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Chapter 77

Selene was on fire.

Sweat lined her brow, pooled under her back, slickened her thighs. She struggled against the weight above her.

"No, Selene, stay under there," said a voice she could not name. It was familiar, but distorted.

"Too hot," Selene groaned as she twisted, her eyes shut tight. "Too…too hot…"

"You have to sweat the fever out," the voice insisted.

Selene decided to hate the voice.

Stretching her fingers as far as she could, she reached out beside her, but she was alone. All alone.

Then she remembered…Jon was dead.

A sob burst from her lips, "Jon."

Tears seared her face like white-hot knives as they fell. Jon is gone. Dead. Dust.

Selene wept harder into the pillow.

"Selene, it's alright," the voice soothed. "I'm alright."

The voice did not know. The voice did not understand.

"I want Jon," Selene whimpered, her throat cracking and bleeding, the metallic taste of blood bursting on her tongue.

"Here. Take this."

Something hard as stone, yet ribbed and scaled, was nestled under her arm. It was hotter than she was, but oddly comforting. Selene sighed, bringing it closer.

A cool softness was dabbed lovingly on her brow. Selene had never felt anything more divine.

It calmed her. "Jon," she muttered, drifting back into blissful, desolate darkness.

###

Selene's eyes fluttered open.

Hmm, she thought blearily, so heaven looks like my old bedchambers. Her room was untouched since she'd seen it last, with it's heavy black and gold, Baratheon ornamentation. The sky outside her grand windows was a deep blue, so dark it was almost black. Night was falling.

She turned her head, an action that required all her strength, and saw Jon slumped in a chair beside the bed. Any hope of her survival vanished when she saw him. Now I know I'm dead. Jon is here, too.

Selene attempted a smile. "I knew I'd see you again." She grimaced at the ache in her throat.

Jon stirred, his eyes shooting open. "Selene! You're awake." He moved to sit on the bed, taking her hand.

"It almost feels real," Selene marveled at the skin where they touched. To her annoyance, her body throbbed. "I thought there was supposed to be no more pain."

Jon frowned, "What? You're not dead."

"But you are," Selene insisted to Jon's stubborn shade. "I saw you fall from the sky."

Jon shook his head, "Viserion was hit, but only once. He steadied a bit closer to the sea and I jumped. The dragon sunk below the waves," he said sadly, "and one of Asha's ships found me."

Jon's shade is awfully stubborn. "But…" she tried to lift her left arm, but it only jerked.

Jon's eyes fell to her skin, and he understood. "The red god's curse is gone, I know. And I think I know why, but you're not going to like it."

"So…" Selene tried to wrap her mind around the truth, but she felt sluggish and slow, "you're alive?"

Jon's lip twitched, "I sure hope so."

Selene felt a surge of strength and bolted upright, her head pulsing painfully in retribution.

Jon looked alarmed, "You need your res-"

"You're alive!" Selene threw her arms around him, reeling with joy.

Jon chuckled, "Yes, and so are you."

"You came back to me."

"I swore I would," Jon said, pressing his forehead to hers. "We are bound, you and I. Nothing in this world will part me from you."

Selene felt her relief spread like warmth into her fingertips. "You will never look and find me gone." She was quiet for a moment, "Jon, I'm so ashamed-"

"Hush, now," Jon told her. "You need your rest. This will only upset you."

It was too late for that. Selene's eyes were already misting. "It was wrong. I should have trusted you with the truth."

Jon gave her a sympathetic look, "You were shielding me from pain. I know that now, but…I hate to think of you suffering in silence. I can't spend my life wondering if you're keeping anything hidden from me. No problem is too great, if we face it together."

Weakness was creeping back into her bones, but Selene raised her fingers to her moonstone, gripping it tightly to make her oath. "I swear to you, Jon, no more lies. I swear it on all the gods." She thought of what he said in the Vale. "The old, new and true."

Jon smiled, the last legs of the wall between them melting away like summer snow.

Selene tensed, bits of memory returning to her. "I was coughing blood…I was feverish…are the babes alright?"

"Yes. A maester examined you while you slept." He frowned, "I'm sorry for that, but I thought you'd want to know as soon as possible, and not knowing if my sons were safe was driving me mad."

"Don't apologize. What did he say?"

"The babes are alive, but as fragile as you are. You need rest. You need to regain your strength."

Selene let out a great sigh of relief, leaning back against the great oaken headboard. In doing so, she bumped into something.

Frowning, she turned to find the dragon egg nestled in the sheets beside her.

Jon's solemn eyes were on the egg as she grabbed and turned it in her hands. "It broke your fever."

"What?"

Worry creased his brow. "Your fever was only getting worse. After a week, the maester said if it didn't break soon…" he could not say the words.

He didn't have to. Selene laced her fingers with his.

Jon's voice was thick, "I didn't know what else to do. I thought the egg…I don't know…would give you strength. Would give them strength. All night, I sat by your side and listened to your whimpers and cries. It was the longest night of my life, but in the morning, your fever was gone."

Selene smiled weakly, her voice soft, "You saved us."

Jon spread his fingers over her belly. "It was the least I could do. After killing you all, that is."

Selene laughed, the feeling painful and unfamiliar, "Try not to make it a habit." After a moment, fear crept into her heart, but she had to know…

"What happened?"

To her surprise, Jon smiled, "You saved King's Landing, Selene. The realm is talking of nothing else. Many saw, but the rest heard how you led the evacuation, how you stopped the wildfire from spreading." Jon tucked a curl behind her ear, "I'm so proud of you."

Selene did not share his joy. "How many people?"

"You shouldn't torture yourself with that. It wasn't your fault."

"How many, Jon?"

He looked away, "We're still searching and counting, but…thirty thousand."

Thirty thousand. Thirty thousand souls, gone in a puff of smoke.

"I wonder how many I killed myself." Tears pricked at her eyes. "I burned the city."

"You saved it," Jon insisted. "Because of you it's thirty thousand, not half a million. Small pockets of rubble instead of a city of ash. No one is blaming you. They're…" he hesitated. "They're blaming Daenerys."

Selene's heart felt torn in two, "She…she thought the walls were safe, you know she did. The entire council heard Jaime's words. She didn't mean for the wildfire to catch."

"I'm afraid the people aren't concerned with her intentions. Many are crying out for her head. She's shut herself in the king's chambers and has not emerged in weeks."

"Weeks?"

Jon nodded, "You've been feverish for nearly two weeks, Selene."

"Who's ruling?"

"Tyrion has called a Great Council. Sansa should be arriving any day now, as well as Prince Doran, Lords Arryn, Tully and Tyrell."

Selene's brows rose.

"I know," Jon chuckled. "It only seems fair to give everyone a say."

"And us?"

"We'll get more than a say, if I have anything to do about it." Jon held her palm, tracing lightly over the skin. "When I got to shore, I thought the city would be a ruin. Instead I saw you, leading people to safety. I've never seen the ironborn so quiet."

The corner of Selene's lip curved.

"I got to the keep as quick as I could," Jon said, "but when I arrived, you were sick with fever. Ser Jaime-"

Selene gasped as more memory returned. Her uncle with his hand around her mother's throat. His tears.

"My mother…"

Jon's eyes went to the emerald ring on her finger, his own rubbing the stone. "Your uncle knows more about that than I do. He's been like Daenerys…gone away inside."

Gone away inside? Selene did not like the sound of that.

Jon met her eyes, "I'm sorry about your mother."

Selene only felt peace. "Leave no words unspoken. That's what you told me."

"I did."

Selene gave him a small smile, "Thank you for that. You were right."

Mischief flashed in his eyes, "I always am."

Selene chuckled, and brought his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles, "And modest."

Jon let out a small laugh. His eyes locked on hers for a moment too long, and then he closed the gap between them, his hand sliding behind the nape of her neck to draw her close.

Selene gripped the front of his jerkin tight, kissing back, until a twinge in her temple made her wince.

Jon's smile was rueful, "You need your rest." His hand went to her belly, "You all do."

Selene nodded in defeat, pulling him close, "Stay with me."

"Always," Jon promised, "but there's someone who's desperate to see you."

Selene frowned as Jon stood and opened the door.

Amyra rushed in and jumped on the bed, "Selene!"

Selene giggled as the girl clutched her tight. Amyra had been given fresh clothes, her arms bandaged, her blonde hair smooth and soft to the touch. "I'm glad to see you safe."

"Amyra told us how you saved her," Jon said fondly. "She's a very brave girl."

"That she is."

"Jon's been giving me jelly tarts from the kitchens."

Selene chuckled, raising a brow, "Have you?"

Jon colored, "She said she liked them."

Selene smiled, before turning to the girl, "Is your family looking for you?"

The girl's large, dark eyes grew glassy with tears, "No. It was just me and my papa. I…I have no one else."

Selene hushed the girl's cries, bringing her to her shoulder. Selene met Jon's gaze, feeling a rush of responsibility in her chest. I could not save her father, but I'll be damned if let this poor girl suffer any more. As she held the young girl close, Selene realized that her son Ned would have been around the same age.

That hardened her resolve.

"You have me, Amyra. You have us. We'll care for you."

Jon raised a brow.

Selene gave him an expectant look.

Amyra turned to Jon with her big, brown eyes, and he promptly melted under her gaze. "Of course we will."

The girl brightened, "Really?"

"Yes, sweet girl," Selene beamed, a yawn breaking on her face.

Jon scooped Amyra in his arms, "Alright, Selene needs her rest."

The sight of Jon with a little girl in his arms made Selene's heart soften in her chest.

"Wait."

Jon turned, smiling at her expression. "Rest, Selene. The realm can wait another day or two."

Selene did not want to be alone. "Stay, both of you."

"Okay!" Amrya chirped, getting under the covers beside her.

Jon's smile deepened as climbed into bed and drew Selene to him. With Amyra clutched at her back, her sons safe in her belly, and Jon beside her, Selene could not summon any great sense of fear or worry. All she felt was peace, and something like happiness.

Selene was asleep before her head hit Jon's chest.

###

The aroma of Dornish eggs and peppers stirred her from sleep.

Selene opened her eyes to find two maidservants preparing a bath, while another plated her food.

"Good morning, Your Grace," they chimed in unison.

Selene sat up in bed, her stomach rumbling.

"Would you like to break your fast?"

Is this some strange dream? "Uh…yes, please."

Before she could say another word, the maid placed a standing table on the bed in front of her.

Selene warily picked up a fork, "Dornish eggs are my favorite."

"Lord Tyrion had it made special for you," the tallest of the three said. "We are to prepare you."

"What for?"

The maids looked between themselves uncertainly, "For the Great Council meeting, of course."

That's today? Selene thought as she took a bite. What game is Tyrion playing? Not that I'm complaining, she thought, happily devouring her eggs and peppers. She was famished.

As soon as she was done, the table was removed, and Selene led to the bath. Her legs wobbled from disuse, but she was just able to stand. She counted that as a small victory as a maid pulled her shift from her.

Their eyes immediately fell to the swell of her belly.

"Congratulations, Your Grace," said the blonde one.

"Thank you," Selene said as they lowered her in. The water was deliciously warm and made her goosepimples vanish. "Who are you?"

The three looked surprised. The tall one muttered something under her breath.

"Have I offended you, my lady?" Selene asked, perplexed to the point of exasperation.

"No, Your Grace, only…your mother never asked our names," the tall one smiled as she began to wash Selene's hair. "My name is Eyme."

"Fryda," said the blonde who began running a file over the jagged edges of Selene's nails.

"Olira," said the freckled one as she scrubbed Selene's skin.

"And you are…"

"The queen's chambermaids."

The queen's chambermaids, Selene raised a brow. "My Uncle Tyrion sent you to attend me?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

Selene wanted to continue with her questions, particularly about her mother, but Eyme's deft fingers were digging into her scalp, and so she decided to relax. It's been so long since I've had a proper bath, she thought blissfully.

Too soon for Selene, the maids lifted her from the tub, rubbed her with sweet-smelling cream, dabbed perfume on her wrists and neck, and debated which dress would suit her best.

When asked, Selene shrugged, "I'm happy with anything."

"Cobalt velvet," said Olira. "For her eyes. Oh! And the sapphire headpiece."

"Sapphires?" Selene asked. "That's a bit much for a council meeting."

"Lord Tyrion instructed us to dress you like a queen."

Selene sighed, "Alright, then."

Olira glanced at Selene's hand, "Emerald doesn't really go with cobalt. I'd be happy to find-"

"The ring stays."

When they were done, the handmaidens admired their work.

"Just lovely."

"Your Grace is a great beauty."

"You'd think the belly would take away, but you're glowing."

Selene turned to the mirror.

They chose a dress of cobalt velvet that bared her shoulders. The jagged sleeves kissed the floor, the detailing at her chest and waist a weaving of silver thread. Her hair was a intricate swirl of braids at the back of her head, with loose curls cascading down her back. Heavy sapphires hung from her ears, and one sat on her forehead on a delicate silver band that wrapped around her head.

I look like a queen.

Selene turned to her side, admiring her belly. The two weeks she had spent in bed looked like four. The joy of twins, she supposed. For a moment, she wished she could ask her grandmother Joanna for advice on the matter.

"Would Your Grace care for rouge or kohl?"

"No, thank you, Eyme. This…this is more than enough."

A knock at the door.

The three girls bowed as they made their way out, and Jon stepped inside.

Selene's jaw dropped, heat blooming beneath her cheeks.

Jon looked grander than she did in an onyx doublet slashed with red beneath a black cloak. Longclaw hung at his hip, his hair was tied back in a knot, and he had a thick chain of gold looped over his shoulder. She had never seen him so resplendent.

All he's missing is a crown, Selene thought, a fierce blush crawling up her neck. He looks every inch a king. Looking at him now, it was difficult to imagine the brooding bastard boy she met in her girlhood.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Selene," Jon began, eyes sweeping over her, "you look-"

"Jon?" Selene smiled incredulously. "Is that you?"

Jon laughed, standing a bit straighter. "Don't sound so surprised."

Selene stepped forward to inspect him. She reached out, touched the softness of his doublet, and circled him. She could not stop staring, or keep her hands from him.

Jon's eyes followed her closely.

Selene ran her fingers down his sleeves, back across his cloak. That's black ermine, she knew as she felt the fabric. There were fewer materials as expensive. It pleased her to feel Jon tense under her touch.

"I've never worn anything this fine in my life," Jon admitted, sounding breathless. "Does…does it suit me?"

Selene stood before him, shaking her head slowly, "You're a vision."

"Me?" Jon asked, his hands running down her velvet sleeves, "As much as I love you in this dress…all I want to do is tear it off you."

Selene felt a stir deep within her. After all the horror they had seen, it was such sweet relief to be themselves again. To be playful. To give in to desire.

The world outside her chambers felt far away.

"Do you?" Selene looked down at her belly, "Even when I look like this?"

Jon's eyes were dark as he beheld her. His hand trailed down her spine, until they landed on the small of her back and pulled her flush against him. "Especially when you look like this. You better grow used to the feeling."

"Oh?" she breathed. "And why's that?"

Grey eyes seared blue as Jon's fingers dragged across her nape, tilting her head up. "I plan on seeing you like this many more times. One for each finger, remember?" His warm breath spread lightly across her cheeks.

Selene chuckled, but it came out more like a gasp. She paused when something wafted her way. "Is that…have you chewed mint leaves?" There was something else, too. "And bathed with lemon soap?"

Jon snickered, "You act like I've never bathed before. Tyrion sent servants to help me dress. He's responsible for all of this."

Selene dragged her fingers lightly down his chest, feeling the expensive fabric and the chain of gold. "Remind me to thank him. Your doublet makes me want to fling you down to the floor and ravish you."

Jon's grip tightened deliciously, "If there's flinging and ravishing to be done, it'll be me that does it, aye?"

Selene grabbed the folds of her skirt and gave him her deepest curtsey. "As you will, Your Grace."

Jon's breathing seemed to stop, and then his hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting her. He pressed her back against the wall roughly, her dress riding up her hips.

Selene yelped in surprise, her legs instinctually wrapping around his waist. Jon swallowed her gasp with eager lips. He tasted of mint and lemon. The taste made her head spin. The taste made her heart race.

"Wait," Selene mumbled, though she noticed her fingers working on the fastenings of his trousers all the same. "Isn't the council waiting?"

"I've waited two weeks for you," Jon murmured, kissing the spot on her throat where he was sure to feel her thumping pulse. "They can wait another minute."

"Only one?" Selene teased.

"Two, if you're lucky."

Selene's full laugh turned into a strangled moan when he pressed deep into her. It was then she agreed with him - two weeks was too long to go without each other. Her hips rose of their own accord, responding to him readily. "Just two?" she asked with what she hoped sounded like indignation.

Jon's sighs were almost too much to bear. "Well, one, if you keep squirming like that."

"Like this?"

Jon inhaled sharply, "Yes."

"What about this?"

Jon groaned in what almost sounded like pain. Fortunately, she knew better.

"Selene," he warned, though his hips showed no signs of stopping.

She didn't respond, only arched her back in a way that made him shudder. She leaned forward and kissed him, running her tongue along his lip, swirling slowly in his mouth until his grip grew painfully tight.

Selene leaned her head back against the wall, watching a flustered Jon through dark lashes. "You were saying?" she asked innocently.

Jon's eyes were black with desire. "You're cruel," he breathed.

"You have no idea," Selene sighed, twisting his gold chain around her fingers and pulling him close.

As he began to move again, in the sudden helplessness, there awoke in her a familiar strange thrill rippling inside her. Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to the point of brilliance, exquisite and melting her all molten inside.

Afterward, Jon adjusted her skirts with tenderness. Selene retied the fastenings of his trousers, humming in content. She cast a final glance at herself in the mirror, pinning back a lose curl and straightening the sapphire on her forehead.

Selene applied a quick dab of perfume to her neck and wrists, and the two left the chambers hand in hand, smirking at their own boldness.

Ghost was waiting for them outside the door.

"Hello, Ghost," Selene said happily, running her fingers along the soft white fur of his neck.

Jon paused, "I don't remember the way to the small council chambers."

"I do," Selene said with a smile. "Welcome to the Red Keep, Jon."

The castle was brighter than she remembered. Grey winter light seeped through high windows, and dulled the red of the bricks, making them warmer, like burnished copper.

They were halfway through the keep when she realized the guards were all from different kingdoms. She saw Dornish spearmen, northerners with their rough furs, rivermen with fish-scaled jerkins, even Lannisters with their crimson steel. All were as still as statues where they stood guard, except for the northman, who nodded to Jon, and the stormlanders, who did the same to Selene.

Jon's brows were furrowed.

"Yes?"

"What you said the other day, about Amyra…"

Selene waited.

Jon met her eyes, "Have we just become parents?"

Selene laughed, "I want her to be our ward. We can't just throw her out on the streets or give her to an orphanage." She raised a brow, "Is that alright?"

Jon smiled, and Selene saw that Amyra had stolen his heart as much as she had hers, "More than alright."

As they neared the Great Hall, Jon straightened, "I remember now."

"Good," Selene smiled, nearing the doors.

Jon held her back. At her frown, he said, "I have to prepare you for what's on the other side of those doors."

Selene's frown held, "I know what's on the other side. The small council chamber is just behind the throne."

"I misspoke. Not what. Who."

Selene turned to the grand iron doors.

"Your Uncle Jaime has been acting…" Jon struggled to find the right words. "I hardly recognize him, but you might."

Selene grit her teeth, but she pressed her palms to the door and pushed.

Jaime Lannister lounged on the steps below the Iron Throne. Tyrion and Myrcella faced him from below, their voices halting at Selene and Jon's entrance. Her sister and uncle turned to her, relief flooding their features.

Jaime's eyes flashed when they locked on hers, and Selene knew what Jon was trying to say. The sneering man was not her uncle.

He was the Kingslayer.

"A Stark once found me in this very hall after I murdered the king," the Kingslayer mused, eyes on Jon. "And now another finds me here after murdering the queen. How's that for divine providence?"

Jon's glance told her all she needed to know. See?

"My dear niece," the Kingslayer crossed his legs nonchalantly, "be welcome in my hall."

"Your hall?"

Jaime grinned as he rose to his feet, spreading his arms wide. "Haven't you heard? I killed the queen. I'm as much a kinslayer as a kingslayer now."

"He's been this way for weeks," Tyrion muttered from the corner of his mouth.

"Years," Jaime corrected his brother as he descended the steps. "All my life, really. It's who I am, beneath it all. Kingslayer, oathbreaker, a man without honor."

"Father, please," Myrcella begged. "You are none of those things. You are a knight."

Jaime barked with laughter, "A knight? I've forsaken every vow I ever took."

"You did what was right," Jon tried. "The Mad King was-"

"-your grandfather?" Jaime raised a brow. "He was many things, but above all he was my king, and I shoved my sword into his back."

This isn't right, Selene thought, watching the Kingslayer smirk with her uncle's mouth, watching him laugh with her uncle's eyes. Jaime forgave himself for that. He told me so himself. He did the right thing, he knows he did. Why…

"I need to hear it from you," Selene said.

Jaime turned his face to her, grinning, "And what's that?"

"I don't remember much," Selene admitted, "but I remember your hand around her throat."

At that, darkness passed over Jaime's face. "It was me," he whispered, so faint Selene almost thought she imagined it. "It was me, our wholes lives. The valonquar. She always thought it was Tyrion but…it was me. I was destined to kill her."

"It was mercy," Myrcella said firmly. "She was in agony, and you-"

"-killed my sister," Jaime finished. "I killed my sister!" His eyes fell to the floor, and it was then Selene noticed the white cloak discarded there like trash. Jaime reared his foot back and kicked it with all his strength. "I don't deserve this! I never have!"

The Kingslayer unsheathed his sword with a flourish, and levelled it at Selene's chest.

A low growl began at the base of Ghost's throat. Or was that Jon? Tyrion and Myrcella were frozen in shock, but Selene's face was stone.

"Fear me," the Kingslayer commanded.

"No."

"I killed my own sister," he reminded her. "What's to stop me from killing you, too?" His eyes flicked to his brother, his daughter, and his king. "Or any of you?" When he got no response, Jaime took it upon himself to answer. "Nothing!"

Selene held his gaze, "None of us fear you. We have no reason to."

Jaime's face twisted in rage, and he threw his sword at Jon's feet. The steel clattered to the floor, ringing as loudly as her uncle's voice. "Take it back! Take it back!"

Silence fell over them, heavy in the air. The only sound was Jaime's strained breaths, as if he had run a thousand miles.

Selene said not a word, only reached down and grabbed the white cloak. She offered it to him.

Confusion swam in Jaime's eyes, or were those tears? "I don't want it. I don't deserve it."

"You do," Selene said softly. "I won't lose you again, Uncle."

"I'm the Kingslayer," he snarled, angry and bitter.

Selene reached forward and threw the cloak over his shoulders. Jaime stiffened, but did not fight her. She clasped it with his golden lion pin, straightening it dutifully. She took the her uncle's face in her hands so he had no choice but to look upon her.

"Jaime," Selene told him, wiping his tears with her thumbs. "Your name is Jaime, and you're a good man."

The Kingslayer melted away before her eyes, and he was her uncle once more. A sob flew from his lips as he fell into her arms.

Selene held him fiercely. His arms wound around her as he buried his face into her shoulder, but his knees buckled. She fell to the ground with him, refusing to let him go, to let him slip away from her again.

Never again.

Jaime shook in her arms.

Myrcella was the first to join them, arms wrapped around her father and sister. Tyrion was next, stretching his arms as wide as he could as he held what remained of his family. Of their family.

Selene felt Jon's reassuring hand on her back.

In the shadow of the Iron Throne, Selene embraced the ones she loved most, and for a moment, she held the entire world in her arms.

###

At the entrance to the small council chambers, Selene stopped.

"Are you ready?" Jon asked.

Selene gazed up at the high doors, "Last time I was here, my mother caught me spying on my father's meeting."

Jon squeezed her hand.

"The world is so different now," Selene said softly. "Where's our place in it?"

Jon thought for a moment, choosing his words with care. "I'll tell you where," he said, snaking an arm around her hips and drawing her close. "Our place is together. No matter what's on the other side of that door, or what lies ahead. I swore I would never let you go, and that's a vow I intend to keep."

Selene sighed, warmth in her chest. She leaned against him for a moment, for strength, before stepping out of his grasp and pushing the doors wide open.

The small council chamber felt smaller than ever, the colorful tapestries on the wall depicting hunting scenes unchanged since her father's rule. Mother must have never used this room, Selene thought, otherwise they would have been torn down. She was glad for the remnant of her father that remained and prayed for his strength for the task ahead.

The table reserved for the council had been pushed aside, for it would have been too small for the company assembled. The great lords and ladies of Westeros sat in perfect circle of chairs with respect to where their kingdoms sat on the map. The Starks sat between their Tully and Arryn kin, Tyrion on the western curve beside Asha Greyjoy, the Tyrells to his right, the Martells, and Selene's own half brother in the east.

Immediately, Selene realized there was one person who wasn't here. One person who should have been.

Where is Daenerys?

All heads turned at their entry.

Tyrion stood, "Welcome, Your Graces." He gestured toward the twin empty seats in the east, where King's Landing would have been on the imaginary map.

Selene felt the eyes hot on her as she took her seat beside Jon. She looked over her shoulder, where Jaime stood protectively over them, white cloak over his shoulders. She was glad for his presence and gave him a loving smile as she sat.

Ser Jaime Lannister's eyes gleamed with pride.

Tyrion cleared his throat, "Firstly, let us hear from the City Watch. Ser?"

From the shadows stepped the very same soldier Selene had spoken to on the battlefield.

"Well met, Ser Jacelyn," Selene said with a smile.

The gold cloak blinked, as if not expecting her acknowledgment, "Well met, Your Grace. I'm glad to see you recovered."

Last he saw me, I was dripping in sweat, blood and soot. I must make for a fairer sight in sapphires and velvet. "Thank you, ser."

Ser Jacelyn straightened as he addressed the room, "The Watch estimates the total dead at forty thousand souls."

Heavy silence seemed to choke the air from the room. Some fidgeted in their seats, some as still as statues.

The knight continued, "Reconstruction has begun under the instruction of Lord Tyrion."

Prince Doran Martell, ten years his brother's senior, upright and correct in his chair, asked, "By whose authority does Tyrion Lannister command the City Watch of King's Landing?"

"Mine."

Selene turned her head to Jon in surprise.

Prince Doran raised a thin black brow at his boldness, but held his tongue. Oberyn smirked beside him.

Tyrion stood, looking to relieve the tension, "Thank you, Ser Jacelyn. That will be all."

As the door shut, Tyrion rubbed his hands together. "Welcome, my lords and ladies, to this Great Council. The first in a hundred years."

"I do not believe we travelled all this way for a history lesson," said Prince Doran.

Tyrion gave him a thin smile, "No, of course not. I only mean to remind us of the importance of our meeting. We have one question to ask ourselves now. Who is to rule?"

"All here have read your Pact," said Lord Willas Tyrell, hands folded neatly in his lap. He shared Garlan's look, except for his cleanshaven face. His eyes were brown instead of gold, and they shone with fierce intellect. On either side sat his brother and grandmother. "An incredible work of diplomacy."

"You flatter me, Lord Tyrell."

Lord Willas shrugged away Tyrion's gratitude, "It's truth. The pact is quite clear. The realm is now split in half. The southern kingdoms are under the rule of Daenerys Targaryen while the northern kingdoms are under the rule of Jon-" Willas hesitated with a lick of his lips, "…Targaryen, and his wife, Selene Baratheon."

"Unless-" Tyrion began.

"Unless what?" Lord Robin Arryn, a young boy on the cusp of manhood, asked impatiently.

"Unless the peace is broken," said Lord Edmure Tully, looking much older than he was. "Should either claimant break the truce or betray the realm."

Edmure met Selene's gaze, and she found she could not look away. The last she had seen Lord Tully, he was carried to his marriage bed by squealing Frey women. Gone was the brash and impetuous young lord of Riverrun. The man seated bore dark and heavy bags beneath his eyes, and there was more white in his flaming locks than there should have been. Ser Brynden sat loyally at his nephew's right hand.

Selene wrenched her eyes away.

"Yes," said Tyrion, "thank you, Lord Edmure."

"I do not need your thanks," spat Edmure, "nor do I want it."

There's not enough diplomacy in the world to cross the river of blood in this room.

Tyrion's eyes hardened, "I am not responsible for my father's sins."

"Yet you rule his lands and speak with his voice."

"Brother," Lady Catelyn implored.

"Uncle," Sansa Stark said with a low edge in her voice.

All in the circle were surprised at the Lady of Winterfell's tone, though Selene spotted a deep blush in her uncle's cheeks.

When Edmure fell silent, Tyrion continued, "I was Hand to Queen Daenerys. I, more than anyone else in this room, wanted to seat her on the Iron Throne."

Was. Wanted. Selene heard those words loudest of all. She wondered if the others heard it to.

Lady Olenna did. "And what now, my lord? For Queen Daenerys has broken the pact and the peace."

"She did no such thing," Asha Greyjoy insisted, drawing hard looks around the circle, especially from the western kingdoms accustomed to ironborn raids. "Queen Daenerys set about burning scorpions. The wildfire was a terrible accident."

"Aye, perhaps it was," Ser Brynden conceded, "and a costly one. Forty thousand dead. Both within the city and without, the people cry out for justice. We know the truth, but the people will not listen."

"And even if they did," said Sansa, "would they care?"

Asha Greyjoy grit her teeth.

Young Lord Arryn crossed his arms, "So what now?"

Tyrion tilted his head. "Ah, what now? Well, I for one believe our path could not be clearer," he said, turning to Jon and Selene.

Selene swallowed.

"Children of the rebellion," Tyrion continued. "The son of Rhaegar Targaryen and the daughter of Robert Baratheon. History should have made enemies of them, but fate has brought them together in love."

Jon and Selene turned to hold each other's gaze. The rest of the room seemed to fade away as she looked into his eyes.

"Every family here played a part in that war," Tyrion said, his eyes always shifting between lord and lady. "Some allies, some enemies, all affected. We lost family, friends, smallfolk…but that is the past. It is our future, the future of Westeros, that I ask you to think of now.

"What better way to end the bloodshed, the constant warring of families, than with this union? The Houses Targaryen, Baratheon, Lannister and Stark, united by an honorable man and a brave woman, two who have sacrificed and bled for the realm a hundred times over."

"Forgive me, my lord," said Prince Doran, "but how do I know he is trueborn? He can ride a dragon, that much is true, but that does not prove my sister was set aside for Lyanna Stark."

"We have a maester's private diary," said Tyrion, "the vision of a greenseer and Ned Stark's own confession to Selene from years ago."

Lord Willas tsked, the way his grandmother did, "His old brother from the Night's Watch, his cousin and his wife. How are we to trust these sources?"

Tyrion opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

"You can trust me."

Lady Catelyn Stark rose.

Jon drew back in surprise.

Lady Catelyn held herself with dignity as she addressed the room. "The truth nearly died with my husband, but I am so grateful it did not. Ned Stark was the most honorable man I ever knew, and I never understood why he betrayed me so soon after our wedding." Her eyes hardened, "He did no such thing. My Ned lied to the world to keep his sister's trueborn son safe. To keep me and our children safe, for the truth would have destroyed us all.

"I, more than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms, have no reason to love Jon Snow," Catelyn said, "but he has never been Jon Snow. His name is Jon of Houses Targaryen and Stark. My-" her throat clenched, but she pressed on, "my single greatest regret is the way I treated him as a boy, a motherless child. Well, he is no motherless child anymore. His mother was Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and he is my king, from this day, until the end of his days."

Catelyn turned and sat down in stunned silence.

Selene slipped her fingers through Jon's as she turned to him. His eyes were dry, but his grip on her hand was tight, his knuckles white.

"Thank you, my lady," Jon said, his voice brimming with emotion.

Prince Doran gave Lady Stark a gentle smile, "Well spoken, my lady. I doubt there is any one in this room who doubts your sincerity."

"A fine thing, sincerity," said Lord Willas. "Admirable, but alone it does not make for a good king. I fear I have heard little of Jon in the south until quite recently, and most of it difficult to believe."

"Many of us here were there at Winterfell," said Sansa, "including your brother and grandmother. If this is about the Night King, and Azor Ahai-"

"I believe my family," said Willas curtly, "but winning a duel is not the same as ruling seven kingdoms. If I am to bend the knee, and renew House Tyrell's fealty to House Targaryen, then it must be to someone whose judgement I trust."

"You speak of judgement," said Tyrion, and then he called for the prisoners to be brought in. "Allow him to prove himself."

The two bound men were forced to their knees before Jon and Selene.

Euron Greyjoy was gagged, but still he grunted and bit at the rag in his mouth and twisted against his chains.

Qyburn was still, quiet, eyes on Selene's feet, as if he were dead already. This close, she saw the faint pink lines scarring his cheek, and she could almost feel the way her nails raked against his flesh. Seeing the scars reminded her that it was real, and not just a nightmare. She had fought him as best she could, but she could not save her son.

Hold her arms.

Hatred flared in her veins, Selene's eyes blazing at the man who took her child, and the one who took her life.

Tyrion gestured at the prisoners, "Before us, my lords and ladies, we have two men who have committed acts of evil. Qyburn, the chainless maester who murdered my niece's unborn child. Euron Greyjoy, whose crimes are too numerous to name here, but amongst them is murder. Their guilt is unquestionable, their crimes personal." He looked to Jon and Selene, "What shall be done with them?"

"He murdered my father," Lady Asha snarled. "My uncle deserves to pay the iron price. I demand he be given over to my custody."

The unmistakable sound of manic laughter burst from Euron as he writhed and jerked his face toward his niece.

Jon steepled his fingers below his chin, looking between the two men.

The chamber held its breath, all eyes on Jon.

Jon stood, "If I am to be king, I will not act alone." He offered Selene his arm. "If my lords will excuse us, I need to confer with my wife and queen."

Despite the prisoners at her feet and the grand company assembled, Selene found herself biting back a pleased smile. She reached and took her husband's arm, leading him toward the antechamber in the back, where the two could speak alone.

Once the door closed behind them, Jon's regal demeanor fell away. He sat with a sigh, and he was her Jon again. "I mislike being tested, but I suppose it's only fair for those who do not know us. What should we do about those two?"

Selene only stood by the door.

Jon turned, "Selene?"

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"You will not act alone."

Jon's frown relaxed, and he held out his hand.

Selene went to him, taking it. Jon looked up at her, stroking her palm with his thumb. "I meant every word. The crown is too great for one to bear alone. I trust your judgement, I need your help, and I want you ruling beside me."

For some reason, tears pricked her eyes.

Jon looked mildly alarmed at that, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Selene said quickly, shaking her head and taking a deep breath. She placed her hand on her belly. "I'm…I'm happy, is all." Strangely, she thought. This is not the time for happiness, but the feeling was unmistakable.

Jon gave her a small smile, but then it was gone, "I want them both dead."

"As do I," Selene agreed, "but Asha Greyjoy has a point. He murdered her father."

"He murdered my wife," Jon scowled.

Selene gave him a half smile. "I know. I was there, remember?" She slowly began to pace the length of the table. "If we grant Asha's request, it shows we respect the Iron Islands sovereignty."

"And do we?"

Selene thought for a moment, "Daenerys granted Asha the Iron Islands in exchange for her support, and respect to the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms. No more roving, reaping, raping, or raiding."

"Sounds fair."

"It does, but it also means the Iron Islands are not under our protection. Should harm befall them, it might serve the ironborn to be part of the Seven Kingdoms, as they were under my father, and the Targaryens before him." Selene paused. "Daenerys should be here."

"She was invited."

Selene thought she misheard him. "What?"

"Daenerys was invited to this council. She refused. I told you, Selene…she's gone away inside."

Selene blinked back tears of frustration, "How can I sit here and rule while she suffers in isolation? I want to see her."

Jon leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, "There it is. That cursed word."

Selene's lip twisted.

After a few moments, Jon asked, "What about Qyburn?"

At that, Selene felt a wave of hate so strong it nearly knocked her off her feet. When she spoke, her voice dripped with malice. "What would you do to the man who did that to you?"

"I've killed men for less."

Selene felt her grief like wine, filling her belly and making her head swim. She wanted to surrender to it, to let it take control of her. Daenerys called it the darkness, and it was screaming her name, pulling on her limbs, calling her toward it.

"Kill?" Selene asked. "And have it be over so quickly? I mean what would you do to him, Jon? What would you do to make him beg for the Stranger's kiss? Would you feed him to a dragon? Burn him alive…or worse?"

To her surprise, Jon looked calm. "None of that. I would not let him turn me into the monster that he is."

Selene looked away.

"I won't pretend to understand how you feel, but I know-"

"No," Selene cut him off. "No, you don't. You don't know what it is to carry a child, to dream of him. To feel him beneath your palm and wonder if he'll be good or kind or strong." Oddly, her eyes were dry, the grief like a dull blade pressed against her side. "You don't know how it feels to have your child's life blood seep between your legs, or to look his murderer in the eye…but I do."

"You're feeling it now, aren't you?" Jon asked quietly. "The darkness."

Selene grimaced, but gave him a nod.

Jon stood, taking her hands in his, and kissing them hard. "Remember what I told you at Winterfell? In the ancient crypts."

You won't make this easy for me, will you?

Selene only saw Qyburn's weathered face, only heard his words, only felt the touch of the men holding her down, the tansy tea sliding down her unwilling throat.

I could have you beaten bloody, raped and defiled, your child carved out of your belly.

Jon continued, "It's easier to call it darkness, and surrender to it, then to face it. Then to do what is right in spite of it."

Selene turned her back to him and looked out the stained-glass window. The glass was wrought into a seven-pointed star, for the Seven. She placed a hand on her belly. If it wasn't for that man, I would be a mother. I would have a son, a young boy to cherish and love, and Robb would have a piece of him in the world. That thought made Selene want to string Qyburn up by the throat and watch crows feed on his eyes.

"His crimes are unforgivable," Jon said, "and they were done to you, not me. I will support your decision."

It's a new dawn, Selene thought to herself. After years of war and turmoil, there is peace. I am pregnant and happy and free. I will not let that man take my peace from me.

###

Jon leaned back in his chair, "Lady Greyjoy…I offer you your uncle's life, in exchange for the same agreement you came to with Daenerys Targaryen. You will support my claim as king of the Seven Kingdoms, and respect the laws of the Seven Kingdoms. No reaving, roving, raiding, or raping."

Asha's knuckles went white where they gripped the arm of her chair. "I swore to stand beside Daenerys Targaryen."

"Or," Jon continued as if she hadn't spoken, "you can bend the knee, and arise Asha Greyjoy, Lady of the Iron Islands. Bend the knee, and your people will have our protection and help in times of need. Refuse us if you will, but you shall not break the peace. Do so, and you will not live to regret it."

Asha narrowed her eyes, "You would make us your subjects."

"We would make you our people," Jon said. "This is the best you could hope for."

Asha Greyjoy looked about the room, at the faces of all the lords and ladies she would have to stand against if it came to war. For a moment, the long-legged lady of the Iron Islands looked small in her seat.

Finally, she gave Jon a terse nod.

Jon leaned back in his chair, satisfied, "Lady Asha of the Iron Islands, your men may take your prisoner."

Asha Greyjoy gestured to one of the men against the wall.

Two ironborn hoisted Euron by his arms. The rogue struggled and kicked against them with all he had, his wild eyes on Selene where she sat with a satisfied smile.

As the door closed behind them, the lords and ladies of Westeros turned to Selene, but she only had eyes for the false maester at her feet.

Selene began to tap the arm of her chair with her finger.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Qyburn raised his eyes to meet hers. They were blank and cold. Empty.

"I would not have done it if it wasn't for Lord Tywin," Qyburn said, his voice tired and worn.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

"I had no choice."

Selene's finger paused, hovering. "Do you know where Tywin Lannister is now?"

Qyburn's eyes were on her finger, as if it was the sword that would execute him. "No, Your Grace."

"He's feeding worms below the dirt. Do you know how I know?"

Qyburn shook his head.

Selene leaned forward. "Because I put him there."

Qyburn paled.

"Tywin Lannister is gone," Selene said, her heart as cold as her words. "The Freys are gone. I destroyed their castle. The Boltons are gone. Their castle has been renamed in my honor. Leaving only you. You alone remain."

Qyburn was shaking like a leaf in a gale, "Please, Your Grace-"

"No," Selene's voice cracked like a whip. "You don't get to beg. You don't get to plead for mercy. Where was your mercy when you had a helpless, pregnant widow in your keeping? Where was your mercy when you cut the heart out of me?"

Qyburn sobbed, pressing his face into the ground at her feet. His muffled voice drifted through the room, "I will burn in all seven hells for what I did to you."

Selene was dimly aware of the others in the room watching her, but they felt very far away. She felt it in her heart, the darkness Daenerys spoke of. She wanted to throw herself into it, to let it fill her veins like fire.

I…I will not let him turn me into the monster that he is.

Selene straightened, "I will not have my first act as queen be an execution, no matter how deserved." As much as I hate him. As much as I want to watch him die… "I sentence you to life in a black cell. You will never see the light of day, never feel the fresh air on your skin, never hear another human voice. You will live with the consequence of your actions, deep beneath the earth, while I? I will live above you in the sunlight, with all the children you cannot take from me. Children who will never know the horrors of men like you. Now get out of my sight."

Ser Jaime Lannister came from behind her, dragging the blubbering master to his feet and out of the chamber.

When he was gone, the sun broke through the clouds, and golden light flooded the chamber. It was then Selene realized Jon was holding her hand, his eyes shining with pride.

Selene felt like she could breathe again. Perhaps for the first time in years.

Tyrion stepped back into the center of the room. "Jon Targaryen and Selene Baratheon…you both have claims, titles, birthrights…but more than that. Good heads on your shoulders, brave hearts, merciful natures. You two would not only be respected and feared, you would be loved. Someone who can and should rule…centuries come and go without a person like that coming into the world, and we are blessed with two."

Tyrion drew himself up to his full height, "To Jon of Houses Targaryen and Stark, Selene of Houses Baratheon and Lannister…I say aye."

Selene held her breath.

"Aye."

All eyes turned to Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell, her blue eyes sparkling.

Tyrion gave her a grateful smile.

"Aye," said Lord Gendry Baratheon, with a solemn nod to his sister.

Ser Brynden Tully stared hard at his nephew, as Catelyn did to her brother.

Lord Edmure shifted in his seat, his thumb rubbing against the palm of his hand in deep thought. After a moment, he cleared his throat, "Aye."

"Aye," said young Lord Arryn, furtively glancing between his lady cousin and lord uncle.

Asha Greyjoy straightened in her seat, begrudging respect on her features. "Aye."

Lord Willas and Prince Doran exchanged looks.

All eyes fell to the southern rulers.

Lord Tyrell looked between his grandmother and brother, "There is perhaps no two in this world I trust more then those beside me, and after all they've said, and all I've seen here today…I say aye."

Prince Doran rubbed his beard, his daughter at his right hand, looking between her father and Ser Garlan.

Prince Oberyn was smirking once again.

Doran raised a brow, "It appears my brother has something to say."

Oberyn chuckled softly, "For once, my brother is wrong. I have nothing to say, only eager to begin the celebrations. The gods know we all deserve it."

Disbelieving titters broke out amongst them.

"Too true," Prince Doran conceded, his dark eyes on Jon and Selene. "Aye."

Tyrion's eyes were misting as he looked up proudly, "All hail King Jon of Houses Targaryen and Stark, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, the White Wolf, the Prince Who Was Promised."

The lords and ladies rose to their feet, speaking in loud, clear voices, "All hail King Jon!"

Jon himself stood, offering Selene his hand. She took it, rising.

"Thank you for your faith, my lords and ladies," Jon said grandly, "but I will not rule alone. My wife is not my consort, but my queen and equal. In all things."

Tyrion bowed low, a small smirk on his lips that Selene alone saw. "All hail Queen Selene of Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Winter's Fury, the Martyr."

The lords and ladies followed suit. "All hail Queen Selene!"

###

For the first time, Selene saw Daenerys Targaryen truly disheveled.

The light had drained from her eyes, turning the violet to grey, dark circles hanging beneath them. Her braids were unkempt, though Missandei was only just outside, meaning Daenerys could not be bothered with something so trivial. Selene suspected appearances were far from her mind.

Daenerys did not turn at her entry, her eyes on the city. "I have never been so close to the Iron Throne, or so far from it."

Selene did not reply, only went to pour them wine. She walked to the balcony that overlooked the city and was relieved to see the smoke had cleared. Though black spots dotted the capital like spots of rot flecked through wood.

She handed Daenerys a cup.

Daenerys' eyes swept her, "Blue suits you."

Selene stared down into the contents of her goblet. "Why didn't you come to the council?"

Daenerys gave a hollow laugh, "And have to look them all in the eyes? After what I've done? May as well send for the executioner myself."

"I wouldn't let that happen. You're under my protection."

"Your protection," Daenerys mused, swirling her wine, and taking a sip. "It's done, then?"

Selene held her gaze, "The council declared us king and queen this morning."

Daenerys drank long and deep.

Selene turned her gaze back to the city. King's Landing is my home once more. This is where I'll raise my children. In this very castle, where my brothers, sister and I were raised. Where Jon's father was raised. Those thoughts made her oddly happy.

Daenerys' eyes, too, were on the city. "They want me dead."

Selene kept her silence.

"They say I'm mad." Daenerys hesitated. "Madness is a Targaryen's curse, I suppose."

Selene shook her head, "Power is a Targaryen's curse. Too much, unchecked, or too little, stripped away."

Agony flashed in her eyes. "Do…do you think I'm mad?"

"No."

Daenerys sighed with relief. "I saw my child fall from the sky," she said, desperate to explain herself. "I…I wanted to destroy those scorpions before they took Drogon and Rhaegal, too. I didn't mean…I never wanted-"

Selene reached forward and took her hand, "I know."

Daenerys shook, "I wish I deserved their hate. It would make this easier."

Selene only stared at their joined hands. And that is the greatest tragedy of all. Daenerys is not mad. "I know, Dany. I know."

Daenerys leaned her head against her shoulder. Selene wrapped an arm around her, and together they watched the sun sink lower into the sky.

"I have lost everything."

Selene bit her lip, "You have your Dothraki, your Unsullied-"

"Grey Worm died."

Selene felt the news like a blow. "I didn't know."

"He died in the flames, trying to get people to safety. He died because of me." Daenerys was quiet for a moment. "He's been with me since my children were babes. Not as long as-"

Ser Jorah Mormont.

"Like I said," Daenerys sighed. "Everything."

"You have your life."

Daenerys grimaced, "When my sun and stars was alive but not, the witch who took him from me told me to look upon him. Then I would see exactly what life is worth, when all the rest is gone."

Selene struggled to find words of comfort, but none came. She could only try. "I felt the same. After the Twins, after the kingsroad. I'm sorry, Dany."

Daenerys looked out to the horizon.

"I know the Iron Throne has been your goal," Selene said, "but believe me, the city grieves and the realm boils. The commonfolk are terrified of you, and the lords have rejected you. It's over."

"I…What would you do, if you were me?"

Selene tried to imagine, but could not. "I don't know, truly. Maybe…you could go back to Essos."

"If I don't deserve the Iron Throne, I don't deserve to rule the Bay of Dragons." Daenerys looked to Selene. "I don't know what to do."

"I only know…"

Daenerys gave her a blank look.

"You can't stay in Westeros."

Daenerys blinked, "Exile."

"And where could you go?" Selene asked in exasperation. "Could you rule Dragonstone? Stay here as Hand? The lords would never allow it. The people would never accept it."

"Exile," Daenerys said again. Her eyes flicked back and forth in deep thought. "I could take Missandel back to Naath. I could explore the Summer Isles."

Selene nearly smiled at that.

"Better than death."

"Yes," Selene agreed. "Better than death. The Dothraki and Unsullied…"

"I'll need ships," Daenerys said. "Ships to carry them home. After all they have sacrificed for me…I need to take them home."

Selene nodded, "Consider it done."

"Sacrifice…" Daenerys turned to Selene, her eyes dry. Slowly, she drew back the fabric of her dress, revealing unblemished skin. Dany's fingertips were gentle, "The red god's curse…"

"Gone," Selene said. "Jon is on the Iron Throne. The future has changed once more."

"You were willing to sacrifice yourself for me," Daenerys muttered. "I will leave in peace, for you." She looked up, something like relief in her eyes, "You will live?"

"Yes," Selene smiled at the happiness on her friend's face, "yes, I think I will."

Daenerys laughed sharply. "Your six…"

A wide smile swallowed Selene's face, her eyes wet, "My six. Rhaegar, Robert and the rest. And Alysanne."

Dany looked up, disbelieving. "After everything?"

"Always," Selene swore.

The two stood there for ages, watching as the sun turned the sky yellow, then orange, then red. As the red faded to dusk, Daenerys turned and walked away.

Selene shut her eyes, wishing the world were different.

She did not expect Daenerys to rejoin her on the balcony, but she did. And she was holding something.

Daenerys placed Selene's slim black coronet on the balcony between them.

Selene swallowed forcefully.

"I had it made for you," Daenerys said. "It's yours."

"You gave it to your heir," Selene's voice was sad in her own ears, "and I threw your gift back in your face."

"Perhaps," Daenerys admitted, "but I'll have little use for it in Essos. Take it. Give it to your heir."

Selene rubbed her thumb over the black opals, watching the wisps of Targaryen crimson and Baratheon gold dance in the dying light.

"Fire and fury," Selene whispered.

Daenerys Targaryen smiled, and it was beautiful.

"Fire and fury."


Author's Note

Sorry for the scare, but if TVJon can survive a crash landing in the snow, than the sea should be a breeze! Also, I hope this conveys a joint monarchy. Think William III and Mary II.

One more chapter left! And then a hefty little epilogue - I just couldn't help myself. Plus an amazing artist has created some breathtaking fan-art which I am so excited to share with the epilogue.

Thank you all for your views and reviews. Please spare a few seconds to leave a review if you can! Until next time.

Desert: Haha, love unholy shrieking. Thank you!
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Colo Kid: Thanks! Yeah, I do appreciate that this was a very dense chapter, but it seemed weird to split it down the middle. As far as Jon, as the show had him fall from Rhaegal in the snow and survive (with like, no injuries), I'd hope it would be a bit less of a surprise that he survived. Selene's curse disappearing would make her think that he died, but as this chapter shows, it's because the future has been changed (as a grieving Dany decided to burn the walls, and the following events would lead to Jon assuming the throne). As far as Dany's introspection/her greater concern for her dragon than Jon, she just saw her child shot out of the sky. Jon is her nephew, sure, but the two were never close and the relationship between them has been tense for a while. Viserion, though, is her literal child. And after watching him die, she's seeing the remains of her mad father's legacy destroy the very city she came to rule. I did, however, have Daenerys buckle down and help Selene in the end. As always, thanks for your super thoughtful review.