyrion fought back a smile. He loved getting under people's skin.
"And secondly, your Queen is too smart for me or anyone to put ideas in her head."
Daario scoffed as he stood over Tyrion.
"Tyrion." Jon's voice interjected, Tyrion sighed a breath of relief at the sight of Snow.
"Is everything well here?" Jon looked from Tyrion to Daario. Daario smirked at him. He patted Jon's cheek.
"Shouldn't you be laying with the Queen? Oh wait, that's me she longs for." Jon remained silent. He shoved Jon.
"You should be gathering your men and sending them to Dragonstone."
"It's unwise to insult-" Tyrion tried to intercede, but Daario pushed him aside and stepped closer to Jon.
Daario chuckled, "she loves me, and love is a doing word."
Jon gave him a dry smile, "It speaks to her character that she is able t tolerate such a… small, petty, man."
Jon patted Daario on the back and walked away. Tyrion chuckled. Daario glowered at him.
"What? That was funny."
The journey back to Dragonstone was long, tense and silent for the most part. Daenerys and Jon took turns to stare out at sea. Jon had no desire to watch Daario lay hands on Daenerys, so instead he took a burning torch and descended into the bottom of the bottom where a small dragon chained to a post purred and slumbered.
He gazed at it. It was incredible. He had seen all kinds of things, but the dragons were gorgeous creatures.
He heard her steps before he saw her. Daenerys had entered the room too. Jon gave her a respectful bow.
"My Queen."
The two stood in silence and watched the dragon slumber.
"Majestic."
Daenerys glanced at Jon, he was the first man who didn't feel threatened by the dragons or repulsed or terrified. He saw what she saw in them, they were things of beauty and power.
"I like to watch them. It's humbling."
Daenerys smiled. Jon looked at her, she shook her head and shrugged.
"You watch them to feel humbled, I watch them to feel empowered."
Jon smiled and turned back to the dragon.
"You'd be powerful with or without them. You're a good leader."
Daenerys glanced at him again. Jon turned to her with a confused look on his face, he wanted to say something.
"What is it?"
"I was drunk when I spoke with you the other night. Please forgive anything I might have said that seemed out of line."
Daenerys studied him intently, he was so clueless to his charm.
"Jon, you advised me to stay focussed and I appreciate that. I don't have the patience or time for love and fairytales."
"Says the mother of dragons." He quipped. She smiled at him with a tilted head.
"What do you say we call our partnership a friendship?"
She extended her hand. He pulled off his glove and took her hand into his and shook it. He gripped it with a firm but tentative hold, it made her heart flutter. She dared not lock eyes with him.
"I am honoured to be a friend."
"As am I." She smiled. "Maybe someday you can tell me about her."
"Ygritte …" He chuckled and shook his head. "She was a fighter, brave, impulsive."
"My Khal was similar. He was my moon and my stars."
As Jon watched Daenerys speak of Khal Drogo, she walked closer to the dragon and stroked it gently. He caught her eyes tearing up as she spoke, though she did her best to keep her back to him, he stepped to the side and watched. He could not look away, this was the real Daenerys. This was who she was at her core, a privilege he was honoured to witness.
"Do you wonder if the heart can love more than once?"
"I fear the heart is boundless." Jon confessed. "It lives and dies with each new season, each new love."
Daenerys looked at him.
"What do you think of Daario?"
Jon paused now. He did not wish to offend the Queen but lying to her would be a disservice.
"He loves your power."
"You think he does not love me?" Daenerys asked, more curious than offended. It was something Jon noticed too. Was she cold? Or was Daario simply a time pass for her?
"He claims to." Daenerys added.
"My Queen, you are not seeking love. I would not think too much into it." He bowed to her then excused himself from the room. Daenerys watched him go, any other man would have taken the opportunity to tear Daario apart, but not Jon Snow.
"My lord?"
Jon stopped in his steps.
"Thank you for agreeing to move your men to dragonstone."
"We're in this together. Whatever this is." Jon promised. "Call me Jon, please."
She turned back to her dragon and planted a small kiss on his head. She could feel Jon's eyes on her, but she didn't turn around. Instead she closed her own and enjoyed the silence down here, away from the crowd upstairs.
Jon turned away and climbed the steps. As he burst out into the cool night air, he felt like he could breathe again. He desired her, and it was proving difficult to ignore. He worried she could tell, but if she could, she had not given anything away.
"Jon!" Tyrion beckoned him from amidst a group of women Jon assumed were pretty but right now he couldn't care less. He had Daenerys's eyes etched into his mind, the feeling of her soft hand in his played over and over through his head.
"Join me. A drink for Jon!" Tyrion ordered with gumption. A few women hurried to the bottles of ale and huddled around Jon, one pulled him by the arm as the other caressed his cheek. Jon took the bottle and batted the women away.
"I am flattered, but not tonight." He raised his bottle to Tyrion then took a swig. Tyrion cast a pointed look at Daenerys who had emerged from the staircase. She fought back a small smile. Her smile faded as she felt Daario take her hand.
"Shall we go to your chamber?"
"Not tonight." Daenerys said, keeping her eyes on Jon as he moved through the crowd and sat with some of his soldiers. The men laughed and spoke at the fire, the auburn flames cast Jon's face in a warm glow.
As if he could somehow feel her watching, Jon's eyes flicked across the fire and locked with hers.
"Mind if I join you?"
Jon bowed his head.
"My Queen!" The men bowed too. She sat among them and listened to their stories, and found herself laughing with them. A soldier handed her a bottle of ale, Daenerys took the bottle and took a swig. They cheered.
"My Queen, tell us about the dragons."
"Dragons!" The men started to chant, Jon's grin was so contagious, Daenerys felt it creep across her own lips as she told them tales of her dragons.
