3. Hermione
She had agreed. It came almost effortlessly that they were all rather startled by it. But something about Jon Snow had moved the Mother of Dragons to agree to their request. King Jon had wasted no time in having their men start mining the dragonglass. Hermione wasn't entirely bought on why she had agreed so quickly but she, like their King had decided not to question it too closely just yet.
"You look troubled, Ser Davos," Hermione noted as she came to stand beside the Onion Knight.
The men below were working tirelessly. The smell coming from the mines was something wretched.
Ser Davos sighed, looking around cautiously before he spoke. "She still expects him to bend the knee."
"Is that why she agreed so quickly? She gives us what we want and then we'll have no choice but to call her Queen?" Hermione asked aghast.
Ser Davos looked rather grim. "Afraid so m' lady."
"Do you think he will?"
"I cannot say." Ser Davos answered frowning. Though, Hermione noted that all he ever did these days was frown. "He has not spoken of his plans with the Mother of Dragons." He turned to Hermione, looking at her expectantly.
"You think he's told me?"
"He is rather fond of you m' lady." Ser Davos noted, a knowing look twinkling in his eyes.
"Perhaps so. But he is still a King and he is wary with whom he seeks for counsel. I would think it would be you he sort out for help." Hermione said.
"Let us hope he keeps he senses long enough for us to leave without having to do anything rash." Ser Davos said.
As if speaking about him had called him into existence, King Jon rounded the corner and looked pleasantly relieved to see them both.
"How goes the mining?" Ser Davos asked him.
"Slower than I would have liked."
"Better than nothing though." Ser Davos reminded him.
"Will you do as she wants?" Hermione asked him. She blushed when she realized that perhaps she had spoken to brashly.
King Jon regarded her for a moment before he answered. "I don't know."
"You can't." Hermione whispered.
"She's given us what we want." King Jon said. "It would be an insult not to."
"It's an insult that she's asked this of you! That she would do something so seemingly good only to expect you to insult your own people!"
"It's not like that. She's. –"
"Using what we need to get what she wants. And it's very clever. But you have to be cleverer, Your Grace." Hermione said sternly. King Jon looked at her, the depths of his eyes boring into her and she blushed again. He braced himself against the railing, almost subtly leaning in towards her. "Don't forget, King Jon, first of your name, that you were chosen to lead the North. They chose you. Not her."
"The lady speaks wisely." Ser Davos said looking between the two with a little smirk.
"Yes, she does." King Jon agreed still looking at her. "But what would you have me do? We need the dragonglass."
Hermione bit her lip. For all her arguments on the matter, she didn't have a workable plan to follow through with.
"Maybe we just work on getting what we need first." Ser Davos offered. They both turned to look at him. "No promises need to be made just yet."
"Do you think that would please her?" King Jon asked him.
"I imagine very little but the idea of sitting the throne pleases the Mother of Dragons." Ser Davos said wryly.
Hermione bit back a chuckle but then stopped when she noted the quick change in Ser Davos' demeanour, as he grew if possible, more serious.
She heard the faint clicking of boots behind her and had a sinking feeling as to why.
"Jon Snow," Daenerys Stormborn greeted. Hermione turned and the Mother of Dragons gave her a clear once over. Beside her were the Imp and her handmaiden. "Ser Davos and Lady …"
"Hermione," King Jon offered.
"Of course."
Hermione dipped her head in respect but did nothing more.
"I hope your stay on Dragonstone has been pleasant," Daenerys said.
"Yes, thank you." King Jon answered.
"You have been a most gracious host," Hermione added.
Daenerys barely smiled at her before turning back to King Jon. "I see your men have made steady progress."
"Yes, we cannot afford to waste any time."
"So when can we expect a return on our gracious favour?" Tyrion asked politely but the quirk of his mouth and his raised brow suggested otherwise.
The air grew tense with each passing moment his question hung unanswered.
"You ask for something we cannot give you." Ser Davos finally said.
"But you have asked so much of us." Tyrion countered.
"You didn't know of its existence until we told you about it," Hermione spoke defiantly.
Both King Jon and Ser Davos looked at her in surprise. Seeing that she had everyone's attention, she decided to continue. "You ask for something we cannot give you."
Daenerys did not look too pleased. "You dare to speak for your king?" she sneered the word like it left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Who are you to deny me? I am the Queen. You are no one."
Hermione flushed in embarrassment. She refused to look at either Ser Davos or King Jon.
"Lady Hermione is of my trusted counsel. She dares to speak because she can." King Jon said tautly.
"Will you do what I have asked?" Daenerys simply asked.
King Jon sighed. "This is not a decision I can take yet. And certainly not on my own."
"What sort of King are you Jon Snow?" Daenerys taunted.
"An honourable King," Hermione answered.
Daenerys smirked. "I've heard quite a lot about the Starks and their honour."
"I am not a Stark." King Jon replied.
"No. you're not." She mused. "So, where does that leave us?"
"I think you know the answer to that." Ser Davos said.
"Then we are wasting our time," Daenerys said turning to Tyrion, almost silently blaming him.
"You think saving lives is a waste of our time?" King Jon questioned. Hermione could hear the anger in his voice.
"I have heard no tales of this supposed evil you're expecting," Daenerys said. "Such tales belong in songs and lore."
"Such tales are what songs and lore are built on." Ser Davos countered.
"It was erroneous of us to widely accept your tale but I did it in good faith that you would return the favour."
"You don't believe him." Hermione suddenly said. She'd heard Daenerys throw the word 'tale' around as if they were discussing nothing more than children's night terrors. "You don't believe anything that we've told you. And that's okay. It's a crazy story. The dead coming back. But it's not just a story. If fate and destiny had brought you here, Daenerys Stormborn then surely it brought Jon Snow back for a reason too? He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He went beyond the wall and survived. He fought and almost died for his people. They chose him. He's just a bastard. No name. No castle. Nothing. But still, the North chose him. Why do you think that is?" Hermione asked tremulously. Though her voice shook and her hands quivered, she didn't shrink under the gaze of the Targaryen queen. "Who cares who sits on the Iron Throne if there is no Kingdom to rule over?"
Daenerys looked stonily at them all as Hermione quickly felt her courage leave her as she shrunk back beside Ser Davos. She chanced a glance at him only to find him looking oddly smug. King Jon looked at her in surprise, this time not bothering to cover his emotions.
"You speak very highly of a bastard King, Lady Hermione." Daenerys said. "And have given us much to think about."
"He's only trying to protect and honour his people. As you have done." Hermione finished.
Daenerys didn't seem to have anything further to add. She merely cast them all one final look before leaving the corridor in a hurry. The handmaiden followed after her but Tyrion lingered for a moment eyeing them all judiciously before he too turned and disappeared.
"Well done, m' lady." Ser Davos cheered.
Hermione blushed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to overstep! I keep doing that! But she just …"
"It's okay." King Jon gently assured her. "Thank you."
"What will we do now?" she asked him.
"Ser Davos," King Jon said turning to him. "We need to work faster. I don't know how much longer our host's hospitality will extend to us. Let us make the most of the time."
Ser Davos nodded. "Let me see what can be done, Your Grace." He didn't wait for a reply, instead, he turned and left them alone in the quiet corridor.
"I am sorry if I spoke too far out of turn, Your Grace." Hermione said quietly.
"Jon," He finally said.
"I'm sorry?"
"Please call me Jon. All this formality… makes me bloody uncomfortable." He said with an aggrieved sigh.
Hermione covered her lips with her fingers as she smothered her laugh. "I'm not entirely sure that is appropriate."
"Neither is having a bastard for a King." He replied smoothly.
"You're breaking all the rules," Hermione teased.
"I was never really good at following rules."
"Me either," Hermione admitted.
"Oh?" he sounded surprised. "And what sort of trouble did you find m'lady?"
"The worst sort." Hermione replied with a little chuckle. And then decided it couldn't hurt to give him a little more. "In my first year at school, I set my teacher's clothes on fire, I was also petrified by a giant snake, took part in a rebellion to bring down an evil lord and …oh! During said rebellion broke out of a bank on the back of a dragon."
Jon looked utterly astonished. Hermione blushed wondering if she had said too much and quickly looked down at her boots. She wondered what she could possibly say to make it less awkward when he finally said, "I would never have thought you'd be so troublesome."
Hermione looked up at him and then a moment later realized he was teasing her.
"That's not even the half of it," she promised him. "Although to be fair I was never alone in this."
"Oh?"
She hummed her response as she thought fondly of Harry and Ron then. All their escapades in school and after. She wondered about them from time to time. She tried not to linger too long on those memories. She needed her wits about her if she was to survive Westeros. Being lost in memories from another time would do her no good. But now as King Jon looked at her curiously, an aching sense of homesickness rose within her. Merlin how she missed her friends. She wondered if they were looking for her. She wondered and hoped Harry and Ron didn't think she abandoned them. Her heart ached at not knowing how much time passed between the two realities, and how much she was therefore missing out on. When she looked back up at King Jon, there was realization shining bright in his eyes.
"You must miss home," he said quietly.
"Very much." She averted her eyes quickly as she swallowed back her tears.
"I am very sorry, Hermione."
"Thank you." She mumbled. She hastily wiped at her tears. "But there is no time for missing home now is there?" she asked somewhat sadly.
He gave her a sad little smile that told her more about his own experience in this than any words could. "There is always time to miss home." He said and then gestured for her to follow him down the corridor. "Once we leave for Winterfell, preparations will need to be made for –"
"The final battle?" Hermione offered. She hated those words; hitting her with far too much familiarity.
"Yes." King Jon answered and then he looked at her almost hesitantly.
"What is it that you're afraid to ask of me, Jon?" she asked. He smiled a little at the sound of his name leaving her lips unencumbered by any titles.
"It's not what I must ask you to do. But what I must do." He said.
Hermione stopped walking, looking at him anxiously. "You aren't thinking of bending the knee are you?"
"Not yet." He assured her. "Though, I think soon enough we will have to give her a proper answer."
"Then what is it?"
"I must go North. Beyond the Wall." King Jon said gravelly.
Hermione felt her stomach twist at that. "No! You can't! Why would you think you need to do that?" she demanded. All sense of propriety was now forgotten.
"We need to catch a wight." He told her. "We need proof they exist. Daenerys barely believes our story as it is."
"So?" she asked only vaguely aware she sounded quite petulant.
"We need more men, Hermione. We need more soldiers and no lord is going to send their men if they don't believe us." King Jon explained.
"But why does it have to be you?" She insisted. "You're the King. Surely there are other people who can go in your place." She grimaced as she realized how demanding her words sounding. Bastard or not, he was still her King.
In a bold move, he reached for her hand, taking it in his to soothe her worries. King Jon smiled ruefully. "Surely, by now Lady Hermione you know I'm not that kind of king."
Hermione bit her lip, gasping a little at the comforting warmth he offered. She blushed and stared down at their hands. But despite all the comfort and warmth, he offered her then she was unable to ignore the facts. She hated that he was right. She did know that he was not that kind of king. He would never take the easy route out and send someone in his place. King Jon led by example, from the front lines of every battle he'd been in.
"I know." She sighed. She felt goosebumps rise along her arm as he felt him run his thumb over her hand. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
He chuckled. "I suppose not."
Feeling oddly embolden she took a step closer to him, watching in some delight as his eyes widen, and he tensed just so. "May I be so bold as to ask something of you, Jon?"
He dipped his head a little. "Of course."
"I understand the need to do this. And I don't like it." She said her voice thick with emotion.
"But?" he prompted gently.
"Don't make yourself a martyr. You're no good to us dead beyond the Wall." She said firmly. "Your people chose you for a reason. They expect their King to be by their side when the walkers come."
Surprisingly he smiled, quite sincerely too. "Is that what you expect too, Hermione?"
She flushed. Perhaps it had been too bold of her to ask this of her King. "Maybe it was presumptuous of me to ask this of you. I am not of the North, like you. I have no right to."
"But you do." He interrupted. "And who's to say you're not of the North?" he chuckled.
"I'm not though. You know this." She said almost narrowing her eyes at the humour she saw in her King's eyes. "You were the one that found me!"
"In the Godswood, aye." King Jon answered. His fingers grasped her hand a little tighter. "In the home of the Northern Gods. And if that isn't a message from the Gods, then I'm not entirely sure what is anymore."
"So just because I was found there, you're willing to trust me? I could have –"
"Killed me?" he offered with a little laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him again, but he didn't seem to bothered. "Yes, I am quite certain you could. But you haven't," he said eyeing her closely. "I trust you not because the Gods told me too."
"Then why do you?"
"Because I want to." He answered honestly. "Because you saw what I saw and you know they're real."
Hermione shuddered at the memory of encountering the wight in the Godswood. King Jon had been right that she saw what he did and had from her first day in Winterfell believed all the evils he spoke of to be true. For she had seen them herself.
"And because," he said exhaling a little as if preparing himself, "because I think you are a gift from the Gods." He said softly, "And you were sent here for a purpose and it wasn't to win me a kingdom. It was to help me save the North."
"Careful now, Your Grace. Some might think you've grown overly fond of me." She joked.
"Perhaps I have." He admitted.
"Oh," Hermione whispered in surprise. She didn't say anything to that, certainly, she didn't want to admit to him that she had grown quite fond of him too. She couldn't. He was a King – her King yes – and she was as Daenerys had said, no one.
She looked back down at the hands, and when she looked back at him, she knew her eyes mirrored his. The same fear, the same worry, the same determination to fight. They would fight with everything they had; because the long night was coming. And as Jon had told her, the Dead come with it.
AN: Thank you all for the love! I am truly grateful at the wonderful reception this story has received.
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