They find nothing in Highgarden. It is completely empty, just like Olenna told them it would be.
Daenerys brought all her dragons to this trip, not just the one they are mounting on. "Whoever is on the throne now, I want them to see my dragons. My full power." It is slightly terrifying, so he decides to just nod along.
After failing to find a single person, alive or dead, in Highgarden, they trace the steps to King's Landing. For hours, there is nothing. Then, Daenerys sees a red castle. "We're nearing the capital", she announces. He perks from his position behind her to see it: the infamous Red Keep. "Viserys told me there is a dragonpit in one of the hills", she continues. "We'll circle the city—see if people were already turned to wights—and then land there. There is no way we won't draw attention."
"Let's just hope this attention won't get us killed", he mumbles. She doesn't seem to hear him as she flies around the city. He shifts in order to get a glimpse of whatever might be happening on the ground.
He can't hear screams, but it's easy to assume there are those, for people are running aimlessly, in a thoughtless reaction to the dragons. Is that how she plans to conquer the city and the realm? By force and fear? He hopes not. His father earned his men's respect, and so has he—to the point the North all but threw a crown at him after the battle against Ramsay. Daenerys seems to have earned her soldiers' respect as well, though he doesn't know enough of her story to check how loyal they truly are to her.
"People are running", she tells him, unaware he can see it, "but they look human. We should head to the dragon point."
"Aye", he replies, and feels her changing her course of flight. The sudden movement pulls him back to his original position, so he can't see anything now.
They quickly reach the dragonpit, but something makes Daenerys stop on her tracks. "It's crowded", she tells him. "We won't be able to land without harming people."
"Then find somewhere else", he tells her matter-of-factly. "Can't you see any other place?"
"I'm looking!", she exclaims, a bit irritated. "It needs to—wait. The guy over there, he's…" He sees her move her head to the right. "There are some ruins over there. Large enough for the dragons."
"It must be where the Sept of Baelor once was", he supplies. He's heard of the explosion not so long ago.
She doesn't answer; instead, she rides to the direction of the ruins.
At first, they are surrounded by common folk, who stare at the dragons in a mix of awe and horror. None of them approach Daenerys, though, and he hides himself between two of the beasts. Then, a strong male voice orders the people to disperse. It takes a moment, but he recognizes it as belonging to the Kingslayer. Hopefully this means he's still alive. Slowly, he leaves the protection of the dragons to see none other than Jaime Lannister on his horse, followed by another. As Ser Jaime dismounts, he catches sight of the other horse rider.
He inhales sharply. It's a woman, and her eyes can be seen even from a distance—cold, horrifying blue. For several moments, he can't see anything else but those eyes. Identical to a wight's. Who is this woman, and why is she riding alongside the Kingslayer?
The knight's voice draws him back to reality. "I suppose you are Daenerys Targaryen", he tells his companion—not an ally, at least not yet.
At first, he wonders if she will miss the fact that she's face to face with the man who killed her father, but then he realizes Ser Jaime wears Lannister colors. "Yes", she replies coldly, and he knows she knows. "Daenerys Targaryen, First of My Name—"
"Yeah, I get it", Ser Jaime replies. "I'm Jaime Lannister, though I think you gathered that already. You may know me as Kingslayer, though lately I've been called by the same titles as you. Mostly—I'm not Stormborn, or Mother of Dragons, or Breaker of Chains. Just… King, I guess."
"How eloquent", the blue-eyed woman retorts, rolling her eyes as she dismounts and approaches him. "You managed to be worse than when you were crowned."
"I cursed when I was crowned", he spats, though not unkindly. "It can't be worse than that."
"Pardon me", Jon interferes, "but what do you mean, you are king? Where is your sister?"
Ser—King—Jaime's eyes turn suddenly sad. "Executed", he states, "for treason against her predecessor."
An awkward silence follows as Jon and Daenerys exchange glances. This is not what they were expecting upon coming here. Then, when it seems that Lannister won't say anything more, Jon clears his throat. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Jon Snow, King in the North. And who is this woman following you?"
Jaime blinks and turns to the woman—who, he realizes just now, wears a white cloak. "This is Ser Alysanne Hill", he announces. "My late uncle Kevan's bastard daughter. She's one of my white swords."
"A woman in the Kingsguard?", Daenerys asks, perplexed but somewhat amused.
"I wouldn't turn away someone as skilled as my cousin only because of her sex", he replies evenly. "Now, I'd like to know the intent of this visit. As impressive as your dragons are, Lady Daenerys, I was expecting a full army by the city's gates. Are they late? Are they waiting for the Reach forces to join them?"
Daenerys' eyes go wide at Jaime's statement that he knows where Olenna Tyrell's armies are. He takes advantage of her stunned silence to answer for her. "We are not here for the throne", he explains. "But for her." He then points at the woman knight.
Ser Alysanne's blinks, and then grins. "I see", she says. "Lady Olenna told you of my eyes, didn't she? You wanted to see if I was a wight, or a White Walker."
It's his eyes' turn to go wide. "You know about them? Who are you?"
It's the new king who answers. "I think", he replies, slowly, "that this conversation should be held at the Red Keep. Lady Daenerys, do you think your dragons can stay safely here?"
"You will call me Your Grace", she spats.
He raises an eyebrow. "I'm afraid you have yet to conquer the throne. I'm the one crowned by the septon, not you. However, I can call you 'Your Grace' if you extend the same courtesy to me." She fumes, and he takes it as an answer. "Figured as much. If any of you wants answers, follow us to the Red Keep."
At that, both king and knight mount back on their horses and ride away. He takes a step ahead. "May I go with you? I'm afraid the journey to the Red Keep will take a while by foot."
Daenerys turns to him. "Don't be ridiculous", she retorts. "We'll fly there, and Drogon will come back here to stay while we talk."
Jaime nods, and he and Ser Alysanne leave. He shrugs and follows Daenerys back to the dragon's back.
The Kingslayer takes them to a room with a big table in the center. Of course, Daenerys is not pleased. "Where is the throne room?", she demands.
Lannister and Ser Alysanne exchange glances, and the latter grins excitedly—it reminds him of Arya when they were young and innocent. King Jaime frowns. "Whatever you're planning—"
"I'm not planning anything", the knight retorts, grin in place. "I just think it would be… fun to show her the throne. See the changes we've made."
Daenerys' frustration melts into confusion. "Changes?"
Lannister sighs and runs his flesh hand—he's noticed his other one is golden—through his hair. "You know what, let's get this over with. Might even be easier to tell you all we have to say. Let's go."
He grows more confused as they walk to the throne room. This Alysanne is too casual around the Kingslayer for their relationship to be simply one between a king and his Kingsguard. They don't behave like lovers either. Perhaps they are just happy to have found family in each other, he contemplates. He did introduce her as his bastard cousin. If she truly is who she claims to be, it's possible they are just glad they are not alone in this world. Of course, this is only possible if the woman is, in fact, telling the truth about herself. Jon isn't quite sure about that yet, even if Ser Alysanne doesn't behave like a White Walker at all.
Eventually, they reach the throne room. At a distance, he can't make out what could possibly be changed, but, as they get closer, he notices something off. Suddenly, Daenerys gasps. "You wrecked the Iron Throne!"
The two of them turn around. The Kingslayer looks… sheepish? "Yes, there are swords missing", he explains. "I can't even sit on it anymore." He points at the seat area, from which pointy steel emerges. "Whenever I have to hold audiences, I sit on the steps. Not very kingly, but it's a lot more comfortable."
"But why?", the Dragon Queen asks, angry again.
The Kingslayer takes a deep breath and looks not at Daenerys, but at Jon. "We found swords and daggers made of Valyrian steel and obsidian. We've been taking those off ever since, which is why the throne is so… wrecked."
He blinks. Why is he concerning himself with extracting all weapons made of Valyrian steel and obsidian—
Dragonglass. Obsidian is another name for dragonglass. He knows. But— "How?", he asks, only slightly louder than a whisper. "How do you know they are important?"
"I think", Ser Alysanne says, "you can at least guess how. Or who."
He narrows his eyes at her. "You?"
"Yes. I believe we can go back to the council room, right?"
When Ser Alysanne finishes her story—or part of it, since it's obvious she didn't disclose everything at once—Daenerys' face translates what he feels: I did not wake up today for this.
"You are from the future", the Dragon Queen states dryly. "A future in which humanity lost to the undead."
"Yes", the woman replies, softer than she probably should. "I know it's hard to believe, and that you may want proof." She looks at him. "You have every reason to be suspicious. I've fought wights countless times, and I've seen myself in a mirror after I came here."
He shakes his head. "Why, then? If you are not a wight, or a White Walker, why do you bear these eyes?"
She doesn't reply verbally. Instead, she draws one of her swords—for whatever reason, she carries two on her back—and prickles her finger with the pointy end.
It doesn't bleed. Something else comes out instead. "What—"
"It's sap", she answers his unspoken question. "The Children of the Forest replaced my blood with it so they could use my blood for the ritual that brought me back in time. I think my eyes are a side effect of that—or maybe the Children decided to pull a prank. I don't really know."
Daenerys frowns. "I've seen blood magic", she says, more collected this time. "They usually get someone else's blood, not the one beloging to the person who will go through the ritual."
Ser Alysanne glances at King Jaime before turning back to the Dragon Queen. "It was supposed to be someone else's blood", she replies, sadly. "But that someone else died on our way to find the Children. I'm… I was the last human alive by the time I reached them. There was no one else to draw blood from."
Her voice nearly breaks at the end, and it's really hard not to believe her words. "You said the Night King was only a distraction", he tells her. "And that the actual leader of the White Walkers is the Night Queen. How did you find out?"
She sighs. "Bran", she replies simply.
"My brother?", he asks. "I thought he was dead."
"You haven't seen him yet?", she asks in return, surprised. He shakes his head. "Not Arya either, I assume." He shakes his head again, silently delighted to find he and Sansa are not the last Starks. "Oh… they must still be on their way to Winterfell then. I know they were there when Daenerys and Jaime arrived there—"
"I went to Winterfell with the Kingslayer?", Daenerys asks, in a mix of indignation and surprise.
Alysanne shakes her head. "No, no. King Jaime—he wasn't a king the first time around, but whatever—arrived a month after you did. Originally, you two came with other people to parley with Queen Cersei. Both twins pledged to fight for the living, but Cersei lied, so Jaime was unable to summon an army to go with him."
Both Jon and Daenerys turn at the Kingslayer. "You went to Winterfell all by yourself?", the Targaryen woman asks, surprised once again.
Jaime shrugs. "According to her, yes—though it didn't really surprise me when she said it, only that my sister didn't have me killed right away."
He sees Daenerys flinch at that, and so does he. He's heard all about the Lannister twins, how they engaged in incest and posed their children as Robert Baratheon's. What happened that made their relationship crumble to the point Jaime expected his own sister to murder him for leaving King's Landing?
Alysanne clears her throat. "Anyway", she begins, "back to Bran. He… he has some powers now." She then goes to explain all about the Three-Eyed Raven, his powers and its side effects. "He should have been able to see the Night Queen, but not only has she used her consort as a distraction for any greenseer that tried to investigate them, but the Night King gave Bran a mark that served both as a tracker and a blocker—he could be tracked by either of them, but could not see anything beyond the Night King.
"It was tough work, and we found about half of the stuff when it was too late to act on the knowledge we had, but eventually we gathered enough information about the Night Queen and her armies to enable me to come here and plan a strategy to take her out."
Jaime then speaks up. "We've begun to discuss battle plans as soon as I was crowned. My commanders are aware of the threat, but to make any viable strategy we need to assemble as many forces as possible. It's rather convenient that you came here so soon." He half smiles at them. "I know none of us are friends. You have no reason to trust me. But now we have a common enemy to fight against, and the dead are not divided. We must unite like them if we are to stand a chance."
"I agree", Jon says. "Defeat the Night King—and Queen—must be our priority." He still wants to find a way to confirm Ser Alysanne's claims, though he is inclined to believe her if he does find Arya and Bran when he goes back to Winterfell.
He glances at Daenerys. She sighs. "I'm not skeptical", she begins. "I cannot let myself not believe in magic when I have hatched three dragon eggs and seen so much proof that magic exists. Undead walking around and time travel are not so far-fetched." She glances at Jaime. "You killed my father, and for that we can never be friends, but I'm willing to make a truce for the time being."
Jaime nods, and his next words surprise him. "If you prove to the realm you are more of your mother's daughter than your father's, I'll bend the knee to you after this is all over." Daenerys gasps, as shocked as he is. "A long time ago, I swore to protect not only the king, but his family too. I killed Aerys—I won't apologize for that—and failed to protect your brothers, your good sister, your niece Rhaenys and your nephew Aegon—for that, I truly am sorry. I refuse to back another mad and cruel regent, but if I can fulfill one last vow I made to House Targaryen, I will."
As expected, Daenerys has nothing to say on that. Jaime takes it as an opening to change the subject. "I suggest we assemble battle commanders from all Westeros to sit down and discuss our strategies'', he says. "All generals from the westerlands and crownlands are here, and I've sent a letter to Sunspear. I do believe House Martell is inclined to answer to me now that they know that Doran and Trystanne's deaths were avenged. We still need to call generals from the Vale, the riverlands, the stormlands, the Reach, the North and the Ironborn. Do you think you can get those?"
Since Daenerys is still silent, Jon answers for both. "The Reach answers to Daenerys now. If she calls them, they will come. The North answers to me, obviously, and Sansa has influence on the riverlands and the Vale. I can't speak for the stormlands and Iron Islands, though."
Alysanne sighs. "The stormlands are a big question mark. Most were Stannis' allies, but many left after he burned his own daughter. I think you can draw them to your side, King Jon. You have Ser Davos Seaworth with you, along with Robert's last bastard and House Tarth's heir, right?" Jon nods. "Maybe we can't gather all of the stormlords, but it's better than nothing.
"As for the Ironborn… I know they were divided between Euron and Yara Greyjoy, but now that the former is dead... Thankfully, their forces are relatively small, and their strength is on the sea. We can set them aside as a back-up in case the Night Queen comes and freezes the ocean again."
"I'm sorry, you said freeze the ocean?"
"I told you, she's powerful. Granted, she didn't do it until she crossed Winterfell, but still. She can do it." She caresses one of her swords briefly. "There are many details regarding her armies, but it's not worth sharing them all many times over. Are you two willing to believe me so far?"
Daenerys nods wordlessly. Jon also nods, adding, "I will give you more credit if my siblings indeed are in Winterfell when I get back, but I can tell that at least you believe your own words. Is there… is there anyone in particular you'd like to see at the war meeting? That you'd want us to bring here?"
She glances at Jaime then back at him before nodding. "Bran and Arya. Samwell Tarly and Davos Seaworth. Brienne of Tarth and the Hound—or Beric Dondarrion, any of the two men can do. If you manage to get Melisandre and Theon as well, I'd be grateful. Grey Worm. Whoever is in charge of the Dothraki army."
"That's actually me", Daenerys says, finally back to speaking.
"But do you still ride horses?"
The Dragon Queen bites her lip. "No", she admits. "I see your point."
"Great! Then everyone else is a bonus."
Jaime nods, then says, "Is it possible to hold the meeting in Dragonstone? I'd rather not have the dragons coming to King's Landing, what with…", he trails off and looks at Ser Alysanne.
Jon and Daenerys exchange glances, probably remembering the same thing—when Daenerys speaks up, he confirms it is. "Is this, in any way, related to the crowd at the dragonpit?"
Lannister sighs. "Yes. Well… you'll find out sooner or later, so why not. But—you won't like it. It has to do with your father."
Daenerys immediately tenses up. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
Jaime runs his hand through his hair. "You might know about the explosion of the Sept of Baelor." They nod. "Well, it was my sister who ordered it. She used wildfire… Only she didn't order them made. I mean, she did, but the pyromancers found out it wasn't necessary, for there was a huge amount of it already hidden under the sept. They didn't know about it because… years and years ago, I killed all those who did—including Aerys, the one who ordered them."
Daenerys inhales. "Are you saying that—"
"Your father was obsessed with the thing", he replies, not waiting for the end of her question. "The rebellion that resulted in Robert Baratheon's ascension to the throne began essentially because Aerys burned Ned Stark's father and older brother when Rhaegar disappeared with Lyanna Stark." For whatever reason, he glances at Jon before looking back at Daenerys. "Have you ever heard tales of your father's madness?"
She gulps. "Ser Barristan told me. I—it was hard to tell how true those were. Sometimes he spoke of him as if he was a good man, other times…"
Jaime tilts his head. "Ser Barristan served in the Kingsguard long enough to have seen your father before he went properly mad. Once upon a time, he and my father were even friends, though he cut off all ties when Aerys made me Kingsguard."
"You make it sound like he did it to imprison you."
"In a way, that's exactly what he did. I was only a glorified hostage, even if it took me some… time to realize that." He shakes his head. "If I talk all about my time under your father's service, we won't leave this room anytime soon. You can always ask later. Point is, when my father's armies began to sack the city, he ordered his pyromancers to ignite the caches all over the city. That's… that's why I killed him."
Daenerys asks for some time by herself, and Ser Alysanne guides her outside, leaving Jon and Jaime alone. "Do you trust this… bastard cousin of yours?", he asks carefully.
The king nods. "I can't explain what exactly made me believe her. It's not my story to tell. But—yes, I have plenty of reason to trust her. She knows things nobody shouldn't, not if they don't have the resources she claims to have had."
It makes sense, even though he wishes he knew exactly what he is talking about. He decides to change the subject. "The North won't bend the knee to a Lannister", he warns.
Jaime merely raises his eyebrows. "I'd be worried if they did", he replies. "And it's not me you have to convince, Your Grace. I'm only here because the other generals won't accept anyone else, and because I needed this power to convince them of the threat of the White Walkers. As much as I'd love to hand this damn throne to the first competent person available, I'm afraid this is not the right time for a power shift."
Jon agrees. "Like you said, we can postpone this kind of talk for after we defeat the undead. But pray tell, what do you have in mind so far?"
He sighs. "Like I told you two… There is wildfire all over King's Landing. What you saw in the dragonpit was some of my men digging through it to find the caches under the place. There are barrels of it under this castle, under unsuspecting houses and the city gates." He shifts in his seat. "I wanted to take them out of the city and to Winterfell, or the Wall, so we could use them against the wights, but I was informed that wildfire gets more unstable as years go by. It's been nearly two decades since those caches were made, so there is no telling whether they could be safely transported all the way through the North. They could explode under the midday sun for all we know."
"So they are useless", he says, though it sounds like a question.
Jaime shakes his head. "There is a way to use them. Bran… like Alysanne said, he has a tracker that guides the Night King and Queen both. If we bring him here, that's where they will head straight to. We'd evacuate the city, of course—preferably evacuate all cities, villages and castles on the way from the Wall to here—and, when the army of the dead goes through the city gates, we would take Bran out as we ignite the caches. A dragon would be ideal for both tasks."
Jon nods slowly, processing what he just heard. As much as dislikes the idea of using his half-brother as bait, if Bran truly has a tracker on his skin, this is a great idea. If he does convince Daenerys to lend a dragon for it, they can trap the majority—if not the entirety—of the Night King's army in a city surrounded by wildfire.
"I'm not sure people would willingly sacrifice the capital", he argues.
"The capital can be anywhere we want", the king replies easily. "Especially now, with so many extinguished noble houses and empty castles. King's Landing can be rebuilt anyway—it was rebuilt in Alysanne's world. As long as we evacuate it, I don't see a reason for attachment."
"I see your p—wait, she saw King's Landing destroyed?" It is one thing to suggest a new plan; it is another to suggest something that has already been tried before.
Jaime seems to understand what he's getting at. "Not in this way, no", he replies, and Jon feels himself deflating. "It was… by Daenerys' hand. She was fighting Cersei, and… well, if you want details, you should ask Alysanne herself. It's not a good story."
Oh. "Did Daenerys turn mad?"
"Sort of? Alysanne implied she had her reasons for her mind… to slip. Reasons that can—and should—be prevented this time around. She insists Daenerys is pivotal to defeat the Night Queen."
There truly seems to be a lot more for this woman to tell them. "Who else is… pivotal?"
"You", he answers without hesitation. "Me. Bran. Your… half-sisters." Why does he sound unsure? "Lady Brienne." Somehow he sounds soft when saying that name. "Davos Seaworth. That red priestess whose name I forgot—"
"Melisandre?"
"Yes. The Greyjoy siblings. Arianne Martell. Lady Olenna. Robin Arryn. Robert's bastard. And this is just the basics. We actually need as many people alive as possible. The dragons too."
"And who… did we fail to keep alive in her world?"
Jaime inclines his body over the table. "Daenerys and I perished on the same day", he states. "Lady Olenna is already outliving her other self. Arya died some years after I did, and then you were among the first casualties of the war against the Night Queen. Afterwards, the rest fell one by one, until there was only Alysanne left."
He gulps. He doesn't want to imagine being alone in the world, with absolutely nobody, not even a stranger, to turn to. No wonder Ser Alysanne is so determined to prove herself trustworthy, and no wonder she was willing to be subjected to a blood ritual—to trade her blood for tree sap and get wight-like eyes—in order to go back in time and fix things. What would I have done in her place? Would I have kept fighting, or would I have given up?
He can't answer that now, not without the whole picture of what happened, but it doesn't really matter what he would have done. What matters is: there is someone who knows what went wrong and is eager to make things right. He still wants to verify her claims, of course, but the possibility of this all being an extremely elaborate farce gets smaller and smaller.
He finds Daenerys in the throne room, sitting on the stairs that lead to the Iron Throne. Her stare is vacant, and he's never seen her look so fragile as she does right now. For the first time, she looks undeniably human. That's what ultimately drives him to go to her and sit on the step right below her.
She's the first to speak. "The Kingslayer is right", she whispers. "It doesn't look very kingly to sit here. Or queenly." He can't help but chuckle, and she lets out a soft snort. Then, she continues, "I'm not sure what to think of… all of this."
"It was a lot to digest", he agrees.
She shakes her head. "The woman knight told me even more when she led me out of the room. I—she told me I burned this city, the first time around." Her voice shakes, and he doesn't dare interrupt her. "She told me I lost myself grieving all the loved ones I lost in the weeks prior to the confrontation with Cersei, and a series of… revelations that made me distrust my allies. She sounded sorry for me, even though I was the one who brought sorrow to thousands of people." She takes a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want to be Queen of Ashes. I never did, not even when I felt using my dragons was the only way to stop the evil lords in Slaver's Bay."
He thinks he doesn't want to know details. "You don't have to be", he tells her instead. "Cersei Lannister is dead now, and her brother is willing to give the throne to you if you prove to him that you won't turn mad like your father."
"Can I do it?", she asks, and though he's not sure if the question is really directed at him, he answers all the same.
"Of course. Nothing is set on stone; if that was the case, Ser Alysanne wouldn't have gone back in time to prevent the doom of humanity."
She finally looks at him, and fixes her stare for some time. When he starts to feel uncomfortable under her gaze, she blinks and looks down. "I suppose I should start by not demanding everyone to bend the knee to me."
He nods. "Look, I'm not saying you are not worth following", he explains, "but I don't know you enough to say you are, either. You seem to have earned your army's respect, which is a good sign, and Lady Olenna willingly pledged herself and the entire Reach to you. That's no small feat. But you are still a foreigner in the eyes of the realm, and most of Westeros is still wary of Targaryens. They are wary of Lannisters too, but—well, you've heard it. Ser Jaime has the West and Dorne at his disposal, at least. Two armies you won't have anytime soon, if I got things right."
She shakes her head, but he knows it's in agreement. "I allied myself with Ellaria Sand", she reminds him. "House Martell might have pledged to me once, in honor of Elia and her children, but not anymore. Not after I sided with the women who murdered their family. If for nothing else, they will side with Jaime Lannister just to spite me." She sighs, and changes the subject. "Did you know about the wildfire?"
"No", he replies. "I don't think anyone does."
"But why would he keep that a secret?"
"I wish I knew. Maybe he thought it would be safer if no one knew about them—I mean, look at what his own sister did. Or maybe he thought nobody would believe him. Or it's another reason entirely. But I don't think he lied about it. He didn't seem to have told us that to earn our trust."
She nods. "No, I don't think he did. I asked a question, and he answered." She closes her eyes briefly, then opens them again. "Do you believe Ser Alysanne?"
"I'm inclined to", he says. "If anything, I doubt she's a White Walker. As far as I know, they don't bleed at all, not even tree sap. And she looks way too human to pass up as one of them. I will trust her words more when I go back to Winterfell and see my siblings there."
Daenerys tilts her head. "There is a quicker way to prove her right or wrong", she tells him. "She told me to let you try Rhaegal. Said you rode him in her timeline. If you do here…"
"I'm not sure I want to try out a dragon in a city surrounded by wildfire."
"Then try in Dragonstone. A second dragon rider will make things a lot easier, to be honest." She stands up. "Well, I am inclined to believe her. She's told me things she had no way of knowing if she wasn't exactly who she claims to be, not to mention all the knowledge she showed to have on the White Walkers."
He stands up as well. "So what do you want to do?"
She looks at him, but her gaze is not as intense as before. "I'll tell Lannister we can hold the meeting in Dragonstone", she states. "I'll find Yara Greyjoy and bring her to me. I'll ask Olenna to gather her battle commanders while gathering my own. I suppose you and your sister will gather yours. We will discuss battle strategies, and we'll fight the undead as one unit. Then, and only then, I will concern myself with the Iron Throne." She turns to said throne. "Or whatever is left of it at the end of this."
He glances at the chair, which is as wrecked as it was when they arrived. "I'm sure it can be fixed", he supplies, but then he remembers Jaime's plan—if it works, there won't even be a throne to fix. He decides not to tell her that, though.
He follows her back to the council room, where King Jaime and Ser Alysanne are chatting with grins on their faces. There is a queer familiarity in their gazes, which raises many questions in his mind, but none that sound really urgent. When they catch sight of him and Daenerys, they straighten up, but their grins don't really fade. "Have you made a decision?", Jaime asks them.
Daenerys speaks first. "We can have the meeting in Dragonstone. I'll need at least a fortnight to prepare things there, though."
She glances at Jon, who nods. "I'll need a month or two to organize things in Winterfell."
"Alright", the Kingslayer replies. "I can't go to Dragonstone without talking to the Martells first anyway. I suppose we all have an agreement—a truce?"
Jon and Daenerys confirm it. "I can't speak for everyone else", Jon admits, "but I'll do my best to assure them we are all allies." He inhales. "I'd like to thank you in advance, King Jaime." The man blinks, startled. "No matter how this war meeting goes, I'm glad that you are so willing to help us against a threat you have yet to see."
"It's not me you have to thank", he reminds him.
"Not only you", he insists. "I am grateful for Ser Alysanne's help, but you could have easily discredited her, or used your privileged knowledge to bribe us to side with you, but you only seek to help. For that, I thank you."
Alysanne seems to beam at his words. Jaime's grin melts into a polite smile. "Don't thank me yet, King Jon. Let us all wait for the undead to be defeated to thank each other." He stands up. "Would you like a ride to the dragons?"
"Yes, please", Daenerys replies for him, her tone so pleading they all chuckle.