2. Jon
They were met on the beach by the Imp and Daenerys' Queensguard. Hermione and Ser Davos followed steadily behind him as they climbed the outer castle steps. The air smelt of salt and brimstone. The castle itself was not a pretty sight. Built from black stone that had seen the years of neglect as it grew more terrifying in its abandonment.
The roar of something terrible from above gave them all pause as they stumbled on the steps. He felt Hermione behind him and turned just in time to grasp her wrist before she fell. He barely had time to acknowledge her thank you before the roar repeated itself. This time shaking the ground beneath them. They cast their eyes above them and even Jon couldn't help the gasp of shock as he watched the dragon fly over.
Beside him, he saw Tyrion Lannister smirk. "This way my Lord."
The Imp led them through the castle, all of which seemed rather rough and austere in appearance to Jon. It lacked warmth, no doubt from being abandoned for so long. There was nothing entirely homely about what Jon had seen. It was all imposing walls and terrifyingly grotesque statues. It imposed power and exuded strength.
Their arrival in the throne room was marked by the crunch of the sea sand beneath their shoes against the cold floor. In her assumed throne, sat Daenerys Targaryen looking down at them as they entered. They all came to a stop as the girl standing beside Daenerys stepped forward.
When she spoke her voice, clear and unwavering echoed through the empty throne room. "You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains."
There was silence and none of them was certain what to say next until Ser Davos coughed, stepping forward just behind him.
"This is Jon Snow. He's King in the North," Ser Davos said plainly.
Beside him, Jon swore he heard Hermione chuckle quietly. Jon watched as Daenerys' eyes flickered between their small party. It lingered a little too long on Hermione and then quickly found him again.
Jon stepped forward. "We thank you for the invite, Your Grace." He hoped by adding the formal title, she would be more receptive to them.
She smiled, though there was little warmth in it. "You thank me yet you're still standing."
Jon stood tall, as he replied. "I have not come to bend the knee."
Her smile quickly disappeared. "Then why have you come?"
"Unfortunately, we have more important matters than the Iron Throne," Jon told her.
He always hated this part. Telling people about the wights and walkers and the looming threat of the Night King. It all made him sound completely crazy and that was only further exemplified when word of his resurrection comes to light.
Daenerys scowled and cast her withering glance at him, but he wasn't frightened.
"And what should be so important, Jon Snow?" She asked.
"King Jon," Ser Davos corrected.
Jon could see the frustration beginning to emerge as her fingers flexed on her throne. She didn't bother acknowledging Ser Davos' correction as she continued.
"Well?"
"Our survival," Jon answered. "There is a great war coming."
"Yes, I had rather hoped not to have to start it, but I am the Queen and I will have my throne." Daenerys retorted smartly.
Jon shook his head. "This is not a war for the throne but for our lives." She didn't react much further than a slight frown but he was not to be discouraged. "Beyond the walls of our realm walks a great threat. The Long Night is still to come and with it come the dead."
Daenerys did her best to control her shock, Jon knew but it was not good enough. She turned to her Hand and levelled him with an equally questioning look but this was out of even his understanding.
"You expect me to believe such tales?" she asked.
"These are no tales," Jon said harshly. "I haven't come all this way to spin pretty stories. This is real."
"If you have such deep perils Jon Snow, and you aren't going to bend the knee, then why have you travelled all this way?" She asked.
"Beneath your castle, sits a mountain of dragonglass," Jon told her. "Dragonglass is the only thing that can kill a walker."
"So you ask for my help but refuse to bend the knee?" Daenerys clarified with a raised brow.
Jon exhaled. "You are a Queen to your people in every way that I am a King to mine. I am only trying to protect my people."
She stared at him but Jon didn't fidget, meeting her eyes in solemn seriousness. "If my education serves me correct, your ancestor, Torren Stark bent the knee to Aegon Targaryen. He pledged House Stark's fealty to House Targaryen, forever. Whatever happened to that promise?" She asked shrewdly.
Jon frowned. "If we're going to discuss ancestors, should we talk about your father burning my uncle and grandfather?"
Daenerys looked a little red-faced there. "My father was a cruel evil man. I should only ask that you don't hold his actions against me."
"As you can see, my lady," Ser Davos interrupted, "There is much history between these two houses. Not all of it is good. But –"
"Do you know what kept me sane, in all my years in exile, Jon Snow?" Daenerys asked, her eyes narrowing. "Faith in myself. Not in my house or the stories, my brother told of our legacy. Not in the promise of home or throne. But just in myself. The world had never seen the likes of dragons till I stepped from the flames with my children. The Dothraki horde had never stepped foot on a boat until I brought them here." She stood and walked down the steps to him. "Make no mistake, Jon Snow, regardless of whatever pretty stories you tell, I will still have my throne."
"Then you'll be ruling over a graveyard." Jon replied. "This is real and if you want to be any sort of Queen, you'll listen."
Daenerys looked unmoved for a moment. "Let us speak a little more on these matters after supper, Jon Snow."
There wasn't much to be said beyond that especially as she quickly left the throne room. Jon turned and saw Ser Davos give him a grim smile.
"I suppose that could have gone better," Jon grumbled.
"Could have gone worse too," Ser Davos reminded him.
"Arrangements have been made for your stay in the Stone Drum. I'm sure you'll find them most suitable." Tyrion Lannister said as he came up to them.
Jon thanked him as they too left the throne room. The lodgings as Tyrion had promised were most suitable. Jon had just removed his cloak when he heard a knock at the door. He answered it expecting to find Ser Davos or even the Imp again. But it was not.
"Hermione," he said surprised.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace," she faltered and then blushed so deeply Jon couldn't help but think it somewhat adorable. "I -uhm… it's okay." She turned to leave but Jon caught her by the elbow.
"What troubles you m' lady?" he asked her gently.
Jon's eyes flickered down watching as Hermione bit her lip unconsciously. Her unsteady voice jarred him from his reverie.
"It's … this whole mission," she admitted. "What if she doesn't agree for us to mine the dragonglass? What will we do?" she asked sounding slightly panicked. "How can we go back to Winterfell with no dragonglass. We have no other plans!"
Jon knew she sounded quite hysterical and he understood her worries better than anyone else. But the little foot stomp at the end of her tirade diffused any real venom she held in her words. He ducked his head hoping to hide his smile, guessing she probably would not take too kindly to that. As it were, he was quite surprised she was as worried about this as he was.
"Is that what worries you?" he eventually asked. "We have no other options?"
"Yes."
"You make a fair point, Hermione," Jon said. "Perhaps we should wait till after supper to worry about these things?"
"Do you think she'll agree?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know." He said with much resignation. "As Ser Davos said there is much bad blood between our houses."
"I suppose," Hermione sighed. "But this isn't about who sits on that bloody chair!" she huffed.
Jon chuckled and she turned almost instinctively to glare at him but quickly remembered who he was and blushed furiously. "I … that was too bold. I'm sorry."
"No, please don't apologise. I find I rather like it," he told her still laughing.
Hermione ducked her head suppressing a smile. "She seems dangerously determined." Hermione said a moment later. "Though I can understand."
"You can?" he asked surprised.
"Hm, she's been underestimated all her life. Sold and raped and moved from one place to the next. Nothing has ever been constant for her." Hermione explained.
Jon thought carefully on her words. "She's been a princess all her life." He said. "And a Queen far longer than I've been a King."
"And you'd think she'd have mastered the art of diplomacy better by now," Hermione snarked.
He laughed again taking a step closer to her. "Thank you." He said sincerely. "I hope I haven't caused you too much trouble in requesting your presence on this trip."
Hermione smiled. "It was no trouble at all. You are after all my King."
Jon was genuinely shocked by that. He had thought Hermione had simply said that to appease Sansa. But there was something so inexplicably sincere in how she said it that Jon realised she was telling the truth.
"I am?" He questioned nevertheless. "I mean I would understand, my lady if you felt otherwise. Despite what has occurred you are not obliged to swear yourself to House Stark."
"Why thank you, Your Grace. That's very kind of you," she teased lightly. "I don't swear my fealty to your house because you saved my life. I do it because I know what you speak of is true. And -" she hesitated.
"And?"
"Since my uh- arrival, I have experienced only the warmth and hospitality of the North. I would be a fool to so quickly forget that kindness." Hermione answered.
Jon sensed there was more she wanted to say, but he didn't push her. Her arrival had caused a fair bit of drama in the court but they had more pressing matters to deal with. It certainly helped her case that she had looked completely petrified of the wight at the moment he had stumbled upon her.
"We are pleased to have you amongst us then," Jon said.
"What shall you do if she doesn't agree to the dragonglass?" Hermione asked a moment later.
Jon scratched at his beard, thoughtfully. "I'm not entirely sure I have a diplomatic answer to that."
Hermione looked at him for a second and then laughed. It was as light and as infectious of a sound as Jon had ever heard.
She gathered herself rather quickly as they heard footsteps stomping about outside. "I should go… coming here, like this wasn't entirely appropriate, was it?" she asked biting her lip, nervously.
Jon sighed. He didn't want her to leave but he knew she was right. He would hate to see her honour questioned if someone came upon them. Rumours spread rather quickly in court. The nastier the rumour, the faster it travels. She bid him goodnight as she made her way to the door.
"Hermione," he called stalling her for just a moment. "Thank you."
He didn't specify anything. He knew he didn't need too especially when she smiled back at him. Jon called on that memory – one of Hermione smiling so confidently and full of faith and hope in him – much later on that night as he sat down alone with the Dragon Queen.
They had much to talk about.
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