Breaking The Wheel: A GOT Season 8 Fanfic
By 2Littlewing aka Cerece Rennie Murphy
Notes: Welcome to Part IV of my GOT fan fic. Thanks for reading. No infringement intended. Viva Le FanFic!
Chapter 6: House Targaryen
Though the Long Night was over, Sam felt as if his watch still had not ended. The shift in climate was almost jarring as the snows tapered, then ceased within a week. A bitter wind still ruled the air during the late night and early morning, but it was nothing more than a dying man's bluff. The lakes of the North had already begun to thaw, prompting the Lady of Winterfell to seek Sam's advice on crops to plant in the coming Spring.
Between managing the constant communication between Winterfell, the Citadel, and the rest of Westeros and caring for the injured as the new acting Maester of Winterfell, Sam and Gilly barely had a moment to rest. But all those duties were secondary to his greatest charge, carrying for his best friend, Jon, who had been in and out of a terrible fever for the better part of a week.
But, at least, in Jon's care, Sam had more hands than he could possibly put to work. Sansa and Arya bought cool towels and food every hour, even though there were countless servants who could have done the task for them. Sir Davos and Gendry changed his bed linens and submerged Jon in ice baths every day to break the fever. Even the Dothraki and the Unsullied, who Jon had fought beside enough to earn their respect, offered their own medicines towards his healing. And every night, after Greyworm had fallen asleep, Missandei would sit by Jon's bedside, offering food and comfort to the one person who never left Jon's side.
Once it was clear that the Great War was over, the Northern Lords grieved their dead while finally acknowledging the worthiness of their new Queen. Daenerys Targaryen had fought for them, alongside them with the might of her dragons and her armies. She had lost men, been wounded in battle, and kept fighting. No one who was left in Winterfell had any doubt as to why their King had bent the knee to secure the North's survival. Without her, they would have perished.
Upon Jon's return, each of the surviving lords went out of their way to convey their allegiance, but Dany could not find it within herself to make time for any of them. The truth was that without Jon, she would never have come and without Jon, their loyalty meant nothing to her.
"Your Grace, it's mid-day. Perhaps you should rest awhile. It's not good to exhaust yourself in your condition," Sam offered as he stood just outside Jon's chamber door.
Daenerys had heard the same advice on the lips of others, yet she could not move. Other than some water and a few bites of bread, she had not eaten all day. It took all her energy to fight back the growing despair of déjà vu. It seemed to her that not so long ago she was in the same position, sitting at the side of a bed waiting to lose the man she loved.
But if she was being honest with herself, the situation now was much worse. Dany had learned to love Drogo out of necessity. Jon, she had decided firmly not to love, even as she was drawn to him during their very first meeting. Her heart had opened to him despite her best efforts to hold it back. His respect for her, even in opposition, his kindness, his goodness was undeniable. And when he finally came to her, he did not insist, he placed himself at her doorstep and waited for her to decide.
It was only in their coming together that first night on the journey from Dragonstone to White Harbor that she realized that Jon was the first man, the only man she had ever truly loved.
And now, we've made a child.
The thought of never getting to look into his eyes again and tell him about their child was a tragedy she could not bear. Every Targaryen left in the world was in this room with her. She couldn't leave him if she wanted to.
"Your Grace…you must -"
"Thank you, Sam. If you don't mind, I'd like to talk with the Queen alone."
At the unfamiliar sound, Daenerys turned to find Bran staring back at her. Since she'd met Bran, his gaze was always the same kind of strange, as if he could see right through her. It still made her uncomfortable, but if he had news, any news of when Jon might recover, she would happily endure it.
Sam slipped further out into the hall then closed the door behind him with barely a sound.
"I know how much this child means to you. You should rest."
"How could you know that?" Dany asked. Unless you have suffered what I have suffered, you could not know.
"Because I saw what you sacrificed in Lhazar. I saw you walk into the flames and birth three dragons. I saw you risk those dragons to save Jon beyond the Wall and I saw it cost you the life of one of your children. 'The only children I'll ever have,' you told Jon. Yet now you carry my cousin in your womb. You should rest. Ghost and I will stay with Jon until you return."
Dany was speechless as she listened to Bran recount the worst moments of her life as if he had been there. She wanted to protest his trespasses into her most personal horrors, but she found herself too exhausted for the fight.
Instead, she walked from the room, feeling naked and drained, then closed the door behind her.
When he was sure they were alone, Bran brought himself closer to Jon's bed, so that his wheelchair stopped right next to Jon's chest. He looked at Jon for several moments, feeling the turmoil of the fever and infection in his body. Yet, Bran knew that Jon was stronger than all of these things. Bran closed his eyes and spoke directly into Jon's thoughts
It is time to get up, Jon. You must break free of this doubt and rise.
Bran? Is that you? I can't see. Where am I?
You're at Winterfell in your bed. You've been ill, but your fever has finally broken. It's time to get up. You have ended the Great War, but another gathers that you must be ready to fight.
I'm tired, Bran. I'm tired of fighting. I was your brother. Now, I don't know who I am.
Bran was silent for a moment, remembering the boy he had been and how much all his siblings had meant to him. It was a faint memory, but he could still feel its importance.
You are still my brother, Bran replied. You are who you have always been, Jon. Nothing has changed except now you know the truth of who you are and who you were meant to be.
And, who is that? I don't know who Aegon Targaryen is. All I've ever wanted to be was Ned Stark's son and now….
You are Ned Stark's son. He raised you as his son in honor of your mother, but he loved you as his son because of who you are. Nothing can change that. But you are also the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, who died at the Trident defending your right to exist. Your parents both died protecting you so that you could one day lead. Now is your time. Get up, Jon.
Bran pulled back from his warging and waited. It did not take long for Jon to open his eyes and meet him.
His first breath felt like fire, all down the side of his chest, but Jon managed not to make more than a grunt until the pain and stiffness subsided.
"It's all true then?"
"Yes. All of it."
Slowly, Jon sat up. He wanted to know where everyone was and who survived the battle in his absence, but something more urgent was pressing into the forefront of his mind.
Daenerys.
He knew she was alive. Jon could smell her lingering scent in the room. He wanted to run to her, to wrap his arms around her, and finally offer her more than the hour-by-hour existence of war. The thought of her in his embrace, of even the possibility that she would have him for her own, filled him with a wild hope until he remembered.
I am a Targaryen.
She is my father's sister.
She is my aunt.
When he saw her again, with nothing to distract them from the miracle of their relation and the shame of what they had already done, what would he say?
His hand rose to touch the scar over his heart. Many times over their trip to White Harbor she had traced her fingers over it, kissing the pain of its memory away until, for the first time since his brothers' betrayal, he'd almost forgotten its existence.
When he thought back to their love-making, the way they had come together, he felt warm, right, despite what he knew. There was no shame in love. Even when he had loved a wildling, he never felt ashamed of his feelings. Ygritte had been worthy of his love and so was Daenerys. No matter the circumstances that might force them apart, Jon knew he would never regret loving Daenerys.
"You should speak with her before the others," Bran said with a trace of a smile. "She has some news for you."
Before Jon could ask what Bran meant, he was already turning towards the door.
"Rest yourself. I will make sure she knows that you are awake."
Jon thought he was too anxious to fall asleep, so when he jolted awake at the feel of her hand in his, he was surprised.
For a second, neither of them could speak. The love he felt for her seemed to well up from deep within, then bloom out like a delicious hum all over his body.
How can I hope to stay away from her, no matter who she is to me?
In her eyes, he saw the weight of his own love reflected through the tears that fell down her cheeks. He'd seen Daenerys cry only twice before, once after the death of her dragon-child Viserion and again when she talked about losing her son Rheago. Jon knew it was something she would only allow herself to do in front of him.
Without thought, without effort, he laced his fingers with hers.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I just…I have missed your eyes."
"Dany," his voice was barely audible, but as soon as the words escaped, he regretted them. "I'm sorry…I know you don't -."
Dany smiled and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. That name is yours to call me if you choose. It belongs to you." Jon smiled.
"How is your arm?"
"Better than your chest, I think. Sam says my arm should be healed in another week or so. It's you the entire North is worried about. Your family…will be so pleased to see you've recovered."
Family.
The word hung in the air between them for a moment before Jon slowly extracted his hand from hers.
Dany was hurt, but she couldn't honestly say she was surprised. It was time they dealt with what lay between them.
"You're a part of that family now." The tone of his voice was heavy with regret.
Has it truly changed his feelings for me, she wondered. He looked at her with such love and desire, yet he was holding back. But none of it mattered to her, not anymore.
"Are you ashamed of us, Jon?"
He looked down at where her hand lay on her lap before tracing the soft skin on the back of her hand with his.
"There is no part of me that regrets loving you.," he said before adding. "I just never expected to do the things I've done with you to an aunt. If I had known…"
"But we didn't know. Should we be punished for what we didn't know?"
He looked up at her, finally understanding the calm in her voice.
"This doesn't bother you then, what we are to each other?"
Dany was glad she'd had the time to ask herself the same question. The reasons behind her acceptance had been harder to come by than she would have thought, but now she was happy to be able to give him an answer without hesitation.
"Before I was married to Drogo, there was every possibility that I could have married Viserys. It's not a thought I relished, but it was not uncommon among Targaryens." Dany gave Jon a small smile before continuing. "My mother was my father's sister. After, Drogo, I never thought there was ever a chance to carry on that tradition. If it hadn't been for you, I probably wouldn't have. But you are here and now, I have no choice. I don't care what others may think of us. I only care what you think."
"I don't know what I think. I've been the Bastard of Winterfell all my life. Now, everything is different, but inside, I'm the same. No matter who my father was, the North is my home. No matter what my last name is Stark blood runs through my veins." Jon finally grasped her hand and met her gaze. "And no matter what your relation is to me, I love you. I don't know if that's enough, but that's all I'm sure of."
"And what do you want with me, Jon Snow, King in the North?"
"I'm not a King, not anymore."
"You are to your people and you are to me."
Dany could see the moment when his eyes opened fully to her and it took her breath away.
"When I knocked on your door, that first night, I wanted to ask you to marry me then, but it seemed unfair to ask such a thing when I wasn't sure if I would even live long enough to see our wedding day. But it was never my intention to lay with you and not marry you if you would have me."
"And now?" Dany held her breath as she waited, wondering if he would cross the chasm between them.
"I still want to marry you, if you would have me."
The tears of happiness and relief came all at once, despite Dany's best efforts to maintain her restraint. She leaned forward as Jon raised his hand to her cheek then bid her down to him for a kiss. Her tears ceased as their lips met and for a moment, there was only the silence of deep joy between them.
"Is that a yes?" Jon asked as they broke their kiss.
Staying close, Dany looked into his eyes.
"I think we must," she replied. "I couldn't get rid of you now if I wanted to. Because of you, I have a family. Because of you, our family will have a future." Slowly, with tears brimming in her eyes, Daenerys sat up and brought the hand that had gently cupped her face to the softest part of her belly.
Jon stared at his hand over her clothes and skin for a long moment. Never before had the thought of children entered his mind. His whole life he had been an outcast, with no inheritance, no future, and no legacy to give. He had never looked beyond his life on The Wall and when that was over, life seemed to take on a purpose that had nothing to do with his simple desires. He'd wanted peace when Sansa came to Castle Black, but instead, all he found was war. His only choice had been how to stand against the horrors that threatened those he loved. Until now.
This child, this woman, this life he would have to choose.
His brown eyes held her lavender ones with tears of wonder shining in them. Underneath the palms of their hands was a miracle they both thought they would never behold.
"We'll marry as soon as I can make it down the stairs to the Godswood."
Dany leaned forward and kissed him. "Of course," she replied. "We will be waiting for you."
News of The King in the North's rapid recovery lifted the final cloud of The Long Night from Winterfell. Sansa, Dany, and Davos used the time while Jon was recovering to focus on castle repairs and refurbishment of supplies for the battles ahead. The lords of the North were anxious to return to their keeps and see to their own families, but not before they were able to see the King for themselves and know that the North was in strong hands.
The certainty of Jon's recovery also allowed Dany and Tyrion to refocus on the matter of Cersei and her efforts to regain control of the Seven Kingdoms. Dany knew that her presence in fighting the Great War had earned the respect of the Northern lords, but she still did not know if they would follow her into battle after sustaining such great losses.
True to his word, the first thing Jon did when he was able to stand was meet Daenerys in the Godswood. The ceremony was simple, with Sam officiating under the Weirwood tree and every lord and lady in Winterfell standing by in silent approval. And as Jon took her hand, they rose as King and Queen to gentle smiles and thunderous applause. While some saw love and affection, others saw the favor of the North secured within the Seven Kingdoms. Regardless, they would be a powerful force within the Realm.
Though Sansa had arranged a feast in their honor, Jon and Daenerys postponed the festivities until later that evening. Instead, they decided to confront the latest news from a raven that arrived that morning, confirming that the Golden Company had arrived in Kings Landing and was preparing to make their way from Kings Landing to Dragonstone.