Author's Note: I apologize for being MIA. In December, my family experienced a medical scare. My little sister had suffered terrible migraines, and fainted twice over the period of couple months, after some tests we found out there was a large tumor the size of a gulf ball in her head. Cancer does run in our family, so it was a very scary moment. After many biopsies, tests, we were relieved to find out it was benign tumor. That was only half the battle for her, the surgery took a lot of planning due to the size, and they were able to remove most of it, but not all of it due to the area it was located, but they will continue to monitor it. My sister has been home for a week and a bit. She is recovering well, her motor functions were affected and she is currently in physiotherapy for it. She is a very brave fifteen year old, and I am so proud of her!

Thank you for all still enjoying this story, and sticking with it. I may be a bit rough since I haven't written for a while so please bear with me!

Chapter 7


Jaime stormed into his provided chambers, he nearly scoffed to himself, while any northerner would find the lodging provided by Lord Stark highly adequate, it lacked greatly in comparison to his own room back in the Red Keep. Gold and royal reds were replaced by darks of grays, blacks, and sparse silvers. He sneered to himself at their show of hospitality. He grimaced, how could such humans live in such cold, it was beyond his comprehension. There was a swift knock on his door; he furrowed a brow, who'd dare to disturb Jaime Lannister, the golden lion of House Lannister. There were very few he'd willingly welcome into his room, even in the Red Keep, or Casterly Rock, his siblings remained high on his list.

The knock continued persistently. He sighed in exasperation; he was in no mood for visitors. He swung open the door, ready to give the daring person an earful, he saw his beloved brother. All anger plummeted in an instant. Jaime nearly smirked at the subtle sways in his brother's gait, he was drunk. Lord Stark had provided his best Dornish reds for the occasion of his old friend's visit.

"Tyrion," Jaime humored as he furrowed a brow.

"Good morning, brother." Tyrion smiled in return, he teetered one way, then another. He squinted out the window in Jaime's quarters. "Not quite morning." He said in realization more to himself.

"Hardly," Jaime shook his head. "Did you get lost on your way to your room, dear little brother?"

"One would be inclined to think so," Tyrion said somberly despite his drunken state. "But no, I was merely making a stop before I continue on my way to the Winter Town brothel."

Jaime hid a look of disgust, "Have you not had enough of these northern whores?"

Tyrion pierced him with a knowing look, "You sound just like our dear sister." He feigned a smile. "She says it embarrasses her."

Jaime sighed, "Is she wrong to think so?"

"As much as I would love to continue discussing our lovely sister, she is not why I am here." Tyrion seemed to sober up for a moment's time.

"Then why are you here, little brother?"

"You've been in a terrible mood since supper, why?"

Jaime stiffened for a moment, relaxed quickly, though his mood was once again dark. "Is it so terrible of me to be angry while our sister has to watch her drunken husband groping and kissing women right in front of her? He continues to disgrace her for everyone to see without a care. How do you think she feels, or her children?"

Tyrion nodded thoughtfully, "I'd think you would both be happy."

Jaime's wildfire green eyes glittered, "You are harmfully drunk."

"Do you think of me as blind, or oblivious?" Tyrion quietly chuckled. "I see everything, I know many things. With our good king so drunk there is very little chance of our sister having a visitor in the night. I know that would delight you both."

Jaime tensed, glared at his brother. "You should really go to sleep, Tyrion, you are beginning to speak nonsense."

"Nonsense? That is one way of looking at the situation I suppose." He stared at his brother. "I may not care for our sister wholeheartedly, but I do care about you. So, tell me, why were you in such a sullen mood? You went into the kitchen fine, but you came back tense and rigid as if you'd seen a ghost."

"Maybe I did," Jaime said quietly, crudely. "I was simply righting a mistake that should have been taken care of years ago."

"And did you right it?"

Jaime stared hard at his brother for a very long moment. "For the time being," He said airily.

"And if it takes rise again?"

Jaime sighed deeply; a flicker of emotion in his eyes told Tyrion everything that his words did not. Jaime rested a hand on his blade, "If comes down to it I will take care of it the difficult way."

Tyrion nodded, something deep inside told him his brother needed him more tonight then the Winter Town whores. He walked past his brother into the room, Jaime merely watched him with a curious gaze, and Tyrion settled himself on a chair, deftly poured two goblets of wine.

"What are you doing?" Jaime questioned him.

Tyrion fought to roll his eyes, "I changed my mind, and I think I'd prefer your company over the whores in the brothel. Unless, I am unwelcomed in your chambers tonight and there is someone of greater importance you need to see?"

Jaime smirked, but his gaze with warm with affection. "You are always welcomed."

"Good, close the door and come sit!" Tyrion said merrily as he set down a goblet for the kingslayer. "Drink, we will get drunk tonight."

"Aren't you already drunk?" Jaime teased him.

"Ignore that, drink!" Tyrion dismissed him quickly, he raised his goblet.

Jaime sighed and humored his brother, "What are we drinking to?"

"Righting the mistakes of the past!" Tyrion declared and Jaime stiffened a moment

"To righting the mistakes of the past," Jaime murmured as he toasted with his brother. Maybe drinking himself into oblivion wasn't such a bad proposition after all, behind these doors, with Tyrion; there was no one safer to drink with. His brother would carry his secrets with him to the grave. He was the only person in the world he truly trusted with his deepest thoughts and darkest secrets.


A week had passed; Dany had kept herself hidden away for most part. Fear still gripped her heart. She wasn't brave like Jon and Robb, though she would endure, it was after all, the thing she did best. The days had slipped by faster than she would have thought possible.

Dany settled into the farthest corner of the library, she'd nearly read all the books that contained the history of Targaryen dynasty, the stories of Aegon the Conqueror, the conquest of Dorne, the fall of her family. She had reread the books over and over until every minute detail had been ingrained into her mind.

A pair of green eyes watched her with intrigued interest, watched as Dany tilted her head against the window, brows furrowed, staring at the same page for the last few moments. She seemed faraway, or wished to be far away, she shifted, rested her chin on her hand, toyed with a curl of black and looked out the window.

A voice quietly cleared itself. "I did not realize someone else enjoyed reading as much as I did." It took Dany only a moment to register the young girl, and she immediately levelled the girl with a startled, almost wild stare.

Myrcella's lips parted quickly, green eyes wide with dismay. "I meant no intrusion!" The summer princess said quickly, Dany paused gauging her. "I'm sorry, I assure you I am not here to bother anyone, I only wished to return a few books." She gestured to the three large books, nearly falling apart at the bindings, she held protectively in her arms.

Daenerys's purple gaze was fixated on her as if she were an enemy. Dany's distrust of her was plain as a bluebird day. Myrcella's eyes softened sadly, but to her excitement Dany remained unmoving. The princess smiled, she returned the books to their rightful places, began her search for a new read, she was far too curious of the beautiful girl with unusual amethyst eyes, maybe she could make a friend of someone in the north after all.

Myrcella settled on a large book that contained myths and legends of the north, she strode towards a table that Dany sat at. Myrcella lacked no shyness in her advances. The princess frowned when she noticed the Targaryen stiffened. Disheartened at Dany's blatant rejection of her, Myrcella began to read. She read in quiet for a few moments, flipping through pages of stories of the long night, she may be her mother and father's daughter, but she had her uncle Tyrion's mind and curiosity, or so her uncle Jaime had told her repeatedly.

Myrcella could not contain herself in the silence. She offered the dragon a genuine smile, "I'm Myrcella…"

"I know," Dany said quickly. Myrcella fell quiet, her smile faltered until it fell away altogether. Dany stared at the summer princess who appeared more lioness than stag, complete with a golden spun crown, glittering emerald eyes, and a crimson gown, Lannister red. The color of blood was not one you easily forget.

Dany returned to reading her book, but felt the princess's feline gaze burn into her with curiosity and sadness. Purple eyes locked with green, Jaime Lannister's green eyes, the thought alone set her blood a boil, struck her heart with palpations of fear at the mere thought of him. "Is there something you wish to say to me?" Myrcella opened her mouth and closed it as quickly. Dany sighed, she closed the hefty book. "If you have nothing to say I would appreciate it if you left me in peace."

"I'm sorry," Myrcella quickly said in her soft voice, and even softer gaze.

Myrcella was taken back when Dany did little to hide her contempt at the sight of her; all the lords and ladies who lacked fondness for her family did more to hide their dislike behind smiles and mannerisms that were far to forced. Yet, here was this unknown woman, who she could only imagine to be a maid staring at her with open hostility. Whereas her brother Joffrey would rage at her audacity, it only further to heighten Myrcella's curiosity.

The contempt faded gradually, and a cool tolerance took its place as Dany sat back, "There is no need for you to apologize."

Myrcella formed a tiny smile when Dany did not leave, "Have you lived in the north long? You do not appear to be of the north, more of the south."

"I grew up in Essos, I was brought here by a slave." Dany adapted easily, though her heart thrummed wildly like a hummingbird in her chest.

Myrcella's gaze grew piteous, "And Lord Stark purchased you as a slave?"

"He bought from my captor and gave me my freedom."

"Lord Stark is a good man." Myrcella nodded slowly as a silence began to overtake them, "Do you like to read?"

Dany sighed softly, she was persistent. "Yes I do, and I like to learn the history of Westeros."

Myrcella smiled kindly, "I like to read as well, stories of adventures like those of Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen. The world does not simply allow women to decide who they are going to be, even if you are a noblewoman, or a princess."

Her words hit hard, a stronger blow than Dany could have imagined. And suddenly it hurt to speak, so she forced herself to nod. Dany whispered a moment later, "A woman is always looked down on by the world for not having a cock between her legs when she is born."

Myrcella fell silent; she seemed to share her sentiments. They both heard a voice outside the library, further down the hall. "Myrcella, Myrcella where are you?" It was Cersei Baratheon.

"I must be going," Dany quickly stood and put the book back onto the shelf. Myrcella stood promptly, hands joined against the skirts of her own.

"It's only mother," Myrcella said kindly. "She means you no harm."

Dany looked at her, her lips parted then closed, tugging into a curve just shy of a smile. "I don't believe your mother would be very fond of her daughter spending time with a simple maid."

"You are more than a simple maid," Myrcella spoke softly. "You are the only person who has shown me genuine kindness. I see it in the Stark children's eyes; they are not particularly fond of me."

"That's not true," Dany said before she could stop herself. "Bran, Arya, and Rickon think of you as very kind. They will open up to you more."

Myrcella smiled gratefully at her, "It's been weeks since our arrival, I do not think they will warm up to me now."

"Myrcella!" Cersei called again, closer this time.

Dany looked at her sympathetically before she took her leave. Myrcella sighed in dismay as she sat down in the chair again. The queen rounded the corner in all her icy beauty; the sight of her daughter instantly melted all her coldness. Of her three children, she knew she must not pick favorites; her daughter was her treasure, her only daughter. She was wrapped in her luxurious furs.

"There you are my darling," Cersei cooed to her, a sweet smile on her lips. "What are you doing hiding away in this dusty old library." She chided gently. "And where are your furs, Cella?"

"I'm sorry, mother." Myrcella stood, beamed at her mother, she dearly loved her mother. "I was looking for a bit of light reading."

Cersei touched her cheek; her own green eyes stared back at her. "Come my sweet, the afternoon meal is being served."

"Mother, when will we be returning home?" Myrcella asked quietly, Cersei frowned.

"Why?" Cersei's tone was immediately intense; she gazed sternly down at her daughter. She had always been stern, never cruel with her children, especially her only daughter. "Has some treated you improperly, Myrcella?" She was fierce in her love for her children, her protectiveness equally as fierce. Even though her children were grown she still thought of them as little lions without claws, cubs that didn't know how to roar, vulnerable little creatures who still required their mother to defend them.

Myrcella had allowed it, allowed her mother to fuss over her, it was her mother's strange form of affection for them. Her strange sort of happiness the sort she only knew and when it came to her children, it was her entire world. Compared to her father's borderline ignorance of her existence she relished in her mother's forms of affections and attention. One thing was certain, one thing Myrcella had learned quickly since she was a child, she never feared her mother's devastating anger; her mother's ire would never be known to her children, only other people.

"No mother, everyone has been very kind." Myrcella smiled sweetly. "I was merely becoming homesick."

"Not to worry my little dove," Cersei pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We will return home soon."

Myrcella smiled and followed her mother out of the library, she had friends back at the Red Keep, and she missed the warmth, the sunshine, and her flimsy pieces of silks of gowns. She missed home.


Dany sat in front of her mirror, brushing her inky black hair; she gave her reflection a withering look. Lady Stark had had it dyed nearly twice now in the weeks passing, her silver hair to stubborn to remain hidden. Her mind continued to be haunted by pairs of glittering green eyes, whether it was the hot-tempered, oathbreaker, Jaime Lannister, the lioness of House Lannister, Cersei Baratheon, or her lion cub, Myrcella Baratheon. Whenever she closed her eyes they would stare back at her, unrelentingly.

Only a week remained and the lions and stags would be gone. She welcomed the thought with a burst of hope that glimmered weakly from deep inside her. But, regardless of whatever happened, she would be a dragon of House Targaryen.

Seeing herself in the mirror reminded her she did not know what her parents looked like. Did she resemble her mother, who she was told by Lord Stark was always mindful of her duties, or perhaps she would take after her mad father, the thought made her cold. Her eyes would have burned with tears, but the strength of being blood of the dragon ran through her veins.

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," She told her reflection. "I can be brave." Her reflection did not respond, only showed the reality of the scared little girl in a cold room.

It had become late when Dany took to her bed, her dragons nestled into abdomen, and she had just removed them from the roaring hearth. The flames didn't sting as much, barely singed her skin when she reached from them. Her finger pads were still hot and soft from the searing blaze. Her room was hot and thick, but yet cold chills ran up and down her spine. Her fingers ran over the jet black egg alive with scarlet ripples, imagined a dragon deep within the shell, twisting and churning seeking her touch.

Her eyes grew heavy with sleep as she continued to touch the heated dragon eggs. Everything was soft and hazy, mind awake, but yet deep asleep to the world around her. She was back in the red palace, a throne before her made of a thousand swords melted together. A soft tune filled the air with a melancholy atmosphere. A man stood with his back to her, he plucked with long, elegant fingers, proficiently at the strings of a silver harp. Long silver-gold Targaryen locks cascaded down his back; he wore night-black armor with golden ring mail.

Dany again was dressed in a silver gown, a thick necklace around her neck with three-headed dragon. Silk wisps hung from her arms. It was snowing again, not the vibrant while flakes of Winterfell, these were dark gray and black flecks, warm, and smelt burnt. Ash. It began to cover the floor and the man continued to play the harp unheeding to it all.

"Hello?" Dany tried to strengthen her voice. "Can you hear me?"

The man stopped playing, Dany faltered. She had not forgotten the dreams of her father. The man turned, silver-gold swaying around him as if he were the purest of beings. Indigo eyes burned into her. There was a three-headed dragon of House Targaryen decorated in rubies on his breastplate. He looked like Viserys, but he was handsomer, taller, and his melancholic eyes shone with kindness.

"Welcome, Daenerys." His voice was musical, sweeter than the harp he had been playing a moment ago.

"Rhaegar," Dany whispered, his smile widened as he nodded. Her eyes grew dewy, the corners of his smile began to fall away, his head tilted, staring curiously at the tears that began to wet her eyes.

"Why do you weep my little dragon?" His voice would be her undoing.

"I need you alive," Daenerys whimpered. Rhaegar's gaze softened considerably. A pale hand reached out to catch a stray tear. "I have no family, everyone is gone, and Viserys, he…"

"I know everything that has happened, sweet sister." Rhaegar was kind. "He is my father's son, just so. But you, you are strong."

"I'm not strong," Dany openly wept. "I'm not you Rhaegar; I don't know what to do. I have no strength, no power, no one to fight for me."

Rhaegar touched her cheek; his touch was warm, like fire burning beneath the skin. "You are the last dragon. You will have strength, you will have power, the dragon has three heads, and three are all you need to deliver your enemies fire and blood."

"Rhaegar," Dany whispered, he held out his hands, three dragons lay in them. Her black, cream, and gold, her lips parted as she immediately reached out for them, "My dragon eggs."

"You will find no greater power than them," Rhaegar assured her.

"They're petrified," Dany looked at him in confusion in her warm, purple gaze.

"There is life in them still," Rhaegar promised her. He placed the eggs into her arms, smoke rose from them; they shook and trembled as if life deep inside them was eager to break free. "You are nearly home."

"Can I not remain in the north with the Starks?" Dany looked at him desperately.

"You have a greater destiny, Daenerys Stormborn." Rhaegar was vigilant of her. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, the prince that was promised shall be born amidst salt and smoke."

He leaned away as Dany looked at him, "What is this prince supposed to do?"

Rhaegar smiled at her sadly as he began to play the harp again, the melody was melancholy, heart-wrenching, left her to weep. "Deliver the world from darkness." His voice drifted, he faded from her vision.

Everything was dark, in the depths of the darkness, eyes red as blood, bright as molten pits, piercing as a greatsword stared her down. Behind it a large form shifted, its shape lit with accents of crimson red, Lannister red.

"Remember who you are," It hissed as dark gray smoke billowed from its nostrils. It rose up serpent like. It charged forward, leathery wings burst open sending a wave of heat blasting towards her until she nearly fell away under its torrent. The heat alone burned at her skin, she cried out. Its mouth opened; there was a red glow deep down its black throat. Dany turned and tried to run, in front of her were two more large forms, one white with touches of gold, another golden with pink membranes of its wings.

"Remember…" The white one hissed at her, pale smoke fell from its open mouth, rows of black dagger like teeth gleamed.

"Remember who you are!" The golden one roared at her, she turned to run, only to find the large black form looming over her.

In the silence, their mouths fell open as a sea of fire shot out in streams of pale gold, black and red, and orange and yellow. Daenerys screamed.

Dany shot up in bed drenched in a hot sweat, the hearth had long since died only charred wood remained behind. She looked down at her dragon eggs, undisturbed, hesitantly she touched them, and they were cool to the touch.

'It not me,' Daenerys thought. 'I'm not a prince.' She was not the promised one to rescue the world from darkness, a girl had no place in a battle.

Cold sweat still clung to her skin, sleep wound not return. Terror was heavy in her stomach, gnawing at her like hunger pains. Dany quickly got out of bed, threw on Jon's cloak clumsily, slipped on her fur-lined boots and made her way to the only place she truly felt safe, Jon's bedchambers.

She quickly made her way through the halls with a weakly lit torch, she paused at his door, and he had told her he would only allow it once, there would be no second time, it was improper. Dany quelled the thrumming in her heart, she put out the torch, turned the door, a small smile lit her lips, and of course he'd forgotten to lock it.

Jon was asleep when she entered, quietly shutting the door behind her. His room was cold, but he remained unaffected by it. Ghost lay on his bed at his feet, he was biggest of his littermates, but Jon was still more than willing to share with the beautiful beast. His red eyes made her freeze a moment, but she quickly relaxed when his tail flicked once, then twice with welcome. Dany sat down and rubbed his white belly for a moment before glancing at Jon still deep in slumber. She removed the cloak, let it pool to the floor. Dany went around the bed and climbed beneath the luxurious furs and settled against him, Jon stirred, but didn't wake.

His face was soft, relaxed in sleep. He could not hide behind his somber, brooding expressions to hide his vulnerabilities and insecurities. Her fingers ran along the length of his chest, he hummed in his sleep, her purple eyes warmed. Dany leaned forward, hovering over him, her breasts flesh against his clothed chest. She gazed down at him at their close proximity as their breaths mingled. Her eyes closed, she pressed her lips against his in a sweet kiss meant to warm them both. That stirred Jon awake.

Grey eyes opened, half-lidded in confusion, but they immediately warmed at the sight of her, he cast her his signature barely there smile, and Dany felt a dampness grow between her legs.

"Dany," His voice was rasped, thick with sleep. "What are you doing here? Is it morning?"

Dany smiled softly, "Would you rather I not be here?"

"I want you here," Jon sighed sleepily. He wrapped an arm around her waist, drew her closer to him until her breasts strained against her sleeping gown into the side of his chest. She buried her face into the hollow of his neck, breathed him in. This was home, he was her home. Sleep had begun to retake him when he felt a warm wetness against his neck. "Dany, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dany whispered, kissed his throat. "Everything is fine now."

"Are you sure?" He whispered to her.

"I promise." Dany nestled deeper against him, until sleep took them both.

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End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please review if you'd like an update, there are so many scenes I really want to write, but the pacing is killing me ha ha!