Jon Snow The Literal Fire-Breathing Dragon

by Umbrakinetic

Jon Snow was dead, betrayed by his own brothers. Ghost had tried to avenge him but was eventually taken down by the same men. Wargs don't truly die however so Jon finds himself reincarnated in the body of the animal he has the next closest connection to, a dragon he's never met. Specifically Daenerys's dragon, Rhaegal. RLJ

28. Jon X

So I forgot it was Friday yesterday, sorry this chapter was late.

---

When Jon finally rose from his desk, his eyes were red from his tears, and it stung to keep them open. He had caused Arya's rape by selfishly leaving Meereen. He knew where she was now, and he almost wished he didn't so he could go on naively believing she was safe and happy wherever she was.

He wished today was any other day but the day that it was. He wasn't sure after this morning's revelations he would have the proper headspace to deal with a meeting with the Lords of the Vale and the cunning of Lord Baelish that Sansa had repeatedly warned him of. He wanted to curl up in a ball and weep for his sisters lost innocence, not to be a King who showed no weakness right now. He couldn't be that though, he had to be a King whenever he was outside the solace of his loneliness, and today was not a day where he could lock himself in a room alone.

Jon stepped into the privy and washed his face before taking a long look in the mirror, where his reflection showed a man he did not recognize. He looked the part of a King who could not be defeated and who could protect anyone from anything. Jon looked like someone who men would take one glance at and decide to back down from their intent to harm those under his protection. Had Daario seen him by his Daenerys's side or if he had just seen Rhaegal flying overhead, then it's likely that nothing would have happened to his little sister. He had seen first-hand how fear cut deeper than swords, and Rhaegal's very presence completely paralyzed the opposition.

He glanced out his window, where in the North, the sun had only just peeked over the horizon. He still had a few hours until he and Sansa had to depart for the Vale if they wanted to be there in time to meet with the Lords of the Vale. Jon needed Rhaegal, and surely he had enough time to go for a quick morning flight. Besides, a flight would explain the dryness and redness of his eyes as the harsh winds tended to make his eyes water. A part of Jon felt terrible for the way he was thinking- for turning to Rhaegal since his connection to Rhaegal was why Arya had been so hurt. He couldn't help it though, he needed to speak with and more so just be with his closest companion and best friend in such a time of emotional turmoil.

He set his crown aside and pulled a hood over his head before leaving his chambers and entering the quiet hallways of the keep. Most of Winterfell was still sleeping at the early hour, and it was all too easy for Jon to simply pull his hood up and sneak by all the currently alert members of the household as just another commoner. He didn't have the temperament to deal with people right now, nor did he want people to see how troubled he was.

He stepped outside the keep and felt the cold brisk winds of the North on his somewhat bare skin. He had little issues with the cold these days since he was regularly on fire, but without the pleasant flames on his brow, he was feeling the chill. It was more bearable but also more bothersome now that he was a creature of the fire instead of a man of the cold. He was always warmer than most people were, but he also enjoyed higher temperatures than the average man, and the frozen North was far below what he preferred the temperature to be. Still, he could easily endure the cold. He had done so for the entirety of his life as Jon Snow.

He walked through the streets at a brisk pace, receiving a few nods and whispers of "Your Grace," from those who still managed to recognize him without the crown and his hood up but was largely left alone. He exited through the city gates and rounded the corner to the clearing that Rhaegal had made his nesting place in Winterfell for the time being. It was possibly the only spot in the North where the ground was arid due to the intense heat radiating from Rhaegal's scales.

Jon patted Rhaegal on the nose as he approached him. "Hey there, Rhaegal. I saw our Daenerys this morning." He said quietly, knowing that his dragon would hear him.

Rhaegal's head perked up, and his bronze eyes flickered open and locked onto Jon's. He let out a quiet growl in excitement.

Jon shook his head and sat down on the ground leaning his back against Rhaegal's chest. "I was excited to see her as well," Jon admitted. "I was only supposed to take the raven to see Varys so he could inform me of the happenings of Meereen and in the rest of the world. I got distracted and panicked when I couldn't find my Daenerys."

"She was in a different room than usual, and she wasn't alone." Rhaegal perked his head up and twisted his neck to look at Jon. "Arya was there with her. My sister." He said quietly.

Rhaegal yipped in happiness at her having been found. He then tilted his head in confusion when he noticed how unexcited Jon was to her having been found and having seen their Daenerys again.

Jon closed his eyes, and his hands clenched into fists at his side. "She was raped because we weren't there. She came to Meereen wanting to meet you and your siblings, and because we weren't there to protect her, she was hurt."

"She was raped by Daario fucking Naharis. We should have killed him when we first caught him in my Daenerys's bed. We might not have known what he would do, but we had known he wasn't to be trusted, but we let him live. It's my fault that Arya was raped." Jon confessed to his dragon.

Rhaegal shook his head, trying to convey that Jon was wrong. Jon only scowled in reply. "Our Daenerys tried to blame herself for this, but she's not at fault. I made the decision not to kill Daario, not you, not her, and not Arya. It was my choice that made us let him live. It was my choice that allowed him to rape Arya." He buried his face into the scalding hot scales of Rhaegal. "Even Arya blames me. She hates the brother that was always her favorite because I left to save my own life instead of protecting her. I abandoned her when she needed me most."

Rhaegal tried to shark his head and tell Jon he was wrong once again, but Jon wouldn't hear it. "Let's go for a flight; I need to clear my head." He didn't wait for a reply before rising from his seat on the ground and walking over to the small shed held the supplies for dragon flights he had had built in the last few weeks.

He grabbed the leather saddle-harness thingy that he had made so it would allow them to fly and Jon to see through Rhaegals eyes without worries that he would blow away in the wind as they went at higher speeds. The harness wasn't a substantial size, and it's not as if it provided him any reigns to steer Rhaegal if he flew somewhere other then where Jon wanted, but Jon didn't need it to do that. Rhaegal could be guided by just a thought while in his mind. The harness was just a means to assure that if he warged while flying, he didn't get blown off his back and die.

He strapped the harness around Rhaegal's underbelly, who grumbled good-naturedly in protest to the strap on his scales even though Jon knew he could hardly feel it and enjoyed flying faster more than he hated having the harness on his back. He sat himself on Rhaegal's back and fastened his legs into the harness until they were tight enough that even if he were to fall unconscious, he wouldn't come flying off.

"Sovegon," Jon whispered to Rhaegal even though the Valyrian command was completely needless when he was on Rhaegal, and with a beat of his wings, they were in the skies.

---

Jon sighed as he finally dismounted from Rhaegal, the snow that had fallen during his flight crunching underneath his boots. He had stretched his flying on long enough as was; Jon did have things he needed to do today after all that he couldn't postpone even if he wanted too. He rubbed the smooth scales on Rhaegal's neck one more time and then turned away from him to prepare for his trip to the Vale. He left the safety harness strapped around Rhaegal's back, seeing as he would need it again in a short while there was no point in removing it.

He had needed that flight with Rhaegal, and it had been fantastic, but it hadn't helped as much as he hoped it would have- as much as it usually did. The guilt for what he had felt, for his part in Arya's current predicament, had been too crushing for him just to move on and forget about it for even a moment. He had tried everything to move past it, his flight had been more daring than ever before with high-speed dives left and right, corkscrews, and even flying upside down for a time. None of it had brought him the distraction or clear mind that he so desperately craved even for a moment. Rhaegal was his other half, but right now, the half of him that was Jon Snow was to hurt to let Rhaegal heal him.

Sansa accosted him the moment he walked through the hallway and into the mess hall. "There you are, Jon. I thought you said we were to meet here a half-hour ago to prepare to leave for our trip to the Eeyrie." She said in greeting with her arms crossed impatiently.

Today was that day, and Sansa had to come with him for this since Baelish was his main point of contact and influence. He needed her with him for this meeting. They would be gone for about a week or so, leaving Winterfell in the hands of Rickon and officially the Smalljon as his guardian although unofficially it was Osha who was in charge of Rickon. He didn't trust the Umbers at all but he did have to make small concessions and let them think he trusted them in order to retain their loyalty.

Jon forced a smile as his thoughts drifted back to the matter at hand. "Sorry, I went for a flight and lost track of time." The excuse sounded hollow to even his own ears even if it was the truth.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him, "You went for a flight? You realize that we are going to be flying for the next six hours, right?"

Jon said nothing in return, how could he explain to someone what his bond with Rhaegal was really like. He didn't go to him for the flying or the thrill of it but because he needed the company of his best friend. He was very much aware of what today was, which is why it had been so urgent.

"You and your dragon," she chuckled good-naturedly. "Are you at least prepared to leave? We don't have much time to waste if we want to make it in time to meet with the Lords."

Jon nodded. "I just have to get changed into my royal regalia, and then we can get going." He looked at her and glanced up and down her form. "You probably want to dress warmer as well. I've been told that the air is rather frigid up there."

She rolled her eyes again. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "I'll be fine, Jon, I wore this at the wall and found it perfectly agreeable."

"Aye, and it is colder up there then it is at the wall. We'll be far higher, and it is freezing up there. You'll want to dress very warmly, or our journey will be very unpleasant."

Sansa rolled her eyes once more. "If you are that worried, I'll add an extra layer. I'll be fine."

Jon nodded. "I'll get changed, and then we'll meet out by the southern wall to depart. I already gathered most of what we needed last night, so we should be able to depart soon. Say no more than half an hour. I gave us enough of a window so we would arrive early to the Eeyrie, now we will just only be there at the time we told Baelish we would arrive."

Sansa nodded in agreement, and they parted ways. Jon went back to his own bed chambers and changed into his normal Targaryen regalia that he wore for any semi formal occasion these days. The seamstress of Winterfell had it designed for him after he had taken up residence here following the massacre of the Boltons. The red dragon of House Targaryen was sown on his chest, and cloak with the faint outline of a white direwolf to represent House Stark embroidered around it. The direwolf was supposed to be grey if he was truly using the sigil of House Stark but white looked better on his black vest and Jon also thought that it represented Ghost- his previous other half who had died to avenge him rather than just House Stark.

He lifted his rather heavy crown and placed it on the top of his head. He placed a Candle to the always warm metal and watched in the mirror as it lit aflame atop his head. The rush of warmth that it brought to the cold and dreary north always felt incredible. He still didn't feel exactly like an all powerful Targaryen King with it on that it symbolized after his power and heritage had caused Arya's rape but he had to pretend to be that King today if he wanted to gain the loyalty of the Vale.

He exited his chambers and walked back outside in complete silence as he fell into his royal mask once more. He was the unshakable, fearless, powerful, and confident King. He was not the broken man he had been this morning when he had seen Arya again. He was King Jon of House Targaryen. The Unburnt, and the Dragon. The man who had conquered death not been powerless to even stop the rape of his sister.

He had beat Sansa to the southern gate even after her nagging him to hurry up. If he was in a better mood he might tease her about it but he just wanted to get in the skies again. He was more at home there then he was trudging through the dreary snow.

He walked back over to the shed round the bend and in the clearing that Rhaegal was laying in, impatiently waiting for Jon to get back in the air. He knew Rhaegal wasn't a fan of just staying still unless it was to sleep. Still, he understood the necessity of this.

He stepped inside the shed and hauled out for lack of better terms, a wooden box, attached to metal chains. The box did not have a roof and six feet long in each direction with ledges that served as benches lining each wall. It was designed to carry up to eight passengers, if need be although Jon had never actually taken more than one person before, it was still better to have seats available for every one he might need to transport simultaneously. The ledges were all fixed with five straps extending from the walls to lock around one's legs and waist and hold any passengers in the carriage as it would rock back and forth in stronger winds and could easily spill and precious cargo as Jon had learned while testing the design with the carriage full of only boulders.

The back of the seats were cushioned at the suggestion of Maester Wolkan when he saw what the carpenters had whipped up for him. He had warned them that the jostling of the carriage could cause brain damage and even death as their heads thumped against the wood repeatedly in flight. Jon had quickly agreed to the very sensible suggestion from the Maester. A suggestion that he knew Edmure Tully was thankful for as even with the cushions he had complained about a headache when they landed.

One of the benches opened up to store any precious cargo that one did not want to lose during the flight from a strong gust of wind. The bench was padlocked shut right now by three separate steel chains and would likely remain so in most instances. That bench probably wasn't the most comfortable one with metal chains lining the sides of the middle and outer edges of the seats but it would serve both purposes he might need it for even if comfort wasn't optimal.

He grabbed the two iron chains and dragged them towards Rhaegal before kneeling on the grass beside Rhaegal and fastening the steel shackles that carried the chains around his hind legs. Rhaegal whined in protest at the actions.

Jon sighed and stroked Rhaegal's neck as Rhaegal nuzzled his chest. "I know it's not comfortable Rhaegal but I need to take Sansa with me to the Vale, so it's either this or she rides on your back with me."

Rhaegal sulked slightly but nodded in acceptance. They both knew which one Rhaegal preferred. He wouldn't tolerate a non-Valyrian on his back unless absolutely necessary, and even then he might not. There was a reason only Valyrians ever had dragons. "I promise not to make you do this more than is absolutely necessary," Jon vowed. "I know that this sucks for you."

Sansa had come over while Jon was fixing the shackles around Rhaegal's legs. "Are we ready to depart?" She asked.

Jon didn't say anything until after he was certain that the chains were secure to Rhaegal's hindquarters. He slowly stood and turned to address her. "We will be once I get you strapped into the carriage. There isn't all that much preparation required for a flight. It's not as if we need to take any supplies or rations with us on a few hour-long journey. Even if we did try to take supplies with us they would just fall out along the way unless strapped in. If we desperately need food on our journey then Rhaegal can catch something for us and we'll stop to eat."

Sansa nodded and looked over at the carriage. "Do I just pick a spot to sit and buckle myself in?" She asked somewhat nervously.

Jon shook his head. I'd advise you to take that seat, so you aren't upside down for most of our journey." He pointed at the seat farthest from Rhaegal on the back wall of the carriage. "I'll help you strap yourself in, at least this first time. As I learned when Lord Edmure rode in it, the straps are apparently somewhat confusing the first time using them."

She did as bidded and sat where he had pointed her to. He knelt down by her feet and fastened the first strap around her ankles. This should be Arya who was getting to ride on Rhaegal, she was the one who admired dragons after all. She would be so envious but because he has left Meereen, leaving her defenseless she would not have Rhaegal there to ride on.

Jon shook his head to clear it of that dangerous thought path. He couldn't afford to think like that right now, he had to stay focused on gaining the loyalty of the Vale. "Remind me again of what Lord Baelish thinks I know of your history and relationship?"

"He is of the belief that you believe I see him as a surrogate father and have no clue of his romantic interests in me. He believes that you believe that it was Lysa Arryn who sold me to Ramsay before her suicide and he was forced to follow through on her word, that it was not his decision. He knows that I told you that he killed Joffrey, and that he saved me from the Lannisters with the intent of returning me to my aunt so he believes that you feel slightly indebted to him and trust him more than most people although I made it very clear that trust is not something that comes easy to you." Sansa recited once more. They had already discussed this numerous times while preparing for the meeting with the Lords of the Vale. He wasn't asking her because he didn't know but because he needed the distraction from the depressing thoughts.

He nodded as he moved on to the third strap that went just below her kneecap. "Remind me again which houses Baelish suspects will side with me regardless of how poorly this meeting goes?"

He could practically hear Sansa roll her eyes at his question. "We've been over this already Jon, Baelish believes that Lord Royce will stand with you regardless due to his friendship with our father. He is as father often said, in a lot of ways a man of the North at heart, just as much as he is a Knight of the Vale. Lord Corbray, and Lord Belmore will also stand with us along with, of course, Lord Arryn due to the influence Baelish has over those families." Jon nodded absentmindedly at the response as he moved onto the fourth strap at her thighs. "The rest of the men will likely be up to us to win the loyalty of and the Mountain Clans will be you entirely on your own since you insist on reaching out to them." Sansa said with the slightest hit of disdain. "With the forces that Baelish provides us, and House Royce we will at worst have upwards of 6,000 Valemen to fight on your behalf. The absolute best-case outcome is we leave next week with 40,000 men to add to our own army although realistically we will have about half of that at most."

Sansa let out a hiss in pain as Jon tightened the final strap around her waist. "Must you pull it so tight?" She gasped.

Jon chuckled and stood up. "I can either tighten it or you can fall off and fall to your death while we're in the sky. I'll warn you that takeoffs and especially landings can be a bit jarring."

Sansa wrung her hands nervously. "I can't believe that I'm actually going to be riding on a dragon- well technically not riding on him but I'm actually going to be flying. I never even dreamed of something like this." She sounded almost giddy at the prospect. "This was always Arya's thing, dragons that is- not mine. She'll be so jealous that I got to fly before her."

Jon couldn't stop himself from frowning at the mention of Arya. She should have always gotten the opportunity to ride Rhaegal before Sansa and even Jon himself. Had he stayed in Meereen she would have gotten that chance and she never would have been raped. He could have kept her safe if he hadn't been so selfish and prioritized being crowned a King and revenge over her well being.

Sansa took note of Jon's frown. "Don't think like that Jon," She chided. "We'll find her. She will come home now that she knows it is safe. She is out there and will be with us again soon."

Jon's frown only deepened. That was the issue, wasn't it? He had found her and at the worst possible time. She was not safe without Jon there to protect her and all his fears had been confirmed true. Sansa was entirely wrong.

He glanced at her hopeful smile and a part of him had the urge to crush that hope, why should she be allowed to feel this joy when he couldn't? Then again she had every right to feel that hope since it was hardly her fault that Arya had been raped unlike him. Or maybe it was? If she hadn't screwed up his original plan he wouldn't have thought he needed to call Rhaegal to him at all. He could have defeated the Boltons without Rhaegals help and Rhaegal would have been there to protect her.

Still, she deserved to know. More than he did at the very least. Although, it could also put her in the same dangerous headspace as Jon was currently in and they would be even more unprepared to deal with the Lords of the Vale. Yet there was also the possibility that Baelish would know of Arya's fate. If Sansa were to find out that he was keeping it from her then she would no longer remain loyal to him- it was even possible that her desire for revenge would exceed her desire to see her own self-interests met like it had with Ramsay Bolton. If he lost the illusion of Sansa's loyalty then he could lose everything. He had to tell her no matter how little he wanted to tell her, it was too big of a risk to not share the information.

He glanced longingly at Rhaegal before stepping out of the carriage and tossing the flaming crown down in the snow where it simmered and went out with a loud hiss as the cold wet snow extinguished the wonderful flames that warmed his brow. He picked up the crown and used the stepping stool to get back inside the carriage. He opened the chest under the seat closest to Rhaegal and stashed both his crown and Longclaw inside of it before relocking the chest with all three chains. He could hardly carry a sword on his hip while still being strapped to a bench after all.

Once that was done, he sat down to Sansa's left, against the adjacent wall. He wouldn't be able to tell her here where anyone could overhear and it would cause all kinds of questions about how he knew things if someone who didn't know Jon was a warg overheard the conversation. Luckily he had one venue where it was impossible for any eavesdroppers to follow them unless they were a warg themselves.

He sighed and bent down and started locking the straps around his own ankles. Sansa said nothing as he strapped himself in, likely aware that he would explain his reasoning once they were in the skies. She was very much aware of how much he enjoyed flying on Rhaegal's back and knew he wouldn't choose to not ride him without good reason. One he was strapped in he glanced at her face and was met by a single raised eyebrow in askance but she was willing to wait for him to tell her why he was in the carriage and not on Rhaegal's back.

He closed his eyes and gave Rhaegal the mental command to take off- slowly while in his mind. Rhaegal beat his wings and flew only a few feet up off of the ground, careful not to lift the carriage at all. He moved a few feet over and slowly up until he was directly over their heads and the chains were extended fully vertically without any horizontal tilt to them in any direction. This had taken lots of practice to get right using carriages full of heavy stones, and Rhaegal still had some difficulty doing it without Jon's direction but this was the only way. If he were to just take off normally then the carriage might flip upside down and their heads could splatter on the ground as they dragged along. As vexing as his sister might be at times, he did not exactly want her dead or anyone else that he deemed important enough to ride in here at some point.

Once they were in the proper positioning, only then did Rhaegal slowly lift them off of the ground. The carriage rocked unsteadily as they slowly lifted themselves off of the ground, and Jon's stomach lurched a bit. Rhaegal's back was steady and firm even under the most tricky maneuvers they tried to pull off. The carriage was completely at the mercy of the wind, it was unsettling for someone who had mastered the winds to be a slave to it.

They slowly ascended into the skies under Jon's guidance as Rhaegal. They climbed higher and higher into the clouds until they were probably a thousand feet above the ground and even to Rhaegal's enhanced eyesight, the world was miniscule beneath them. Only then did Jon pull out of Rhaegal and give him the command to fly full speed onwards to the Vale.

The carriage immediately shot back behind Rhaegal as Rhaegal built up speed and the wind Rhaegal carelessly battered through pushed them back like they were mere fleas. Jon was hanging sideways and the only reason he didn't slide down the bench was the straps holding him in place. Sansa was facing straight down at the ground almost from her position on the back wall. Jon would admit that he envied her ability to see the ground below as Jon's spot made it difficult to actually see anything but the blue sky across from him and the clouds that Rhaegal mercilessly punctured with his pace.

It was much colder in the carriage than on Rhaegal's back where he had the dragons superheated scales to warm him and the comfort of a crown of fire on his brow. It was also much louder. He had thought Edmure was exaggerating when he said that it was the loudest thing he ever heard, flying in that carriage behind Rhaegal. For whatever reason, it was significantly louder following behind Rhaegal rather than on top of his back.

He turned to Sansa and shouted, "I found Arya!" He could hardly hear himself speak over the roaring wind.

She mouthed something back at him that Jon could not make out at all.

He shouted even louder this time, "I found Arya!"

She mouthed something back at him once more but Jon still couldn't hear her at all. This wasn't working and this wasn't particularly a conversation that they should be having hearing only pieces of what the other said.

He closed his eyes and joined Rhaegal in mind once more. "Slow down Rhaegal, and then stop and hover in place. I and my sister need to have a conversation." He told his dragon who huffed in annoyance but complied with his request. They couldn't just immediately slam to a stop or else the carriage would swing backward around Rhaegal's front and flip over which apart from being extremely uncomfortable, it would also make landing impossible. They had discovered that particular drawback of carrying the carriage while under the earliest testing phases of the design. All motions had to be slowed with the cargo or else it could be life-ending for those in the carriage. It had taken hundreds of test runs before Jon was comfortable transporting a single person with him. Rhaegal hated all of them but understood the necessity of it. This was something that could save lives one day and it would be much more convenient.

They slowed to a stop and the wind battering at their faces and roaring in their ears subsided to much more manageable levels. "So what is it that you needed to be up here to talk to me about Jon?" Sansa asked after a moment they both spent catching their breaths and waiting for the ringing in their ears to subside.

"I found Arya," He said quietly.

"What? You did? Where? How?" Sansa asked in a rush of enthusiasm.

Jon winced at her enthusiasm. "She's in Meereen with Daenerys. She'll join us in Westeros when Daenerys does."

"Are you certain your source is correct? That this is really her and not some imposter pretending to be her for their own gain?" Sansa asked hesitantly.

Jon nodded. "I know it's her, I saw her with my own eyes."

Sansa flinched back. "Are you saying that you've known this for months? That you knew before your dragon came here and just didn't say anything? Why would you not tell me?" She demanded in anger.

Jon shook his head. "Gods no," Jon quickly denied. "I know we've had our issues but I wouldn't keep something like that from you, she's your sister." More so than mine at least, you didn't let her be raped. "I only learned this morning."

"How could you have seen her in Meereen if you only just learned of her being there? I thought your only warg spies were positioned in Kings Landing and at the Twins right now?" Sansa questioned somewhat suspiciously.

"I sent a single raven to Meereen. Lord Varys planned to use one to transmit any valuable urgent intel to me through a secure channel." He sighed and glanced away from her. "That raven arrived today and I got a bit sidetracked on the way to him. She was talking with my Daenerys, I saw her and heard her speak. She spoke to me."

He avoided Sansa's gaze and gazed down at the ground hundreds of feet below them instead. He didn't need to see her excitement when he dashed it. He could stay disconnected here and just give an informative report. He focused on the bitter chill of the wind. He could do this, he couldn't let his emotions control him now. He would tell her as he had to but no more, he would remain in control of his emotions. He was not a slave to them.

"Jon," Sansa said softly after a moment. Jon's head craned to look at her face instinctively. Her brows were knitted together in the same way they had been when they tried to figure out how to deal with the backlash of Robb's will. The same exact way it was when she had put the pieces together and come up with the optimal plan of attack. "Why are you so upset by Arya being found? Is this not joyous news? Did some- did something happen to her?" She asked somewhat fearfully.

He looked away from her once more. "Arya was raped before my Daenerys found her."

"What? Tell me this is some kind of cruel jest?"

Jon shook his head as his unwanted tears ran down his cheek.

Sansa laughed a cruel bitter laugh. "Father always told me that Arya and I would find we had more in common then we thought. I doubt this is what he meant though."

Jon said nothing. What was there to say? What could he do to make it easier for her to learn that Arya had been raped? He couldn't even handle it himself yet so how could he comfort her in this?

"Who raped her? Did your betrothed at least punish her rapist?" Sansa asked after a moment of silence.

Jon sighed and finally looked at her. She was in just as much disarray as he was at this revelation. This meeting tonight was going to be a mess but wasn't it only right that Jon prioritized Arya's wellbeing over his kingdom? "She was raped by Daario Naharis. The captain of the Storm Crows, a sellsword who was under my Daenerys's employ."

Seeing the dark look on her face, Jon was quick to assuage her fears. "She was, of course, completely unknowing of his true nature. When Daenerys found Arya's broken form, she took her in, unknowing of who she was. She saved her life. When Daario Naharis was revealed to be the culprit, she allowed Arya to execute him herself. Fucking Ser Daario is finally dead but he should have died a long time ago if I had only acted accordingly and killed him as I should have the first time I saw him in Meereen."

"You couldn't have known what he would do to Arya, Jon." Sansa tried to reassure him. "You couldn't have stopped this."

"I might not have been able to know but Rhaegal did. He knew that Daario was not to be trusted. He tried to attack him and I held him back from killing the bastard. If I hadn't been there he would have died and Arya would have been fine. Or if I had just not been selfish and left Rhaegal in Meereen I would have been there to protect her. While I was patrolling the streets of the city, crime came to almost a complete standstill. Daario would have never touched her if I was there. If he had, I would have eaten him. I could have easily stopped this. It is my fault that she suffered so."

"You didn't know who this Ser Daario Naharis was, or what he would do. Maybe you were suspicious of his true nature but you're suspicious of everyone Jon, it would be more worrisome if you trusted a sellsword than you and Rhaegal who you've told me is one with your mind, didn't trust him. You leaving Meereen was not selfish, it was selfless. Your dragon saved the lives of all of your Wildlings- the Free Folk, it saved the lives of the Slates, and the Mormonts as well. You calling the dragon to you saved my life, and it saved Rickon's. You calling your dragon led to the end of arranged marriages, and women having a place in the world equal to that of a man. Those decisions bring you no personal gain as a man, but you still made it for the good of the world, and for my good. You are the antithesis of selfish Jon and not at all to blame for what happened to Arya." Sansa declared adamantly.

"It is my fault!" Jon roared in frustration. "Even Arya blames me for this! I could have saved her and I chose not to."

Sansa sighed and placed a gloved hand on his thigh. "Arya doesn't really blame you Jon."

Jon pulled away from her. "She literally told me and I quote; I thought that there was no way that my favorite brother wouldn't protect me when I needed him most. That he would have left just before I needed him." He snarled. "She agrees that I should have been there for her. That I am at fault for her suffering."

Sansa sighed once more- softer this time and reached out for Jon's right hand. "She's hurting and is looking for someone to blame. When I first realized how much of a monster my beloved Joffrey was, I blamed father for my being with him. When I was forced to marry Lord Tyrion, I blamed Robb and our father for being forced into it. Their decisions to rebel against the Lannisters was what lead to it, Robb was being selfish by choosing his crown over my safety. When I was sold to Ramsay by Baelish, and raped by him; I blamed Robb for dying and leaving me at his mercy. I know in retrospect that they are not to blame but in the moment I hated him and father both until I had time to move on. When something like that happens, it is completely natural to want to blame the people closest to you for it. It's easier to blame someone else then it is to process the horror. Arya is only blaming you because it is easy, not because she actually feels you are at fault for it. Deep down she knows that you are no more responsible than she is. "

Jon swallowed. Could she be right? Was it possible that Arya didn't hate him or actually blame him even though she should? Sansa had suffered in the same way, surely she would know what Arya was thinking here. Could he dare to hope that he could have his relationship with his favorite sister back? She wasn't wrong was she? They were nowhere near the same thing but when he had first learned what the wall was, Jon had blamed his uncle for sending him there, and Robb for not fighting his mother to let him stay in Winterfell. In hindsight, he was being irrational but in the moment pushing the blame for anything horrible onto someone was easy. Perhaps it was what Arya was doing here and even what Jon was doing by trying to claim all the blame for himself. Arya did not hate him and he was not entirely responsible for what happened to her. Daario Naharis was primarily the one to blame and while Jon still felt somewhat guilty, it wasn't his fault that Daario had attacked her.

He smiled genuinely for the first time since he had learned of Arya's fate. "Thank you, Sansa. I needed to hear that." He said honestly. "Thank you for sharing your own experiences with me."

Sansa gave him a weak smile in return. "Of course, Jon. You are my brother, I won't let anyone tear you apart, even yourself." She hesitated. "Is Arya alright- not just safe but happy with the Queen? Is she being treated as well as the sister of the King should be? Or is she a prisoner?"

The like I was went unsaid but Jon heard it all the same. He knew her own experiences with royalty had been rough, something that Jon had hardly helped by sending her to Baelish so it was only natural that she would fear Arya was being used the same way. He shook his head vehemently. "My Daenerys would never do that," He declared adamant in that belief. "From what I saw, they were getting along swimmingly. She was as close as I've ever seen her to anyone with my Daenerys." Perhaps closer than she ever was to me even. Their relationship wasn't built on a lie and promises that Jon had failed to keep. "She wasn't happy but considering the circumstances, she looked much better than you would expect."

Sansa sighed in relief. "That's good." There was another lapse of silence before she spoke again. "Do you know when the Queen plans to depart for Westeros? When we'll be reunited with Arya?"

Jon frowned and shook his head. "If Jorah gave my Daenerys the note I told him to give her then she should see the urgency of the situation. I'd have to imagine that he hasn't returned to Meereen yet so she is comfortable waiting. She cares about the people of Meereen and doesn't want to leave there until she can be certain that they won't backslide with her gone. Unfortunately, the Long Night makes it impossible to wait for that time. She'll see the urgency of the matter and depart within a few weeks of receiving my message, I'd have to imagine. Essos will still be there for us after the Long Night is won."

"Do you two plan on branching out to Essos once you have the Iron Throne and the Long Night has passed? Or will you settle and just rule over Westeros?" Sansa asked curiously. They had never actually discussed what he wanted to do if they survived the Long Night. How he would rule his Kingdom in the wake of the apocalypse.

"My Daenerys and I plan on ending slavery in all of the World, not just Westeros. There are men and women suffering in chains in both Essos and Sothoryos that I can not in good conscience allow to remain that way. Right now, Westeros has to be the priority but we won't discriminate based on where someone is born. They all deserve freedom equally."

Sansa frowned at his passionate response. "That's unrealistic Jon. If the Long Night is even half as terrible as you make it out to be, no one will want to fight more afterward. If half our army is desecrated by the army of the dead then how do you plan to stand against all of Essos? Even if we win without major casualties, how do you plan on convincing the Lords to fight for a bunch of foreigners? Be satisfied with just making Westeros a better place, the rest of the world will have to find it's own savior."

Jon nearly snarled at her dismissal of the Essosi people simply due to where they had been born. Essos needed the wheel broken just as much, if not more than Westeros did. He knew it was impractical but there were ways of gaining compliance, both through diplomacy and force that would see the wheel broken in all parts of the world. "We will not abandon anyone to suffer needlessly when we have the power to stop it. All men and women are equally worthy of being freed from the wheel- regardless of where they were born or what their status is. There are ways to convince the Lords to send their men to fight for us. Even if they refuse to do so; we will still not abandon the rest of the world. My Daenerys took Astapor with less than a hundred men and baby dragons, she took Meereen while outnumbered by rallying the people. We will do the same again if we have to for the rest of the world."

"Like what?" Sansa half asked and half demanded. "How do you plan on gaining the support of the Lords in your endeavor to aid foreigners and savages- their words, not mine." She amended at Jon's glare. "Do you plan on preaching to them about building a better world? That only worked with the North because you are a northerner and they saw a chance to gain power. Do you plan on threatening to burn down their homes as the Mad King did? Force compliance exclusively through fear as they all plot your demise behind your back?"

Jon snorted. "Do you think so little of me sister? We haven't discussed things in detail yet but we both tentatively plan- or on her part is at least willing to give each of our Kingdoms and the cities we take partial independence. They will be forced to abide by our laws but they would be allowed to govern themselves. We give them what they want, and more power for themselves and they'll fight for us. Only Dorne would be slighted by this. We both know it is not practically possible for us to rule over a thousand cities and Kingdoms with their own cultures at once. We plan on giving the people partial power to make things easier on ourselves and to gain their unending loyalty. The North fought a war for independence and we'll give it to them for free. If they still refuse to fight for us, even after all of our diplomatic efforts then we will use force but only as a last resort. If it takes ugly methods to build the new world, that will not deter us from our goal. All men will be freed from the wheel before we die, no matter the cost."

"Listen to yourself Jon, you're talking about conquering the entire world. You want to force men to kneel through fear and death if this is what it takes to achieve your goals. Is your new world order worth it if it comes at the cost of the lives of so many? Is it worth it if you hurt just as many people as you help? Father would hate this, he would never abide by such detestable actions regardless of the outcome in the end. You sound mad and power-crazed Jon, the world is too big for any one man to rule." Sansa protested.

Jon tried to shoot to his feet and yell at her but the chains that were bound around his lower half, anchoring him to the bench made that impossible. He settled for just yelling. "Yes, Sansa it is worth it! If I had stayed dead and my Daenerys had chosen to stay in Essos, leaving you at the hands of Ramsay while she ended abhorrent marriages like yours everywhere else, would you not want to be saved? Would you not consider any price worth it? You thought that all of the Free Folk were disposable when it came to having your own freedom and revenge. You were willing to throw my entire army to the slaughter in the effort to have that. You are being hypocritical and racist by expecting me to abandon the rest of the world! Their lives are not any less valuable just because they live in Essos. They are innocent people too who do not deserve to suffer because of their place of birth or social status. We are the only people in the whole world with the power to save all of them from their horrible lives of bondage and pain; to not save them would be selfish and evil. Even if in the short term, more people are being hurt by our breaking the wheel; in the long run, the world will be better off for it when no man is born into slavery or written off as worthless because of their birth status."

Sansa frowned but gave a resigned nod. "We can wait to discuss this until after the Long Night, there's no point in arguing about this right now."

Jon closed his eyes and nodded as well. "We'll be touching down briefly for me to switch to Rhaegal's back. After that, we'll head for the Vale at full speed in order to make up for the time we've wasted." Jon would have had to stop to swap seats at some point either way. He needed to make an entrance when he arrived and he couldn't do that while, not on Rhaegal. He had to be the confident dragon-riding Targaryen King. Perhaps, he could have waited a bit longer before moving positions but he didn't particularly want to let his anger fester by staring at his sister for hours. He needed to have a clear mind for the meeting, and flying on Rhaegal's back was very calming most the time.

---

Rhaegal flapped his wings rapidly as he lowered himself down onto the hillside. He had never actually tried landing on anything other than flat ground before, the idea that it would be required hadn't actually occurred to him. Letting the carriage lie flat on the ground on a hill was a difficult task to say the least but with the Eyrie built into the side of a mountain, it was an unavoidable one. They didn't have the time to land at the bottom and make the treacherous hike up the icy mountain to reach the Eyrie, even if they did it would hardly be the statement of power that Jon needed it to be if they arrived to the meeting on foot instead of on the back of a dragon.

Jon hugged his arms around Rhaegal's neck and slipped into the dragon's skin. Gently he lowered himself down towards the ground while making sure to stay upright so the carriage hung flat over the ground until they were only a few feet over the ground. He then curled Rhaegal's hind legs up as far as he could, clutching them to the dragon's chest, causing Sansa in the carriage below to rise as well at the jerk of the chains.

He continued to slowly lower themselves towards the ground until he felt the carriage slam into the higher part of the hill. From there it was as simple as just slowly unfurling their legs to gently drop Sansa to the slope of the hill. Once he was sure she was safely planted on the ground, he flew a bit lower before landing a few feet higher up the mountain, making sure not to fully extend the chains again so Sansa wouldn't be moved from her place on the ground.

He let out a loud roar as he hit the ground before slipping back into his own skin. He pushed himself upright as all of the onlookers stared in both awe and fear at Rhaegal and his flaming crown. It only took a moment for him to slip out of the straps holding him to Rhaegal's back, he had done this enough times by now for the transition to be smooth.

He slipped off of his back and stood on the uneven icy ground. If he hadn't been used to worse terrain in the true north then he might have lost his footing but after the skirling pass, this was nothing. He crouched down and undid the harness around Rhaegal's belly and sat it down on the ground beside him. He then walked around to his hind legs and undid the heavy steel manacles around his ankles.

"Go on Rhaegal," Jon said with a small smile. "You've earned the chance to be free, have fun out there." Rhaegal let out a happy chirp before leaping into the skies with a roar and a short burst of flame in the empty sky. The snow was kicked by his hasty exit and blanketed Jon's cloak.

Jon shook himself, picked up the saddle, and turned to the carriage where two armored knights were helping Sansa out of her own straps. They had likely struggled to figure it out at first, but they seemed to be getting it now. He tossed the saddle on the empty bench across from Sansa as she finally got free and stood up. She staggered on her feet at first after so long without moving, and rubbed at her chaffed legs that the straps had rubbed at for the last few hours. He had no doubt that it was just as uncomfortable for her as it was for him, if not more so.

It was only once Sansa had emerged from the carriage that Jon turned towards their welcoming party. He had to pretend that his sister's well being was his primary concern and that he unconditionally trusted her for Lord Baelish to believe the lie she had spun for him. He did trust her- at least to look out for her own self-interests which required him on the throne to be realized. For now, there was no harm in being honest with her because it would hurt her to betray him, that would remain the case until he had the throne so she was a perfectly functioning hand. She even had more of a mind for politics and manipulation than Jon had thought she did.

"Your Grace," A thin man with dark hair that had threads of grey within it greeted sweetly as he bowed. "I am here to greet you on behalf of Lord Robin Arryn who sends his warmest regards and is very pleased that you've given him the honor of hosting you."

The man stood up straight and that was when Jon knew who he was. His plum-colored doublet with a mockingbird embroidered on the right breast in black thread. The sigil that Lord Baelish had taken for his own in place of the Titan they used to use that showed their foreign roots, roots that Baelish wanted people to forget about. A mockingbird was a symbol of honesty and integrity in Westeros, something that Jon knew Baelish was the opposite of according to Sansa. But that was why the bird was mocking them wasn't it?

Jon plastered a smile onto his face. "Lord Baelish, I presume?" Baelish gave a slight nod. "It is a pleasure to finally meet the man who saved my sister's life and kept her safe while I was, unfortunately, unable to do so. House Stark owes you a debt for your aid in their Lady's hour of need. "

Lord Baelish's lips curled upwards. "The honor is all mine, Your Grace. I and her mother were always so close growing up, so I view her as a sort of surrogate daughter. Although, I was only married to my beloved Lysa for a short time before she went mad and killed herself. She is family and while I was only married to a Tully for a short time, ( grew up as one and I do pride myself in following their words. Family, Duty, and Honor are of the utmost importance to me."

Jon smiled in return. "Whatever your reasons were, I am grateful for your service all the same." He coughed and changed the subject to why they were really here. "I was told by my Hand that Lord Arryn has called all the Lords of the Vale here to meet with me, and reaffirm their oaths of fealty to House Targaryen. Has that been done?"

"Of course, Your Grace," Baelish replied. "All of the Lords are here for the summit although they have yet to pledge you their fealty. Some of them are merely here out of obligation or loyalty to the Lord Arryn. Your offer of naming him Warden of the East, your Squire, and promising a spot on your council to a man of his choice was too good of a deal for the young Lord to pass up. He has already promised House Arryn and all of it's armies to you in your campaign to reclaim your throne."

"I'm pleased to hear it," Jon replied with a genuinely warm smile.

"If you'll follow Lady Stone, Your Grace, then she will direct you to your chambers for you and your sister to freshen up before seeing the Lord Arryn." Baelish said smoothly, gesturing towards a tall strapping woman dressed in leather pants and a man's coat. Her hair was the color of freshly burned charcoal and was cut short much like how Arya had always wanted hers to be against the wishes of her mother.

"Your Grace," She bowed only slightly to him before uprighting herself. "If you would follow me inside, I can have you both brought to where your chambers will be for the duration of your stay here in the Eyrie."

Jon smiled openly. "That would be much appreciated." He turned away from her striking blue eyes and back towards Baelish. "If you can have some of your men bring the carriage and saddle inside, it would be much appreciated. I would much prefer to take my sister back with me when we return to the North."

Baelish nodded. "Of course, Your Grace, although I can't say I would protest having the company of the Lady Sansa for more than just a handful of days."

Jon bit his lip to stop himself from frowning at the weasel he would be forced to work with for the foreseeable future. Instead he turned back towards the Lady Stone, "Shall we be off?"

She nodded her head and begun to trek across the snow, towards the gates. They had skipped most of the mountain by flying on Rhaegal but there was still some space between them and the Eyrie. He stared after the mysterious Lady Stone for reasons he could not place. Obviously, she was a bastard based on her name but why would Baelish have her of all people serve as their escort?

After they had only made it a few paces, the Lady Stone slowed herself and turned towards Sansa. "I must apologize for not treating you with the proper respect the last time we spoke, Alayne- sorry Lady Sansa," Lady Stone did not sound at all apologetic despite what she claimed. It was a playful statement, not a fearful one.

Sansa smiled warmly at her. "I'm glad you didn't, if you had referred to me by my proper name and titles, it would have ruined the whole point of going by that name."

Lady Stone snorted. "It would have, wouldn't it." She shook her head and regained her bearings, likely remembering who the third member of their party was. "I am glad to see you are alright Alayne, you vanished overnight and then we heard you were sold by the former Lady Lysa to the Bolton Bastard. I was horrified on your behalf, it is good to see you have survived the experience."

Sansa gave her a smile in kind, although Jon could tell it was forced. "I survived, I appreciate the concern though Mya. It is good to see you again as well."

They followed her in a stilted silence once more, every step the Lady Stone- Mya according to Sansa took; she exuded energy. She was constantly restless and boiling with enthusiasm begging to be unleashed. There was something about her that intrigued him, something that felt familiar to a part of Jon. She was a bit like Arya in some ways before... she clearly did not care for the rules of society that mandated how she should behave as a bastard and a woman, but her lack of status forced her to abide by them as it was constantly beat into her like it had been into Jon. That had to be why he felt he knew her, she was both in parts like him and like Arya- at least the old Arya that is.

They stepped through the gates and into the relative warmth of the Eyrie. "Err- Your Grace, forgive me if this is intrusive but does it hurt?" Mya asked curiously, her desire to have answers outweighing her sense of decorum.

Jon flushed at the attention. "Err- does what hurt?"

She gestured wildly at his head. Sansa filled in the gaps for him. "She's asking if the fire hurts Jon, Mya does have quite a way with words."

Jon stopped. "Oh uh no. It's incredibly pleasant actually, tickles my head and is err hot." He said lamely. He wasn't sure why he was so flustered here, it was just a random bastard- probably of some importance but ultimately not someone he needed to be an idiot with. Why was he so unable to think rationally around her? That was an extremely eloquent response, the kind that the foolish Jon Snow had given when he was just a bastard in the presence of someone above his station.

He cleared his throat. "It does not hurt, in fact, it actually feels incredible. The flames chase off the cold of the incoming winter and are like the smoothest of caresses on my skin. It's a calming sensation yet also an empowering one. It also happens to look extremely cool." He wasn't sure why he had added the last part but it appeared to be the correct decision as Mya giggled at the last remark.

"I will confess that I am envious of your powers. It would be a wonderful thing to wear flames when hiking up the mountain each day."

Sansa took over the conversation, saving Jon from having to respond as they rounded a corner. "It would be nice, wouldn't it." She sighed. "Sadly that is a gift exclusive to the Targaryens. The rest of us will have to make do with bundles of clothing and sitting by the fireplace instead of in it." She gave Jon a teasing smirk at that last jab.

Jon flushed. "That was only once," he hissed out in embarrassment. "And in my defence, it was freezing cold out and I had just gotten back from spending hours miles and miles above the ground. If you had knocked before entering my room then you would have never seen anything."

Mya giggled before remembering where her place was supposed to be and falling silent as Sansa smirked in triumph at having finally got the enthusiastic girl to fall silent. It was after they rounded another corner that Sansa sparked another conversation.

"How is your Mychel Redfort doing? Should I be expecting an invitation to your wedding soon?" Sansa asked with a teasing- and an obviously false smile.

Mya frowned and her enthusiasm seemed to die within her. Jon felt the urge to lash out at Sansa for hurting this Mya Stone for some inexplicable reason? Why was he so protective of this girl he had never meant? It had to just be his guilt for not being able to protect Arya that was motivating him. He squashed down the desire to lash out at Sansa and remained silent as they walked on.

Mya was silent as well for a moment as she sulked before speaking quietly. "His father has arranged for him to be married to Lady Ysilla Royce against the both of our protests to the contrary."

By the smirk on Sansa's face as she revealed that information to the both of them, Sansa had already known about that fact. His rage simmered at her but he knew he had to remain in control and take the bait that had been offered to him by her. He did want to cheer up Mya regardless of Sansa's manipulations. "That won't happen," Jon swore honestly.

"Your Grace?" She asked in some confusion to his statement.

Jon did not hesitate to elaborate. "I've ended the abhorrent practice of slavery in all forms throughout Westeros. No longer will women be sold to husbands they don't love, every man and woman will have a choice in who they marry. No one can tell them otherwise if two people decide to be wed then they will be wed. Their father, liege Lord, or even King can not interfere with their decision. It is theirs and theirs alone."

She turned to him with wide eyes brimming with tears and stopped walking. "Th-thank you, Your Grace," She practically wept. "I-I can never repay you for this. I-I.."

Jon smiled genuinely and gently placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I assure you that there is nothing to repay. I only did what any decent man would do; no one should have to suffer like Sansa or my da-trothed did in a forced marriage to a man they do not love. She was a slave to her husband and I will not let anyone experience the same thing if I can stop it; and as the King I am the only one with the power to do so. I didn't do it just for you but for everyone who has been forced into such an awful situation in the past. I did it for my children, and your children, and everyone who comes after us so they can experience a better life free from the wheel of oppression."

She wiped away her tears fiercely and turned away from him and out of his grip. "We're here, Your Grace," She said, doing her best to reign in her wild emotions. "Yours is the room on the left, Alayne is in the smaller one on the right. If you need anything just give a holler and a steward will come tend to you. Dinner should be in around an hour. Either I or another steward will come to fetch you when it is time for supper. After supper I believe is when Lord Robin plans on hosting the summit on your behalf."

Jon resisted the urge to reach out and touch her again. Why was he being so clingy to a complete stranger? He wasn't even like this with Rickon anymore, only with his Daenerys did he behave in such a manner. It had to be what had happened with Arya that was making him so overprotective of this stranger who only vaguely reminded him of her. He was not usually like this and he couldn't continue to be like this, he needed to gain a hold of himself. He had to be in control or else he would lose his Kingdoms.

Still, in spite of all of that, he couldn't help but smile at her. "Thank you so much for your help Lady Mya. I look forward to seeing you again at that time."

She beamed. "No thank you, Your Grace." She bowed once more and then turned away from him and receded from him. She walked at a brisk pace as she made her escape but with even more enthusiasm than when they had first met. There was an extra spring in her step and she seemed to exude happiness.

The dragon in his chest roared with pleasure at how he had caused her such joy. He tried to tear his eyes away from her but found himself unable to until she was completely out of his line of sight. It was like a moth being drawn to a flame, he was helpless to resist her allure. He wasn't attracted to her in the slightest, she was moderately pretty but her beauty did not compare at all to that of his Daenerys. Yet she was so attention-grabbing. Did he care so little for Arya that he would just try to replace her now that she had gotten damaged? Was that what he was doing? Replacing the sister who had just suffered beyond belief and was no longer the same person that he remembered, with a complete stranger who happened to be similar in a handful of ways to who she had once been? Was he that much of a monster?

Sansa cleared her throat and tore Jon's attention towards her. She gestured with her head towards his room and Jon nodded before pushing the door open and stepping inside. He was quickly joined by Sansa in his room who immediately rushed to close the door behind her.

"Please do not tell me you have a crush on Mya!" She demanded incessantly.

Jon did not flush at Sansa's accusation. He could deal with her just as he did with everyone else- well everyone except Mya Stone for some inexplicable reason. "Of course not, I was simply being kind- as any decent human being would be." He couldn't help but add the not so subtle jab at Sansa's behavior towards her so called friend. She had been outright cruel to her.

Sansa as per usual ignored his explanation, too convinced that she was right about this. "You can not enter into a relationship with her of all people. Apart from needing to honor your marriage agreement and stay faithful to Daenerys Targaryen; in hopes of avoiding another dance of the dragons- she is a bastard- and a Baratheon one at that. Even if she could forgive you for not remaining celibate before your marriage, sleeping with a Baratheon bastard would be a slap in her face. Being born a bastard is already a stain on you but marrying one would be a slap in the face to all the people you plan to rule over. More so, you would be giving Petyr what he wants..." He tuned out the rest of her rant to lost in the revelation she had just given to him.

Jon froze. That certainly complicated things but also explained some things. She was a Baratheon that was why Baelish had chosen her as their escort. He wanted to see how he would behave around the daughter of the man who had killed his birth father. He needed to have an accurate assessment of Jon's mental state and character in order to manipulate him. Sansa had warned him that he would cause measured chaos to advance his goals, this wouldn't destroy his campaign but he would cause bumps in the road and now they were forced to play nice with a Baratheon.

More importantly than her being a Baratheon, she was a Targaryen by blood. She had recently inherited the blood of the dragon and that was why Jon had felt so protective over her, he had been drawn to her Valyrian blood. He knew Rhaegal had a much more friendly disposition towards those of Valyrian blood. The blood sang to him and made him much more trusting and willing to engage with. He knew that Rhaegal was naturally hostile towards those without any traces of Valyrian blood. Whereas Rhaegal could just sense if they had it or not just by interacting with someone, Jon could not. He never had been able to even as Rhaegal, that was only the word of Rhaegal and his awareness of his dragon's mind that had shown him what he was sensing.

Jon had no such ability and that was a major problem. He had been clueless as to why he had been so drawn to Mya until Sansa had told him who she was. She could have manipulated him into doing something and Jon wasn't sure he would have known to resist her. His instincts had saved his life and guided him for so long. His ability to accurately judge people and assess their intentions was a valuable skill that he placed very high stock in. He could no longer count on his own judgement. Was his trust in Lyanna Mormont based on her secretly having some Valyrian blood? Was he imagining her loyalty and character to fit what her blood told him? Was Davos also of Valyrian descent and was that why he had trusted the hand of Stannis so easily? He had thought it was because he had judged him a good man but his judgment was clearly suspect by this point. He had also thought Stannis was a good honorable man and he had been wrong there. He had likely only thought that because of his Valyrian heritage. Was Tormund even secretly Valyrian?

Jon pinched his brow and ran his hands through the flames that danced around on his scalp. He was being ridiculous. He hadn't even known that Rhaegal existed when he had decided to trust Tormund and Davos; and even Stannis. His Targaryen blood couldn't be to blame for his weakness to it or else it would have affected his Daenerys just as much as him if not more since she had always had the Targaryen gifts- Jon had only gained them after becoming Rhaegal. He couldn't go down this route or else he would never trust anyone ever again and his interactions with Sansa had shown him he had to trust at least a little. He had to work with people to stop the Long Night and he couldn't do that if he ignored his instincts every time he spoke with someone. He had to trust himself at the very least. He knew about this weakness now and could take countermeasures against it. Some of the Lords of the Vale might have Valyrian blood but family trees were easy to find and something he had spent some time studying in preparation for this meeting. If he knew they had Valyrian blood then he would know not to trust his instincts with them. It was only the bastards like Mya whose parentage he didn't know that he had to question his judgment with.

Sansa smacked his arm drawing him out of his reverie. "Are you even listening to me, Jon? Stop daydreaming about Mya and remember that you are supposed to be a King!"

Jon grimaced and sighed. He obviously couldn't tell Sansa why he had really been so drawn to Mya. He wouldn't give her a method she could easily use to control him. No one could know about his weakness to Valyrians aside from his Daenerys, he needed her to be able to verify things for him when his judgment was questionable in a matter. He wouldn't be able to have any say in the handling of Valyrian's being tried due to his natural trust towards them that override his natural instincts and intuition. He knew that she wouldn't use it against him, she had no reason to seeing as anything she could do with that information even if she had nefarious intentions which Jon knew she did not; she could already do with herself and not some stand-in. He would be vulnerable to her regardless of if she was aware of his weakness. He knew she was trustworthy and that wasn't just her blood speaking.

"I wasn't daydreaming about Lady Mya as you put it," Jon said with another sigh. He forced a weak smile to his face before quickly shifting his expression back into a frown. "I was thinking about Arya."

"The reason why I was so willing to open up and be friendly with her, why I wanted to protect her so badly is because her youthful exuberance and energy reminded me of Arya- or at least how she was before... I felt guilty for how the life had been crushed out of Arya- I know it wasn't entirely my fault, but I didn't want her to lose her energy as Arya did." He was simply stating what his initial internal rationale had been but as painful and unwise as it was to even think about Arya right now, he knew she would accept the explanation.

"I was also reminded a bit of myself I suppose. She was trampled and considered worthless just like I was by society. I saw a kindred spirit to my sufferings and latched on to her. I'm aware of how foolish it was, and it won't happen again." He squashed down the guilt that he felt for using what had happened to Arya to his advantage. He had no other choice. Not using the situation to break the wheel would not help anyone or undo what had happened to her.

Sansa's next actions surprised Jon more than possible any of her previous decisions. She didn't protest his logic at all or argue against him in any form. She didn't even use words to respond. Instead, she stepped towards him and hugged him.

Her words were like ice on his skin. "What happened to Arya is awful, and is not something I want to just forget about but we have no choice. You have to remain focused today, if you need to grieve and rage or latch onto any kindred spirits once we are back in the North then do so. I will likely do the same. It wasn't your fault what happened to her but it is still painful to even imagine. Right now, as awful as it was, we have to compartmentalize and stay focused on why we are here. Any distraction, no matter what it is, can not be tolerated in any form."

She pulled away from him and brushed off the ashes that had fallen from his crown onto her hair. "I'll leave you alone Jon. I'm sorry for being inconsiderate but I have to be. Whatever you need to do to clear your mind, find peace with what happened- even just temporarily, just make sure that you do it before dinner." She grinned mischievously and added on one more thing with a teasing grin. "Even if that means sitting in the fireplace for an hour."

She left and Jon sighed. He was mostly handling what had happened to Arya after that first conversation with Sansa but the new revelation he did need time alone to process. He glanced at the fireplace where a laze was roaring in the hearth, perhaps he would take Sansa up on her suggestion. Ideally, he would go for a flight on Rhaegal but he didn't have the time for that and Rhaegal deserved a chance to rest. The fire would be a proper substitute for the time being, it had been too long since he bathed in flames after all.

---

"Lord Arryn, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," Jon said with a slight incline of his head as he took his seat at the table seated directly to the left of the young lord. "Sansa has told me much about you. Of your tremendous bravery and honor."

Lord Arryn shifted under his praise and tugged on the collar of his gambeson. "It's a pleasure to see you as well King Grace," he replied.

Jon couldn't help but chuckle slightly at that form of address. Someone was clearly nervous or perhaps just a halfwit like Sansa had claimed. Sickly and frail were certainly apt descriptions so why wouldn't the rest of it be the same way?

Lord Baelish smiled from his seat to the right of Lord Arryn but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sweetrobin, I believe the proper address for King Jon is either King Jon or Your Grace; not King Grace."

Jon forced a smile. "No need for us to be so formal, Lord Robin. You are my sister's kin and will soon serve as my own squire. I'd like for us to know each other more than as just King and subject but actually be friends. I insist that you just call me Jon while in private."

Did Jon really want to be referred to by his given name when speaking with Lord Robin? Not particularly but it was the tactically wise choice. He needed to gain the trust and adoration of Lord Arryn so when the time came that Petyr Baelish had outlived his usefulness, he would still retain the loyalty of the Vale. With Robin as his squire, he was in the unique position to steal his loyalty from Baelish.

He had been a bit surprised when Baelish had been the one to insist on Robin as his squire. He was confused as to why he would knowingly place Robin in a place where his loyalties could shift but it made some sense if the boy truly was as dimwitted and naive as Sansa believed. Robin was the perfect unwitting spy. As Jon's squire, he would be by his side at almost all times and overhear many of his private conversations he was also too naive and dimwitted to keep what he learned a secret from his ever so trusted Uncle Petyr. He was knowingly giving Lord Baelish a spy on all of his plans. He hated that but he had to do it. He had to trust that Baelish would protect his own self-interest above all else and that meant not betraying Jon yet. He couldn't refuse Robin as his squire or else he could lose the Vale and he needed that more than a squire he could trust.

Lord Robin shifted in his seat once more and stabbed at a carrot with his fork, missing and causing it to roll off his plate onto the floor. "You can call me Robin then," The little boy decided without looking up from his plate of food that he was stabbing at incessantly.

"So tell me, Robin, how good are you at using a sword?" Jon asked after only a brief moment trying to build up some form of rapport with the stunted ten-year-old boy.

Lord Robin glanced up from his plate. "I'm the best in the entire world, Mother always said so. I use my sword to cut down the bad guys like this, and this, and this." He swished his fork through the air enthusiastically, brandishing it like a sword and made slashing motions with the fork, one with terrible form mind you. It was clear that the boy in spite of his boasting about his skills with a sword had no or at least very little experience holding one.

Sansa leaned over from beside him and whispered in his ear. "He's never actually been allowed to hold a sword in real life. He is quite good with an imaginary one though." Sansa whispered confirming his suspicions.

"That's good. I can't wait to be the one who learns from you then, I'm afraid I am not the best swordsman in the entire world. We can both learn from each other but I will likely be the one who learns more from this arrangement seeing as how you're the best swordsman in the entire world. Perhaps it should be me as your squire instead." Jon teased. He knew that wasn't at all true but he also knew that Lord Arryn required positive reinforcement and adored being praised. He also seemed to be too stupid to recognize sarcasm or lies. Jon wasn't sure if that last part was good or not for Jon's goals. He was easier for Jon to manipulate but also easier to manipulate against him.

Lord Baelish chuckled at that remark. '"Let's not get too hasty, Your Grace, I'm afraid that Sweetobin is still too young to have a squire of his own. Perhaps when he is of age you could squire under him, but for now, we will have to stick with the current arrangement." Lord Baelish joked with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Jon forced another smile. "That appears to be the case, unfortunately. So tell me Robin, have you ever ridden on a horse? Can you joust?" He needed to know the answer if he wanted to properly teach Lord Robin Arryn as his squire and he did want to do that. He needed to keep Lord Arryn happy to keep the Vale which meant he couldn't be too hard on the kid and had to constantly suck up to his fragile self-esteem. Surely the kid would have some skills in a field and they could hone his training on that one part. A man didn't have to be able to be a master of one thing.

Lord Robin scoffed. "Of course I have. My mother would always take me riding with her when she had to leave the Eyrie. I'm the best rider in all of the Seven Kingdoms. I won a tourney already and I'll win a hundred- no a thousand more."

''Oh?" Jon asked in some disbelief and with a slight note of mocking that thankfully Lord Arryn did not pick up on. "What tourney did you win?" Surely it had to be some tourney for just other children, playing at real combat and not a real tourney. The boy was only twelve after all. Still, it was encouraging that he had ridden a horse before and was apparently good at it. Jon wasn't great with a Lance himself but he at least had a foundation to teach Robin from there. Or perhaps he would teach him to use a bow like he had taught Arya. That was a good long-distance weapon that he could use from horseback and would keep the frail and very important child out of any conflicts as while as relatively safe and hopefully alive.

Lord Robin puffed up his chest with pride. "I won the tourney of The Dragon Falcon. I unseated Ser Jamie, Ser Barristan, King Daeron, and even Aegon the Conquerer in the final tilt!"

Jon couldn't quite stop himself from groaning audibly. The boy had not won any tourneys and had likely never ridden a horse before. He was delusional and clearly incapable of telling reality from his fantasies. Jon squashed down the small bit of triumph he felt deep down at the fact that Targaryens clearly weren't the only ones who could go mad. This boy was madder than most Targaryens had ever been. Was the Vale really worth taking on a headcase as his squire? He knew it was but it didn't feel that way right now.

Jon shook himself. He wouldn't think that way, not again. He was not going to fall back into the wheel and push people down for things beyond their control. Lord Arryn didn't choose to be born this way and Jon wouldn't discriminate against him for it as everyone else did. He was not willing to be a part of the wheel anymore, he and his Daenerys wanted to break the wheel and by scorning Lord Arryn as frustrating as this was, he would just be giving into the wheel. He would not fall into that trap once more. The world would change and all men and women would be equal in all things.

"I think we'll start with archery then, it's a good weapon to start with. A bow is simple and requires very little strength- not that you are at all lacking there, of course, but it will be an easy weapon to start with. You can shoot arrows from horseback and stay out of the fray during the battle until you grow older."

Lord Baelish nodded in agreement. "It's a sensible decision, Your Grace, I am glad that you are prioritizing Lord Robin's safety over all else. As his guardian, it is good to know that his safety will always be your top priority."

"I don't want to stay safe or stay out of the battle!" Lord Robin whined turning quite a few heads towards them. "I want to be in the midst of it, and kill all the bad guys with my sword. I want to be the hero and have songs written about me and my bravery. I want all of the glory and my name to be remembered in the annuls of history!"

This was all Baelish's fault, a few choice words and he had Lord Robin whining about his new position. Was he wrong to trust that Baelish would want him on the throne so he could have it? Was he wrong to trust Sansa and he knew about how Jon wanted them to believe Sansa was his heir so he could have his support? Had he chosen to side with the Lannisters instead?

Except that wasn't what this was. If Baelish had chosen the Lannisters he would have simply killed them when they arrived and sent their heads to King's Landing. He wouldn't have caused Lord Arryn to scream at him in the dining hall. His goal was clearly to get the Vale to doubt him while also agreeing to fight for him so once he and Sansa moved to usurp Jon, the Vale would not mourn him too greatly or care really if there was foul play. He was assuring that their loyalty remained to him first and foremost, with Jon as a second at best. It was clever, and even knowing what Baelish was doing he couldn't do anything to stop it if he wanted the Vale's armies even if not their hearts. He only needed their swords after all.

"You're mistaken Lord Baelish," Jon said sounding much calmer than he felt. "I do not want Lord Robin out of the battle to keep him safe. I do want that but that's not why he should be kept at the back. Lord Robin is the Lord of the Vale, and my Warden of the East. He is not a simple soldier but he will be a natural leader and commander. The commander does not enter into the fray with their soldiers. They are the most important piece and must be protected because without them the entire army falls. He will stay in the back because that is where the most powerful leaders should always be. He is too important to lose and it is the commanders who get all the glory in songs and legends. They get credit for every "bad guy" that is killed by their army."

Lord Robin beamed and Jon exhaled slightly in relief. That crisis was averted it seemed. He hadn't even had to completely bullshit that explanation. Robin was ultimately too important for Jon to risk his death in battle. Baelish would lose the authority to give them the Vale if Lord Robin died. He would lose a third of his army for letting a small boy play around in war. He would likely only ever be a leader in name only but he was the most important piece in the Vale army and almost completely irreplaceable.

"I still don't want to use a stupid bow!" Robin said petulantly although he appeared to have mellowed out some at the very least.

"Oh?" He said with a raised eyebrow. "Then what would you like to start with?" Jon had no plan to actually do what Robin requested but he would hear him out so he could try to reason with the child and convince him that the bow was better.

"I want to wield fire!" Robin exclaimed gleefully. "I want to burn the bad guys like you do! I want to ride a dragon and rain fire down on my enemies from above. I don't want to use some stupid bow or sword but to use fire as my weapon to kill all of the bad men. I want to learn how to not be hurt by the fire as you are."

Jon stared at the clearly delusional and stupid child blankly. How could he be so delusional that he would think Jon could teach him how to not be hurt by fire? He was no Targaryen. That was his and his Daenerys's gift, not a teachable skill for whoever wanted to learn. Even if Jon could teach him to be immune to fire, and ride a dragon he would refuse to do so. He was some random child emotionally and physically stunted. He was no Targaryen and was unworthy of being a dragon. If he could teach anyone, which he couldn't, but if he could it would be Arya not Lord Robin. Heck, he might even teach Sansa before this entitled brat.

Thankfully, Sansa saved Jon from having to formulate a response to Robin's demand. "I'm afraid that's not possible, my Sweetrobin." She said softly, reaching across Jon's lap to place her hand on Robin's. "The ability to wear fire, and ride a dragon is something hereditary. Only Targaryens can do them, it's not something he can teach you to do at all. Just like how only Arryn's can have a moon door, only Targaryens get fire."

Robin still looked a little put out by that information but he was at least seemingly accepting of the impossibility of his request. He nodded slightly and glowered at his plate. The room relaxed and they fell into an awkward silence at the High Table as the rest of the room resumed their discussions. Robin didn't attempt to eat anything more but he didn't complain or cause any fuss, which was as good as they could hope for at this point.

After a moment, Baelish decided to cheer the young Lord up. "Even though you can't have a dragon of your own, I'm sure that King Jon will take you for a ride on his dragon's back sometimes."

Jon scowled as Lord Robin turned towards him with bright eyes, his enthusiasm restored. "Can I?" He pleaded.

"Absolutely not. Rhaegal won't let anyone but I or his mother ride on his back. He is not a slave to ferry around whoever I ask him to. He only gives rides to people other than me when strictly necessary." Jon was adamant about that. He had promised Rhaegal that he wouldn't force him to transport any passengers except when strictly necessary and he was a man of his word. Rhaegal was no slave but a dragon, not a horse for men to ride whenever and wherever they pleased. Perhaps if it was one ride that secured the loyalty of the Vale the same way Visenya got their fealty then he would but that was hardly the case. Lord Robin was clearly a spoiled child who wouldn't be satisfied with just one dragon ride and as his squire, he would both expect and demand to get to ride more often. There was no need for him to ride when he already had the Vale for the time being and he wouldn't needlessly hurt Rhaegal. He was not a monster.

"I am the Lord of the Eyrie!" He screeched loud enough that every eye in the room turned towards them. "I decide what I can do, not anyone else! When I want something I get it! I want to ride a dragon so I will ride a dragon!"

To Jon's dismay, Lord Robin began to seize uncontrollably. The boy flailed about recklessly and knocked over the pitcher on wine resting in front of them onto Jon's plate, soiling his steak. Lord Robin's fist slammed into the mashed potatoes on his own plate and that went splat as well. A foot lashed out and connected with Jon's shin, causing a sharp jolt of pain to run up Jon's side.

Lord Baelish was quick to his feet. "Guards, take Lord Robin back to bed and leech him." He ordered. "Maester Coleman, give the young Lord a mix of dreamwine and milk of the poppy to help him rest."

As the men went to carry out the tasks Baelish had assigned them and the guards hefted a still flailing Lord Robin into their arms, Baelish turned towards Jon. He gave a deep bow and did not rise out of it even as he addressed Jon. "My humblest of apologies, Your Grace, for that debacle." He said emotionally. "I ask that you do not punish Sweetrobin for the incident. If anyone must be punished for the incident then it should be me as his guardian." He sighed wearily. "I'm afraid that after his mother's death he has been inconsolable and his fits have increased in frequency. The incident has been hard on us all but especially on her Sweetrobin."

Jon wanted to punish the stupid Lord Robin for the incident or at least remove him as his squire but the same things that held true when he had initially agreed to the arrangement still held true today. He needed the support of the Vale and any disrespect towards their beloved Lord, even as weak and pathetic as he was; would hurt his cause. He had no choice but to pardon him this once. He was just a child and it wasn't like Olly who had killed him but just thrown a fit and made a mess of dinner. He had to be wise and that meant showing mercy here.

Jon pursed his lips. "I am not in the business of punishing children for the sins of their fathers, nor am I in favor of doing the inverse. I will not hold this incident against either you or Lord Robin as long as it does not happen again. Any repeats of this incident will see Lord Robin removed as my squire, and removed from your guardianship in favor of a more capable Lord Protector who can properly raise the Lord of the Vale."

Baelish nodded and uprighted himself. "Thank you for your mercy, Your Grace."

---

Dinner had been a tense affair and now that they had re-allocated to the High Hall it was finally time to meet with the Lords Declarant and gain their fealty and sworn service. Jon was seated at the highest chair, over a dozen feet above the rest, towering over them as their King even if they hadn't yet accepted it. The chair was adorned with the crest of Falcons and House Arryn and was a beautiful cream-colored metal. It had once been the throne of the Arryn's when they were Kings and now Jon was sitting in their place as the new King of the Vale and the rest of the seven kingdoms as well.

Sansa was standing to his right a few steps down, and Baelish to her left a bit a further down as Lord Protector of the Vale. In a perfect world, Jon would have Lord Robin here as well and seated upon the highest dais but after the dinner accident that quite frankly was no longer possible. They had to have this meeting without the public support of Lord Robin.

Once all the Lords had seated themselves below him, Baelish stepped forward to address them. "On behalf of Lord Robin, and his Grace, King Jon, I thank you all for gathering here today and welcome you to the Eyrie. As he is the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, he has a claim to the Iron Throne and he has asked us to gather here today to renew our oaths of fealty to Houses Stark and Targaryen. To reaffirm our loyalty to the crown. The King has asked us to gather here today to hear him out, and request our aid in his quest to reclaim the throne from the Lannisters. He has sworn that regardless of what is chosen by all the Lords here, they will be allowed to leave the Eyrie unmolested and return to their homes, in accordance with the ancient traditions of guest right. So please speak honestly, and freely, there will be no reprisals for what is said here today."

"I ask that we all rise and welcome King Jon of Houses Stark and Targaryen. Rightful King of the Andals, the Rhyonar, and the First Men; Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. The unburnt, the resurrected one, and the Father of Dragons."

Maybe half the room rose, it was already a much frothier reception then he had received in the North, and he had yet to introduce the more controversial plans of theirs yet. Perhaps they already knew of them and that was why they were so hostile.

Baelish stepped back and Jon knew it was his turn to get their surrender and support. "I am King Jon of Houses Stark and Targaryen, and as the last living son of the Crown Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, I am the rightful heir to the Iron Throne by the laws of Westeros. I have asked Lord Robin to gather you all here today to back my claim to the Iron Throne, and ask that you will fight on my behalf in all of the wars to come."

"I realize that the Vale chose to stay mostly uninvolved in the war of the five Kings and I respect that choice, but it is not one that you can make again. The Vale was able to stay uninvolved last time because of how many sides there were in that war. This time there is only two sides. The return of the Targaryen dynasty, or supporting a Lannister bastard's claim to the Iron Throne."

"I realize that Lord Jon Arryn fought to remove the Targaryen dynasty, and place Robert of the House Baratheon upon the Iron Throne. The Vale bled to remove the Mad King from his seat of power. The Targaryens were your enemy only a few short years ago, and now I am asking you to be our greatest ally. That is not what the Arryns' stand for. That is not what is honorable when you swore fealty to the House Baratheon. To break that oath while Robert's son sits the Iron Throne would be a betrayal worthy of the Freys."

"The truth is plain as day that this is not the case, House Baratheon is dead. King Robert died with no children of his own, his brother Stannis became the rightful heir after that. Stannis Baratheon slayed his brother Renly dishonourably and became the sole living male Baratheon. Stannis Baratheon marched on the Boltons at Wintefell, and murdered his only daughter as a sacrifice to his God to give him victory. He lost and House Baratheon died out.

"House Targaryen has historically been an ally of House Arryn, and the rest of the Vale, and it was only under the Mad King's reign that the Arryns fought against us. The bastard Joffrey Waters was born of incest between the Queen Cersei Lannister and the Kingslayer. He had no claim to the Iron Throne, as a Lannister. Myrcella and Tommen Waters fall under the same purview. There are no more trueborn Baratheons left in the world. It was Tommen's mother who murdered Jon Arryn all those years ago. The Lannisters have wronged House Arryn and you are betraying them by siding with Tommen Waters."

"Who are you to call King Tommen a bastard? Ser Symond Templeton snarled. "You are one yourself, in case you've forgotten. You have even less of a claim to the throne of King Tommen's father. The High Septon himself has declared Tommen as legitimate and the rightful King of Westeros. You are just a bastard who is trying to reach beyond his station and dealing with matters beyond his understanding."

He heard murmurs in agreement and Jon had to take a moment to force himself to remain calm even as they insulted him to his face. "The entire world knows of the affair between Cersei and Jamie Lannister that resulted in the former's execution. I was legitimized by King Robb Stark, and am now considered a trueborn son by the ancient laws of inheritance. Even if that was not the case, I would still sit on the throne as King since my betrothed, Daenerys Targaryen is a trueborn Targaryen and the heir if we discount Robb's legitimization of me."

"Robb Stark was no King of mine! His legitimization holds no weight here." Lord Lipps shouted out. "No woman will ever rule the Vale!" Another man shouted out.

Jon scowled at them. "A woman has just as much right to claim the crown as any man. A woman and man are equals, neither resides above the other."

"The Seven Pointed Star says; As a wife bows to their husbands, men bow to their lords, and lords to their kings, so kings and queens must bow before the Seven Who Are One." Lord Moore quoted. "Who are you to decry the words of the Gods? You are nothing but a Northern heathen."

Jon's scowl deepened. "The Seven Pointed Star was written a thousand years ago, when the world was a very different place. Perhaps, you are taking the words of the Seven too literally. Should we hinder progress because the author of the ancient tome did not foresee the way the world is now? The spirit of the word is more important than the letter of it." Jon would be honest and admit that he had no clue what scripture Lord Moore was quoting which is why he went with such a generic response. He had read the Seven-Pointed Star before, especially after his resurrection and his realization that he needed to be King but never in great deal and he had memorized almost none of it.

"You are no Septon, who are you to interpret the higher mysteries of the Gods? Lord Ruthermont demanded rising to his feet. "The High Septon speaks of all us being equal in the sight of the Gods yes, but his holiness makes it clear that a husband still lords over his wife, and a father over his daughters. You mean to force your ungodly northern ways onto us, and force us to abide by your decrees that go against our faith. House Ruthermont will not betray their Gods and go along with this. We will not bend the knee to Jon Snow." He turned and left the High Hall behind.

Lord Shett leaped to his feet. "I am in agreement with Lord Ruthermont. You are nothing but a bastard, and a blasphemer. I will not fight for a King who my Gods do not respect. The Seven-Pointed Star speaks of bastardy as a great sin, and warns bastards are not to be trusted. That is all you are, despite what you proclaim and dress yourself as. A bastard, Jon Snow. You are no King of mine." He too exited the room without swearing fealty of any kind, maybe a dozen more Lords followed him out. Jon frowned. This was going terrible, and he had already lost a third of his hopeful army here.

"Tell me, Your Grace, do you plan on taking power from the faith? Do you plan on disbanding the faith militant and leaving yourself as the only superpower in Westeros?" Lord Egen asked quietly.

Jon could lie here and perhaps he should but a Kingdom built on a foundation of lies would never hold together through the storm. And make no mistake but the storm was coming and only united could they win. The faith militant very much needed to be checked and it was in a lot of ways the wheel that needed to break. They would likely never be his allies, no matter what he did to make amends with them. He just needed people to see that the faith was wrong in some things. "I do. The faith militant have wreaked havoc on all of Westeros. Their rule over the region has stomped out many lives for sins that shouldn't even be considered sins. The times have changed, but the High Septon insists that the law remains the same. Why should a man and woman suffer different punishments for the same crimes? They shouldn't. I don't plan on disregarding the faith or taking control of their operations but they need to change, they need to modernize if they want to retain any power."

Lord Egen nodded. "I want Tommen Waters removed from the throne as much as anyone, but I will not offer you any aid in trampling my faith. House Egen will remain neutral in this war.

Thankfully, no one followed him out this time, and no one spoke up again so Jon moved onto the address the next item on the docket with the men that remained. "I thank those of you who remain for their willingness to see change done in this world."

"I and the Queen Danerys do not plan to settle with just giving women a place in the line of inheritance or as equals to men in power. We plan on ending slavery in all of its many forms throughout Westeros. That is not limited to owning workers as property but also being allowed to command your wife and children to do things without any ability to choose for themselves. Arranged marriages are no longer legal under our rule, every man and woman will choose for themselves who they marry."

"We have no intention to steal anyone's land or titles from them. We do not plan on usurping the positions of any existing Lords in favor of their elder sister. Only the succession crises that occurs from this day forth. I understand that men do not want to give their lands over to other houses and I sympathize with them in that regard and will not force them to do so. Any noble-women who chooses to marry a noble-born husband must agree to give up any claim to the lands of their house when they do so, or their husband must agree that they and their children will take the woman's name or else they will be removed from the line of succession entirely. In the event that all living scions bearing the name if their house have passed, only then will the children of those who chose to marry out of the family be allowed to inherit the lands; and .even then they still must take on the family name of the family whom the lands they are claiming belong too. House Stark will always hold Winterfell, House Tully will always hold Riverrun, and House Arryn will hold the Vale forevermore as long as they keep good faith with those in power over them."

"I refuse to stand for it," Lord Elesham declared. "As the head of my house, it is my place to decide who all members of my household marry and what lands they inherit. I rule over my house, not the King. That is the way it has always been and I will not stand for some Northern heathen coming in, and changing our way of life."

Jon grinned to himself even as he remained outwardly stoic. It was all too easy to get the Lords to take the bait on this part of his agenda and sign their own death warrant here, just as the Northerners did. "Maester Coleman," He called out. "Can you share with us all how the citadel defines a slave?"

Maester Coleman flinched slightly at unexpectedly being called on but nodded and responded all the same. "The citadel defines a slave as a person who is the lawful property of another person and a person without the choice to refuse their masters, Your Grace."

Jon rounded back to Lord Elesham with his brow furrowed in anger and a dark look fell over his countenance. "Tell me, my Lord, does not what you just described sound exactly like how the citadel defines slavery? Have you just confessed to having slaves of your own? Perhaps you would like to reconsider your position on this matter?"

Lord Elesham trembled under Jon's harsh glare but he was not the one who responded to him. Lord Yohn Royce shot to his feet in a rage. "Do not try to twist our words around and use them to suit your own ends." He bellowed loudly. "I planned on standing with you for who your uncle was and the friendship we had but it is clear you are not a Stark, in spite, of what you claim. Your uncle respected the law and had the honor to follow it as it was written. He understood the intent of it and not just the letter of it. Your uncle understood that Lords were to arrange the best marriages for their sons and daughters; he did the same himself for his own children. Your bastardy is painfully evident in your acts and deeds. Only a bastard would be so conniving and underhanded in their manipulations. You, Jon Snow, are as dishonorable as any man I've ever met and you've brought shame on House Stark. House Royce will offer you no aid in your rebellion."

Lord Yohn Royce stood and left the room with his cousin Lord Nestor Royce Lord of the Gates of the Moon following behind him. Yohn left and Nestor stood in the doorway, and glanced back, clearly hesitant. He looked over at Sansa before ducking his head, and stepping out as well. Jon had managed to lose one of the houses that he had been a hundred percent confident they would gain the loyalty of. Even in the worst-case scenario, they were supposed to stand with him.

It wasn't just the Lord Royces who left there either. The boldness of those Lords leaving inspired others to do the same and another dozen lords including Lord Elesham left him standing there, without bending the knee to him. There were maybe half of the Lords who had been there at the beginning who remained there to hear him out. He had yet to even mention the army of dead men congregating beyond the wall. That was the one goal he had to prioritize not the other ones. Breaking the wheel could have waited until after the Long Night. The Long Night should have come first but he was the son of Eddard Stark, not Rhaegar Targaryen despite what Lord Royce had claimed. He would be honest and upfront about most of his goals, instead of reversing course once he had the throne. He would manipulate people into accepting his rule but he would not be dishonest in his manipulations. Honor might have gotten him killed but he still had a smidgeon of it.

"I thank those of you who remain once again for your willingness to pioneer the new world with me." He couldn't stop some of his frustration over how many of the Lords had abandoned him from bleeding through, try as he might. "I wish that could be the only reason I want to take the throne from the Lannisters but it is not even close to that."

"During my time at the wall, I realized there was a greater threat to the realm and the world at large than any Wildling, Lannister, Frey, or even Targaryen. I learned that beyond the wall there are things stirring that have not been stirred for years. There is a threat so great that no Kingdom can stand alone against and have even a small chance at survival."

"As impossible as it might seem, the Others are real and they are stirring beyond the wall with the intent of crossing it and bringing the eternal night to the rest of the world. The ice monster's with the strength of a hundred men, and an army of dead men, at least two-hundred thousand strong. I realize how absurd this sounds but I assure you that it is the truth."

"The truth?" Lord Redfort scoffed. "You tell us of impossible things and expect us to blindly believe that you speak true? You want the truth? You are truly as mad as your grandfather. You try to tell us that our way of life is wrong and order us to mold our lives in your image. Fuck that and fuck you. House Redfort will not support some satanic bastard." Lord Redfort spat at him before turning tail and leaving the High Hall.

"I do not expect you to blindly believe anything," Jon said as he began to undo the buttons on his gambeson. "The fact that I am standing here today before you is proof that the dead can rise again. I died and remained dead for seven days and then I arose once again. If I can come back why couldn't the Others do the same and raise corpses out of their graves?" He pulled the vest open leaving his marred chest open to their hungry gaze. "I wish it were not the case, but dead men can live again and I am only the first to do so on this side of the wall."

"We must be prepared for when the Others come. We must be united so we can stand against them. I am not asking to be King so I can reclaim my family's rightful seat of power. I am not asking to be King so I can rule Westeros and enforce my will on the people. I am not asking to be King so I can live in the lap of luxury and never want for anything again. I am claiming the throne so I have the authority to stop them. I am claiming the throne so I have the authority to send all of our armies to the wall when the time comes. I am claiming the throne so that I have the authority to demand that all of the dead be burned to prevent them from rising against us. I have to make the hard choices and do whatever is necessary to survive, no matter how unpleasant it might be. I am choosing to fight for life itself."

"Do you want to know what I think?" Lord Melcolm asked rhetorically. "I think that you are lying about these Northern myths being a reality. I think that you and your bride are merely using this excuse to inflict your foreign and Northern ways on our lives. You are trying to force us to mold ourselves after your own life, to follow Targaryen and Northern traditions in place of our own. I will not stand for it. The High Septon said that the false god, the Lord of Light brought you back from the dead as his champion to poison our minds and tear us away from doing what is right, and what is good. Clearly he was right in that belief. We will not fall for your lies and deception. We will not betray our God or our King. House Melcolm will never support a bastard, even if it means our death."

He rose to his feet and he too exited the high hall. As par the course, he too inspired others to act against Jon and almost all the remaining Lords followed him out, pledging to at best remain neutral and not oppose Jon. More likely based on their words, they planned on siding with the Lannisters against him. His attempts to unite the realm had only divided it more than ever.

When the dust settled there were only six Lords of the Vale remaining in the room with them. Lord Baelish remained as Jon expected he would. He needed Jon on the throne for him and Sansa to ascend to Jon's throne. His loyal dogs, Lord Lyonel Corbray and Lord Benedar Belmore also remained. The other three houses were at least something positive that they hadn't known they would get or that Jon hadn't screwed up. He had clearly gotten at least someone on his side so maybe this whole visit wasn't entirely useless.

Lord Gerold Grafton remaining wasn't that surprising, although Jon hadn't planned for them being here in a worst-case scenario. House Grafton was one of the only Houses in the Vale who had fought on behalf of the Targaryens in Robert's Rebellion. The current Lord's father was murdered in Robert's Rebellion by Robert Baratheon himself. It was only natural that he would want vengeance against the alleged son of the man his father was killed by. It was to be expected that he would want to see the cause that his father died for realized. He might believe Jon mad, but he had fought for the Mad King so clearly that wasn't a major issue for him.

Lord Triston Sunderland wasn't someone Jon had expected the support of in any capacity but they remained behind. The Sunderland's were distant from the majority of the Vale as they Lorded over the three sisters within the bite. Jon had thought that they held no love for Targaryens but perhaps he was mistaken. They had rebelled when Aegon the Conqueror had taken the Vale and one of their own had crowned herself before their own people rebelled against the self-proclaimed Queen. In fear of Aegon's wrath, they had killed her and her brother had bent the knee to Aegon. They had been the staunchest of Blackfyre supporters and were, in fact, the only ones who sided with the Blackfyres in the entirety of the Vale. They had also fought alongside Robert Baratheon to remove the Targaryens from power. It seemed completely out of character for them to side with him.

Then again maybe it was exactly what they would do. House Sunderland had lived in the self-contained bubble of his ideal world for years. Perhaps they did just want the rest of the world to be the same way. They had crowned Marla Sunderland as Queen for a brief time even while there was still a male heir because she was the eldest. They had also fought on behalf of Rhaenyra Targaryen in the Dance although a good portion of the Vale had done so as it was the honorable thing to support the rightful heir and not the usurping younger half-sibling. They had supported a bastard's claim to the throne in the Blackfyre rebellions so perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise that they had no qualms with supporting another one.

The final House who remained in the High Hall after Jon had managed to turn every other lord away was Lord Uthor Tollett. Jon had hoped that he could count on the distant cousin of his friend in the Night's Watch but he hadn't actually depended on his support. Ed was a part of a smaller and poorer branch of the family, not the main branch that wielded power, and offered him men like the one who sat before him.

"I was skeptical when I came here," Lord Ulthor admitted in a soft voice. "I didn't plan on bending the knee to you, or getting involved at all in this rebellion." He chuckled. "I certainly didn't plan on swearing all of my forces to you, to fight against dead men."

"Eddison Tollett has been writing to us weekly for the past four moons. I've never spoken to him nor had any desire to but he came to me begging for aid repeatedly. He warned us of the Others lurking beyond the wall. The first time I received a raven I hastily discarded it. I did the same with the second and third ravens. When the fourth raven arrived and I discarded it without reading the letter, my wife took note and decided to read it herself. She found the tales of the Others, fascinating. She didn't think them real but she found the stories enthralling. She took to reading some of the northern myths for herself as the letters continued to pour in. They were just stories though, it was impossible for the myths he shared to be real."

"A little over three moons ago- after a short stoppage in the letters those letters started mentioning Jon Targaryen. The King that my cousin begged us to support because you were the only one who understood the real threat and could defeat it. His letters switched from begging us to send men to the wall, to sending men to support you. We refused his demands as they continued to pour in, if you truly were who he claimed you were then you were dead already. There was no way you could defeat the Lannisters and Boltons, sending men to you would be sending them to their deaths."

"Then somehow you had a dragon and defeated both the Lannisters and Boltons against impossible odds. Just like Eddison had assured us you would. He said to never doubt you, that you always pulled through, and urged us to ally with you and he was right. You won. You are unburnt like he claims, you do ride a dragon, and you truly did die. Magic is real, there is no denying that. You are the leader with the heart for the common folk he told us you were. The leader with the passion and drive to see the world become a better place and the one who has actually died trying before. He claims that when all is darkest it is you we should turn to and he is right."

"If this was just about the throne for you then there were better ways to do this. Eddison Tollett had no reason to write to us every week without receiving a response to request our help if there wasn't really an enemy lurking beyond the wall. I want to believe that the Others aren't real because it is easier to believe that. To believe that you are mad like your forefathers is what is safer but I cannot. I will not. You spoke with such honest conviction and gambled the throne to try to convince us that the Others are real."

"The words of House Tollett are When All is Darkest and that time has arrived. If the Great Other is truly stirring than we are in the darkest of times and House Tollett will be the flame that guides the world and shows them the path. That path is clear as day to me. I won't pretend that I agree with all of your goals but it is clear that you are the only path to survival. House Tollett will not be blind any longer to the reality of the world. We might be declared fools but it is better to be a fool than to be blind."

"I Lord Uthor Tollett hail Jon Targaryen as my King, from this day until my last day." He said loudly as he dropped to his knees.

The other five Lords soon echoed his actions but Jon still found it hard to even force a smile at the turn of events. This had been a colossal failure of the highest order. He had personally gained what? One Lord to his cause in this summit with over fifty of them?

Lord Grafton was won to his side because of the actions of Robert Baratheon. Lord's Corbray, and Belmore by Lord Baelish's influence. Even Lord Tollett was due to Edd's persistence, not his. He might have gotten the worst-case estimate of 6,000 men so it wasn't a complete failure but it still felt like one. He had lost this meeting. He just had to pray the Mountain Clans over the next week went better or else he could actually be outnumbered by the Lannisters and possibly even the Freys.

---

A few notes on this chapter but a much shorter explanation than usual since most of the behind the scenes stuff in the Vale is actually shown in the next chapter and then the rest in the upcoming Tommen chapter (31).

I realize that seatbelts didn't really exist in this time period but considering Tyrion designs a saddle for Bran that straps him in and lets him ride makes the idea perfectly consistent with the universe. I don't remember if Jon canonically ever learns of the saddle Tyrion designed for Bran but it's likely someone in Winterfell or even Edmure could have known and told him if he didn't which inspired the carriage and his own harness. I probably went too in depth on how the carriage worked but after briefly mentioning it in chapter 26 my brain wouldn't let me not figure out how exactly it would function.

Jon tells Sansa what happened to Arya and she talks some sense into him about whose fault it is due to her similar experiences. We'll get her thoughts on the revelations in the next chapter.

Jon's (And Daenerys's) plans to conquer the whole world and break the wheel everywhere is very morally questionable. Are you doing the right thing by plunging the world into war if it's to make it a better place? Is being a dictator a good thing if it betters the life of the common man? Is stealing from those with the power to empower the weakest men fair and good? Jon and Daenerys are very much the moral leaders but their choices are not always black and white. I do feel the need to clarify that Sansa's lack of empathy towards those in Westeros isn't a her being a horrible person or intentionally racist but the systematic us and them mentality that is very much prevalent in the real world.

I knew from the beginning that I didn't want to have non-Valyrians have positive interactions with dragons. Canonically they aren't friendly with those of non-Valyrian blood but I took that to another level. Rhaegal isn't going to let non-Valyrians on his back. He doesn't trust them. Jon as bonded to Rhaegal and sharing his mind is going to share some of that distrust towards non-Valyrians and easy trust and affection of Valyrians. Jon can not just detect Valyrian blood and know not to trust his senses. His mind will try to come up with alternate explanations for his trust or distrust then just blood. The amount of Valyrian blood does play a part here. Not all Valyrian heritage will be known as some people are secretly bastards or have difficult to trace backgrounds. It is absolutely a weakness of his and a huge blind spot for him. Mya Stone has a much larger purpose here than just being someone of Targaryen blood that will be revealed later. In spite of what Jon thinks, this is part of his instant easy trust in Daenerys even after she chained Rhaegal up.

Ned Stark's famous honor isn't a Northern thing like the show portrays it as but more so a product of growing up in the Vale as the ward of Jon Arryn. The Vale on its wiki page it is expressively stated "The people of the Vale, are known as reliable warriors steeped in honor and the worship of the Faith of the Seven." Those are the only things said about the personality of the people of the Vale so I leaned into it heavily. I initially had something very similar to this planned for the Riverlands with the Vale coming into the fold fairly easy but upon reading that I pivoted course. As the faith of the seven decries bastards it was never going to be easy for him to get the support of religious men due to his birth status. Twisting words and underhanded manipulation is considered dishonorable. What worked in the North did sort of dig his grave here although there is more than just that at play here.

House Sunderland is literally the only House in the Vale that sides with the Blackfyres in the first rebellion per the wiki, they obviously have no problem with bastards and are even endeared towards them. House Grafton's explanation for siding with Jon is again copy and pasted from the wiki. He gets Lord Tollett because I wanted someone to be persuaded and I wanted Ed to do something since he's kind of lost a clear role without being Lord Commander.

Jon has really had a terrible day so far. He learns that Arya was raped and fails to get almost the entire Vale. A day that will continue in the next Jon chapter as he meets with the various Mountain Clans and tries to gain their loyalty. (Also that chapter has reflection on what went wrong here and what not).

The next chapter is probably my favorite chapter of the story so far as we go back to Sansa's POV for what is essentially a Baelish chapter. Unless I forget what day it is again, it should be out on Friday.