AN: Thank you for all the reviews to the last chapter, I loved hearing your thoughts!

Sorry this took me a minute but I really don't like how this part was handled in the show AKA the writers keep making Dany say she's gonna burn cities, how many times do they have to use the same friggin line to show the brink she stands on? So I'm changing it, but even though I knew how I wanted it to go I was still stuck for some reason. So yea this was a hard one to write, hope it works tho.

I own nothing.


Twelve: Promises

King in the North

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Of all the things he could have said to her, he compares her to the monsters she's spent the better part of a decade overthrowing. He asks for her help but then insults her . . . Real smart, Jon.

She's right, I've never seen slavery, never experienced it, to say what I did was like erasing all she's worked for. She may be a conqueror but it was masters she had conquered, not innocent people. She's even refused to sack Kings Landing because that is all who would be hurt: the people.

Even though Jon regrets the master comment, it doesn't change the fact that he will not bend to this woman just because she feels she's entitled. He may have went too far but he won't back down either. He can't, not with what is coming for them all.

There has to be a way to find common ground!

He knows he needs to say something, apologize, but he can't force the words from his lips, feeling too self conscious after his misplaced judgement.

Probably best to let her cool down anyways.

Once they reach the shore they're greeted by the sight of three flying dragons, playing over the open water.

Jon stops cold in his tracks, in awe of the sight. For such large imposing beasts they have a tendency to disappear then sneak up upon you. He's brought from his trance as Ser Davos walks to his side, also realizing that Daenerys has strided away and he can see she's already reached the stairs that lead to the castle, Missandei diligently by her side.

"Now that is a bloody terrifying sight," Davos remarks, staring at the mystic beasts.

"Aye, it is. Amazing too."

Davos nods.

"Word around the Castle is Her Grace stepped into a fire with three stone eggs and emerged unburnt with three baby dragons."

Jons eyes go unfocused watching Daenerys's children as he chews on what his friend just told him.

Honestly it's not too hard to believe . . . That woman in fire personified. Can warm you with the just being in her presence but if you step too close she'll consume you whole.

Jons eyes focus again as one of the dragons, the biggest one, a black beast with red undertones, swoops into the water and remerges with what looks to be a seal in his jaw. He and his brothers fight over the poor creature, ripping him apart and eating the pieces whole. The sight unsettles him but he can't look away either. Part of Jon never wants to look away, afraid if he does they'll have just been a figment of his imagination. And to see dragons, the most fearsome creatures to have ever existed, creatures the world thought they'd never see again, and not savor them? would be a crime.

That being said there's another part of him that wants to be as far away from them as possible in case they're still hungry. Their mother seems to have a pretty good handle on them, but they're still Dragons for the Gods sake.

If only Arya we're here to see this.

A stab of pain, even more agonizing than the real ones he took to his body, sears through Jons heart as he thinks of his sister, his favorite sibling.

She was just a child, as strong as she may have been, she was so young and now she's lost. To me, to the world.

Jon turns from the Dragons, now thinking it unfair he look upon them when his sister can't, crime or no.

Gods, she had loved the tales of Dragons and their riders. Her favorite had been Visneya who rode Vhagar. Half of the words that left her mouth were about Visneya, 'the greatest famale warrior the world has ever seen.'

Jon looks to Daenerys retreating figure, barely visible to him anymore and he thinks how much Arya would have liked The Dragon Queen.

"So," Davos whispers still transfixed, "how did it go?"

Jon sighs, not looking forward to relying how he fucked everything up.

"She believes, I saw it in her eyes, but . . . "

"—But she demanded you bend the knee and you refused?" Davos asks without actually asking.

Jon nods and a terrible silence settles over them until he can't take it anymore.

"Should I have? Bent the knee, I mean."

Davos rocks on his toes and chews on his bottom lip, thinking over his Kings words.

"Have your considered you both could get what you want?"

Jon looks to the old smuggler suspicious. What avenue could possibly lead them to have what they both want?

"I'm not following you."

Davos looks to Jon as if he were talking to a child, which he may as well be.

"Come now, Jon, you're a King. A King to a very powerful nation, The North, with the backing of another powerful territory, The Vale. Daenerys is a Queen . . . Well, we've already heard her titles—"

"— Davos what are you getting at?"

"You know what I'm getting at Jon. Marriage. If you — a King, and her — a Queen, won't bend to one another than the safest way to form an alliance would be to marry."

Jon, the humble bastard he is, finds himself in shock.

Marriage? Between me and Daenerys Targaryen? How would that be happen? How in the Seven Hells is it possible that I've spent my entire life practically hidden away, unwanted and mocked, only to end up discussing the possibility of marrying one of the most powerful women, hell person in general, this world has seen since her own ancestor Aegon the Conqueror was alive?

Not to mention the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

He loved another once, but even she didn't set his heart into the flurry this Dragon mother does. Jon has thought on it long and hard, trying to figure out how this could be possible. His time with Ygritte was some of the best of his life and he knows he truly did love her but even the memory of falling for her, making love to her and losing her does not compare to the thought of falling for Daenerys, something Jon fears he does more and more of each day. It's pales in comparison to mere fantasies that have dominated his mind of what it would be like to lie with Daenerys, and the thought of losing her . . . Jon can't even think it, it being the most confusing feelings of them all.

Madness, utter madness.

But then another scary thought hits him.

Assuming they defeat the Night King and his army and she wins against Cersei . . . A union between them would make him King to her Queen of the Iron Throne.

Or would it be King Consort? Either way it's a mighty station a bastard, even the bastard of Eddard Stark, like me has no business ever dreaming of.

And a position Jon doesn't want.

He wants nothing to do with that damned chair, the reason for his fathers demise.

He just wants the North to be safe, his family to be happy and his people to prosper.

And her — He thinks desperately.

Gods, you really are touched! No matter your silly infatuation, she's not meant for you. You may be a king, but you're still a bastard.

Tyrion words echo in his mind.

"Never forget what you are." It's not the way he meant them at the time, but it's still wise counsel.

"I am a bastard, Davos," Jon sighs, "King or no, Queen Daenerys will not end up married to a Snow, or a River, or a Sand."

She'll be Queen, Jon has no doubt. But it won't be for long if she doesn't see reason and join with me in fighting the true enemy. And it certainly won't be with a bastard as her husband.

Either way I'll be in the North, where I belong — fighting the Great War, with or without her.

Davos opens his mouth to say something, undoubtedly to ask Jon to reconsider the idea, but instead they're both taken off guard as an uproar begins — coming from the Dothraki Soliders, thousands of them, storming the once quite beach.

"What they bloody hell is going on?"

Jon watches as most of them begin collecting transport boats obviously to be used to board the ships coming from around a bend in the ever present Stone cliffs. The rest are herding horses, obviously waiting to board as well.

"Something not good." Jon says distractedly watching the scene unfold in front of him.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Daenerys stride out of the castle to make the long trek of stairs. He can't make out anything specific about her but he knows it's her and he knows she's in a hurry.

He begins making his way through the overly excited Dothraki screamers to her, determined to seek answers.

Mother of Dragons

Dany takes a few deep breathes as she slides on her sturdiest gloves, preparing herself for what is to come.

When she'd left Jon Snow standing on the beach, she'd been determined to storm her castle in search for her advisors to go over their game plan again. Anything to shift focus from what had just transpired in that damned cave.

She couldn't believe he'd — you know what? It doesn't matter. His opinion of you doesn't matter. You know what happened. You know you're not like the masters. That will just have to be enough. Still, the knowledge that Jon Snow thinks so lowly of her stings. Badly.

To not even mention the army of the dead . . .

It wasn't long before she encountered her Council but before she could say a word, she'd known something was terribly wrong by the looks on their faces.

And terribly wrong it is.

The Unsullied took Casterly Rock, no problem. No problem because the Lannister forces hadn't been there. No, instead they had already marched on Highgarden.

House Tyrell is no more and I'm losing the war.

Failure is not foreign to her, but failure on this grand of scale? This is something she's never experienced. It sets her blood boiling as much as it humbles her.

But she won't continue to fail for long, she promises herself, making sure her outfit is secure in every way.

"Your grace?"

Dany turns to see Missandei standing before her wringing her hands. She immediately strides to her friend and envelops the taller woman in a tight hug.

"Don't fear for me, Missandei," she whispers into her curly hair.

"Whom should I fear for then?"

Dany moves back slightly so that they can look into each others eyes.

"My enemies."

"I think I shall pray they have quick deaths, but that they die, the opposite of fearing for them, I'm afraid."

Dany smiles at the showing of Missandeis heart; gentle and fierce at the same time.

Dany disengages from her and moves quickly to the drawer by her bedside and comes out with a present for her closest friend, a gift Dany has been working on for while.

"I've never taken stock in gods, saw no use for them, but even I have thanked them as often as it occurs to me to do so, that you are by my side, Missandei, my sister."

A pure white pearl necklace dangles between Danys hands for Missandei to see, to which her eyes widen and begin to tear up.

Viserys may have been stupid and cruel, but she thanks him now for his stories of Dragonstones, her birthplace and the place he'd been crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms at the tender age of five after they'd been informed their brother had been defeated, his children murdered and their father betrayed. He'd told her of the oysters and their pearls, and she finds a small bit of joy that he's done her and now Missandei, this gentle deed.

"This necklace," Dany says, hooking it to Missandeis elegant neck while she does so, "is a promise to you. I vow before you now, that life will not always be this way. You'll not always be subjected to war and danger. One day, you'll be truly free."

Missandei touches the gift gently, tears falling from her eyes.

"My queen," she whispers, "its beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Dany smiles, her own eyes tearing up.

"I'm glad you like it."

"I do, but I have nothing for you," She cries.

Dany shakes her head and smiles gently.

"It is not you that subjects me to war, Missandei."

Missandei hugs her Queen, tighter than even before.

"I will cherish it for all of my life, and as for your vow, I thank you for it, but I'm exactly where I want to be. I am already free, I have been since the moment I first stood by your side. And I vow to you, I'll never leave your side."

They squeeze each other tighter and say no more.

There's no need.


Dany revels in the wind that whips her long, but secure braid behind her as she stands upon her favorite cliff and looks down to her men preparing for battle.

If she's being honest with herself this couldn't have happened at a better time, the Dothraki have become restless, even more so than herself, and the chance to ride and kill has uplifted their spirits greatly.

Well some of them. She's only taking five thousand compared to the sixty that ride at her back.

Those that aren't coming, decided upon by the five personal men she has at her back at all times — her chosen commanders, the blood of her blood — are less than pleased. It'll take a lot more than common promises of war to come to sooth their anger at being left behind and she does not look forward to their ire

"Your grace!"

Gods, this infuriating man is everywhere. A moment of peace before I have to shed blood was all I wanted, not another fight before I charge into battle.

"Yes, Jon Snow?" She says, clearly annoyed.

"What's happening? Why are the Dothraki boarding ships?"

She turns to the handsome Northerner, currently looking like the world is going to end.

"I fail to see how what my men do is any concern of yours."

Jons eyes tighten, unable to argue but still wanting to know what's going on.

"I'm sorry if I've offended, your grace, it's just . . ."

Dany watches as he stumbles for something to say, some way to convince her to trust him with the knowledge he wants to know.

She tells herself she's only taking pity on the King in the North, but she knows she decides to tell him what happened because she likes talking to him, even after the words shared in the cave.

"I've lost house Tyrell. Cersei saw our next step, even before we did, and marched her army away from her ancestral seat and while I was seizing a worthless rock she ended House Tyrell and therefore my last ally."

Jon looks from her to the Dothraki fear stricken.

"And now you're marching on the Capital? On Kings Landing?"

"Yes."

"So what, you don't care anymore if innocents die?" He spits, disgusted.

"My sentiments exactly!" Tyrion bellows as best he can, stepping up behind Jon Snow, Davos and Varys following close behind.

Daenerys eyes narrow.

"And why shouldn't I attack Kings Landing?" Dany turns to Jon, "To fight your war? My enemies are in the Red Keep!"

"I advise we take a step back and look at this logically," Tyrion begs, "we should wait, we still have the largest army —"

"—Who won't be able to eat because Cersei has now seized all the food from The Reach!"

"Call Grey Worm and the Unsullied back, we still have enough ships to carry the Dothraki to the Mainland. Commit to the blockade of Kings Landing. This is still the right plan."

"The right plan? Your strategy lost lost us Dorne, The Iron Islands and The Reach. Cersei has been one step ahead of you this entire time and yet you won't even consider that maybe just maybe you're wrong! A wise man would set aside his pride when he's command fails!"

Dany watches as the scared man looks to her uncomfortably.

"If I have underestimated our enemies—"

This makes Dany explode.

"Our enemies? You're family you mean!"

Jon steps forward and by the look on his own scared face he knows he's speaking out of place, but he'll do it anyways, because it's what right.

"So you'll lay siege to the city and burn everything in sight is that it?" He bellows.

"No, that is not it." Everyone jerks, stunned, but it's Tyrion that steps forward.

"Wait . . . I thought—"

"Once again you thought wrong." She hisses, "You all assumed I'd destroy a city, the city my ancestors built, innocents and all! You all look at me and see my father no matter the words of fealty," she looks from her advisers to Jon, "or begging me to help and yet in all of your eyes I'm no better than the Mad King, no matter what I do. Fine. Continue waiting for me to snap, to go mad, I don't care. While you're doing that, I'm going to do what I've always done. Rain fire and blood on my enemies."

Dany speaks only to Varys now.

"You said Cerseis armies are marching back to Kings Landing now?"

Varys nods, looking to his Queen with new admiration.

"Good. I'll intercept them before they can reach the gate."

"Your grace, I'm sorry, truly sorry, for assuming the worst, but we discussed this it's too dangerous for yo—"

"—What kind of Queen would I be if I'm not willing to risk my life to fight for the Kingdoms I call mine?"

"A smart one!"

She walks closer to her hand, "Your schemes were smart. And they failed. Before you came along I took what I wanted with force. I fought for what was right and it worked every time. I wanted my dragons, I used fire and I got my dragons. I wanted an army, I used fire, twice, and I got my army. I wanted to put an end to slavers bay, I used fire and slavers bay is no more. I am a dragon and I will fight like one. Enough with the clever plans."

Jon strides forward, body tense and eyes wild.

"You're going to ride into battle?" He ask, urgently. Dany almost took offense, as if he meant the idea silly of a woman, but one look into his eyes says something different. Her being a woman isn't what appalled him. Dany asks herself fleetingly if she's as transparent with her attraction to him as he is with his.

From behind her she hears Drogon screech and fly straight up from the side of the cliff and into view. He soars directly up for sometime, enthralling everyone but Jon. Jons eyes are glued to her, even when Drogon lands heavily at her back, his eyes widening further as he realizes just how spot on his words were.

"I am."

Daenerys turns on her heel and strides confidently to her child.

He bends his head low and she places a gently kiss on his snout, his warm flesh a balm to her heart. He hums, showing his own affection for his mother and shifts his large clawed paw for her to climb, he head following her as she mounts him to make sure she doesn't fall.

She doesn't look back as Drogon turns and runs and takes flight.

She focuses instead on what lays ahead.

Her first Victory in Westeros.


AN: so sorry this took me a minute, the battle will be next and I'm so excited for you to read the plans I have for it!

so so,e reviewers love correcting me and before anyone does yes, in the books it's said Viserys was Seven when he was crowned king at DS, but in the show 1.06 they said he was five since I'm going off show ages, I made him five.

PLEASE REVIEW