Hello again! So I finished this chapter sooner than I thought. I hope you all like it!

The wind blows the scent of the sea through the windows of the War Room. Only the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below fill the room as he stares out at the horizon. Rhaegal and Viserion cry out to him, begging him to go and join their mother. But he can't. His heart demands he climb onto his dragon and fly west to the Reach but his mind knows he must stay with the armies and ships and wait for Daenerys to return.

And the wait is killing him.

Just like before, Euron Greyjoy's fleet was awaiting them on the seas. It was dark so he understood why Yara's fleet was ambushed the first time. But the dragons gave them enough warning and they managed to destroy most of the fleet, unfortunately, Euron managed to escape.

Upon their arrival at Dorne, however, a raven sent by Bran from the Wall awaited them. It warned them about the Lannister army marching to the Reach and the betrayal of the Tarly's. Bran suggested Daenerys fly to the Reach to help the Dothraki while he would escort the Dornish back to Dragonstone.

He argued against it, not wanting to leave her side, especially when he saw her hesitation when attacking the Greyjoy fleet, but she wouldn't hear it. She trusted Bran and wanted to follow his suggestion. And so, with only a kiss goodbye, she flew away on Drogon.

Now he waits, brooding in the room where his namesake planned the conquest of Westeros with his wives. He wonders how many men, how many kings, stood here like him lost in his thoughts.

Did his father once stand here like him?

The bit of information that Dany told him about Rhaegar revealed that he was more like his sire than he ever imagined. Rhaegar would brood lost and sad in his thoughts for hours and although he was an amazing fighter, he hated it. He also liked to sing and give to the poor. He himself wasn't one for singing but he could imagine himself doing so for Dany or possibly even a child if they ever have one. Overall, he discovered that his father had been a good man, he made mistakes, mistakes that caused the realm to bleed but who was he to judge? He himself had made some horrible mistakes the greatest which led him to come back in time to attempt to fix it.

The door of the chamber opens and he's surprised to see Theon meekly walk in.

"Y…your Gr… Grace," he stutters out with a bow. "I was wondering if I could possibly have a word with you?"

Theon. He remembers the rage he had towards this man when he saw him in his past life, how the only thing that had stopped him from killing him was the fact that he had saved Sansa from Ramsay Bolton. But now he has no anger toward him, not that Theon knows that. Theon had given his life to protect Bran in his past life and redeemed himself. But in truth he understands Theon more than anyone, what it felt like to be divided between your two families, having to choose and the consequences of those choices.

He gives the man he grew up with a small nod and Theon walks closer, stopping a short distance from him.

"Jon… Aegon…" Theon starts but seems to be unable to even look at him in the eye.

"Theon," he says making the man look at him. "Thank you for saving Sansa, I know I owe you her safety and her life and I thank you for that."

But the man can't even take that small amount of gratitude.

"No… don't thank me. I don't deserve your thanks, I don't deserve anything, not after what I did to Robb, what I did to Bran and Rickon," he chokes.

"Aye, you betrayed them. But you paid for it and from what Sansa told me, your price was steep," he says and Theon flinches. "But now you have a chance to redeem yourself. You serve a new Queen and will have an opportunity to help the North," he sees Theon shaking his head and decides to reveal something no one other than Daenerys knows. "You'll be able to apologize to Bran."

Theon's head bolts up and he can see a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but a lot of fear.

"Bran?"

"He's alive, you're the only one that knows this besides the Queen. He's on his way back to Winterfell," he explains and he sees a small smile form on Theon's face before he shuts down again.

"Why?" Theon asks.

"Why what?"

"I was horrible to you growing up, I betrayed Robb, I took Winterfell, why are you giving me this reassurance, this hope?" the once proud Greyjoy asks.

"Because I know what it's like having to choose between your two families," he admits and Theon has a look of understanding. "The Greyjoy in you told you to do something while the Stark told you to do something else."

"I'm not a Stark," Theon says. And he can't help but give the man a sad smile.

"Nor am I. Yet we were both raised as Starks. Ned Stark was the Father neither of us had and he raised us as Starks. We may not carry his name but we carry his teachings, his legacy. And believe me, Theon you can be both. You can be both a Greyjoy and a Stark," he says.

"And you're a Stark and a Targaryen," Theon points out.

"At least I'm trying to be," he admits. Theon nods, not saying anything else. "I know its hard, to find that balance but it's the only way we're going to be happy Theon."

"How are you handling it? Finding that balance?" Greyjoy asks.

"I know how to be a Stark, I'm still learning how to be a Targaryen and Daenerys is helping me be one," he admits.

"I guess I have to do the same, I'll need Yara to teach me how to be more Greyjoy," Theon agrees. "And you and the queen?" Theon asks, surprising him. And for a second he sees a flash of that boy he grew up with who would tease him to no end.

"I guess I'm more Targaryen than I thought," he answers with a smile, but the reminder of Daenerys causes him to go serious again.

"You're worried about her," Theon states, not even bothering with a question.

"I am. All it would take is a well-placed arrow or a sudden movement from Drogon and…" he shakes his head trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

"There's a reason Yara chose her as our queen. She's a fighter, she's strong, I'm sure she'll be fine," Theon tries to reassure him, and he attempts to agree with him with a nod.

I can't lose her again.

A roar is heard and both he and Theon quickly move towards the window and they see Drogon flying around the castle. He feels a smile form on his face as he catches sight of Dany on her dragon's back.

"Go to her," he hears Theon's voice and he turns his head to look at him. Theon has a soft smile on his face and after giving him a nod, he heads out of the War Room.

"Lord Snow!" he hears a voice call out and his anger spikes. He takes a deep breath before turning to face the Lannister. "I see you've come out of the War Room."

"Aye, I have. But I'm on my way out to greet the Queen," he tries to excuse himself but the Lord Hand won't let him.

"About that. I have been meaning to talk to you about the Queen. Would you care to step into my quarters where we could speak?" Tyrion asks, gesturing towards his opened door.

"I'm sure it can wait, Lord Tyrion. I really should go," he tries to argue but the dwarf shakes his head.

"It's rather important. I would have spoken to you about it while she was gone but you seem to have been avoiding me," Tyrion says and he can't exactly deny the fact that he's been doing exactly that. "Please and then I won't bug you or her about this matter."

He sighs in frustration before walking into the room.

"Please say what you want before I change my mind and leave Lord Tyrion," he says before the small man can even finish closing the door.

"Very well then. I'm not fully convinced of your Targaryen heritage but her Grace is," the dwarf says walking towards the wine. "But assuming you are a Targaryen, that makes you the last Targaryen male, the last one left to carry the line," he explains pouring himself the wine and drinking it all at once.

He can't possibly be considering…

"Her Grace is barren. A marriage between you and a Lord's daughter would be beneficial to her cause. It would secure an ally and produce an heir," Tyrion states as if he's the most clever man in the world for coming up with that idea.

His blood boils.

"And what about her Grace?" he says trying to keep the fire within under control.

"Married to a Lord, one who would accept not having a child and who would give us a greater alliance," the Lion says casually.

"No Lord Tyrion, I meant what about what the Queen wants? What about her happiness?" he practically growls out. His tone must have surprised the Lord given the way he nearly jumps but he is quick to recover and answer.

"A Queen must do what's best for the people, her happiness, her own wants come much after."

"They shouldn't have to," the Lord looks at him as if he's speaking in Dothraki. "She needs to be happy at the end of all this."

"The throne will make her happy its what she's always wanted more than anything," Tyrion says, taking another gulp of wine.

No, it's not.

"Are you sure about that?" he needs to ask.

"Of course, I am. Just because you've been inseparable since your arrival, don't presume to know her more than me, I am her Hand," Tyrion says taking another drink.

He's had enough. He walks out of the room, slamming the door closed with as much force as he can muster. He takes a few deep breaths, trying his best to calm down when he feels someone looking at him. He turns his head and there standing at her door is his Queen, his love.

Only a second passes before he marches to her and takes her into his arms. He feels like air finally reaches his lungs and he's able to breathe for the first time since they separated. His heart is pounding and he takes a quick look at her making sure she's alright. She gives him a soft smile confirming she's fine and before either of them can say anything, their lips find each other desperately trying to make up for their time of absence. He's pushing her up against her door and he's not sure which one of them actually manages to open the door before they stumble into her room. He's also not sure which of them begins to undo the other's clothing first but when they separate for air, a moment of clarity happens.

They're both breathless, the laces of their clothes undone and their hair in disarray, but they can only stare into each other's eyes.

He can see the desire in her eyes, passion, and need. But underneath it all there is some fear and before he can let this continue he needs that to go away. He lifts a hand placing it upon her cheek and she leans into his touch.

"Are you sure? Are you truly ready?" he asks, holding his own desires at bay. She kisses the palm of his hand and guides it to the laces of her dress.

"I am."

He smiles and she does as well. Everything slows down compared with before. As he leans in to kiss her it's no longer frenzied or desperate instead he focuses on pouring all his love every kiss he gives and accepting all the love she's sending back. Their clothes slowly fall to the ground, their haste gone and replaced with the need to commit every moment that is about to occur to memory. He picks her up carries her to her bed, gently depositing her on it before moving above her.

This is more than just need, more than just lust. This is their final step in healing, of accepting. They're finally ready to move forward, to love each other unconditionally and without their past mistakes hovering over them constantly. They're ready to be one again and become a true family.

"I love you," he whispers to her, afraid that any louder and the spell may be broken.

"I love you, too," she whispers.

Leaning in, their lips meet.