My castle crumbled overnight,
I brought a knife to a gunfight,
they took the crown but it's alright.
All the liars are calling me one,
nobody's heard from me for months,
I'm doing better than I ever was.
'Cause
My baby's fit like a daydream,
walking with his head down,
I'm the one he's walking to.
So call it what you want,
yeah, call it what you want to.
My baby's fly like a jetstream,
high above the whole scene,
loves me like I'm brand new.
So call it what you want,
yeah, call it what you want to.
-Taylor Swift, "Call It What You Want"
Dany should've known the Baratheon's were going to show up and show out for their time with the royal couple. They were related to the Targaryens somehow, an off branch from way back on the tree, so a full itinerary was expected. Thankfully, there was no hunt scheduled. The Baratheon clan was famous for their extravagant week-long excursions. To be invited along while the royal family was in attendance was a high honor. Not wanting his court to be disappointed, Robert arranged for a day of hawking so their royal guests could rest.
All of Dany's hopes of sleeping in were squashed as her phone persistently buzzed. She flipped it over to see text notifications from Rhaegar, Elia, Sansa, even the twins. They all referenced screenshots of several different headlines and when Dany read them her stomach dropped.
The words 'massive sham', 'chilly marriage bed', and even 'espionage' shouted at her in all caps. No matter how the bloodthirsty tabloids worded it, their intent was clear, they'd figured it out. Her own search of the internet brought more results than she wanted and a quick skim of one of the articles boiled her blood.
She sat straight up in bed as she read the dreaded sentence. A source close to the princess claims that she left her Braavosi apartment suddenly after the fateful tabloid photo. It was radio silence until two days later when our source received a call. In the call, the princess admitted to being forced into an engagement though she had no wish for it. More sources within Winterfell Castle have detailed the icy relations between the supposed 'lovebirds'. One even revealed that the princess was seen speaking intimately with a man who was not her new husband. On the night of their wedding, no less.
Enraged, Dany threw back the duvet and marched into the common room. She wasn't surprised to find Jon already seated on the sofa, staring pensively out the picture windows. The tension in her shoulders dissolved and for a second she forgot what she was angry about, mind going blank as her breath caught. She couldn't remember the last time someone made her feel that way; with one look the rest of the world fell away and it was just them, no troubles or worries to be found. Her thumb brushed the place where her wedding ring usually sat. That man was hers.
He glanced at her, gauging her features, before turning his eyes back to the view beyond the glass.
"Have you seen them?"
"Worse. I read one."
Jon placed his arm along the back of the sofa in invitation. Dany tucked herself in the space beside him.
"What did it say?"
"Doesn't matter," she murmured, laying her head against his shoulder, "It's all bullshit."
They sat in silence, Jon's arm closing around her shoulders. His thumb brushed absently over her shoulder.
"What are we going to do?" she pondered.
"What do you mean? We know it's not a sham, who cares what they think."
"Everyone. Once those tabloids start sowing the seeds of doubt, it gets hard to convince people of the truth. And people will always doubt our marriage."
Their room had a view of the courtyard, with the gates beyond that. Cars lined the side of the little road leading from the castle to the city. And from those cars came photographers with varying lenses and cameras and microphones. If they weren't so invasive, Dany would've laughed.
Jon noticed her fixation, "Is there any way to get rid of them?"
Dany frowned, an idea forming. For years she'd been taught to avoid the cameras, not talk to reporters unless approved by the palace. The fear of a bad photo instilled in her until the mere sight of cameras gave her pause. But if they insisted on plaguing her and her new family, perhaps she should treat the problem as the solution.
The press wanted intrusive photos and hot gossip and they would do anything to get it. Her brother controlled the narrative through bribes and intimidation when he could do it through misdirection.
"We don't need to get rid of them," she grinned, "we can use them."
"This sounds like a bad idea,"
"But, dear, those are the best ones."
According to Royal Protocol, no PDA should be shown between royal couples. The Targaryen's made the code and they stuck to it with fierce loyalty. Dany was the first one to find the loophole; it applied only to official royal functions, not 'private' dinners that happened to be in a public place.
After the excitement of the morning, Dany made a few calls to the most popular tabloids. The Flea Bottom Tattler, The Dragon's Herald, even The King's Landing Sun expressed interest in hearing what the young, royal couple had to say in defense of their hasty relationship. However, they weren't willing to meet with the couple to see it for themselves, the very thing Dany needed to quell suspicion.
Finally, she resolved to the next effective method, which happened to be word of mouth. Low-ranking ladies in any court had an impressive network of people thirsty for gossip to spread; hair stylists, nail techs, secretaries, maids. Dany knew from experience they would take their tidbits and tell their friends who were shut out from the lofty world of the royals.
She tracked down the savviest of the Baratheon brothers for the best spot to be seen by the preening ladies. Renly knew just the spot, of course. Tango for Two, an up-and-coming nightlife that doubled as a pop-up. One never knew where it was going to be from night to night. Usually, RSVPs required twenty-four-hour notice but Renly knew the owner and figured he could get them the location. The most-talked-about couple in Westeros making an appearance would do wonders in free press.
So, Dany and Jon hit the charming town of Storm's End for a 'night out'. Their presence in the somewhat sleepier community drew crowds. Aside from the usual paparazzi and gossip writers, there were avid fans of the social elite and casual bystanders drawn in by curiosity.
Even with the obvious security detail they went unnoticed. It helped that Dany had her hair concealed under a scarf, a trick she employed when wanting to remain unbothered. Somehow, it always worked. Probably because her signature white-blonde had become a trend in recent years, used as a signifier of wealth because of its impossible maintenance. If people thought they recognized her on the street, it would be as some influencer.
Tango for Two was impressive, to say the least. Dany couldn't believe it changed location every day, it looked like it had always been in the same location. That particular evening it existed in the bare backroom between a laundromat and tattoo parlor, complete with lights and a full bar.
Dany tied her dark chiffon scarf around her neck as she and Jon looked around. The patrons fit seamlessly into the laid-back atmosphere, chatter creating a content murmur over the low music. Renly told her the proprietor of the trendy club would meet them there but he didn't mention anything else about the person behind it.
"Your Royal Highnesses," a voice said, a bit too loudly.
The owner approached from behind the bar and bowed. It was too shallow but Dany couldn't expect everyone to know the exact protocol for meeting high-ranking nobility.
"When Lord Renly told me you were looking for an exclusive place to hang for the night, I was more than happy to offer our services. Drinks are the house for tonight, my treat."
He started leading them around the perimeter, Dany didn't recognize most of the people there. Then again, she didn't know a lot of the minor lords of the Stormlands.
"You'll find that all our guests are well connected, deserving company for such important guests. Ah, may I introduce the chief patron of our establishment, Lady Rosanna of Mossgate."
The woman he referred to turned, gracious smile on her face, "Your Royal Highnesses, it's an honor to have you here."
Dany couldn't help a sly smile. She knew Lady Rosanna, a former paramour of Robert Baratheon and the reason for the nasty divorce between the Lord of Storm's End and Cersei Lannister. Controversial, yet well-connected, the necessary traits of a reliable gossip.
"The honor is ours," Dany complimented.
"We rarely get to spend a night out," Jon added, "This looks like the perfect place to do it."
Dany leaned against Jon, sizing up Lady Rosanna. There was a sparkle in her eyes that revealed what she was thinking and Dany hoped it was true. Confidentiality be damned, she thought, Run and tell everyone you know.
"I'm glad to have you. When the paps wouldn't leave me alone, I didn't want to be out and about."
"We're getting used to it," Jon stated, nudging into Dany.
Her smile grew in earnest, no prompting required. And the smile on his face was something Dany wanted more of.
"Enjoy yourselves," she stated, "And if anyone gives you any trouble, you let me know."
More people filled the makeshift location, whispering about the notable couple in their midst. The lights were lower, moodier as Jon and Dany found their way to the sidelines. They hovered impossibly close to each other, Jon's arm around her shoulders.
She reached to touch Jon's hand, a strange guilt forming as her fingers brushed his wedding band. Once again the thought struck her about their circumstances. They should be miserable, avoiding each other like the pox and only exchanging a few words here and there. But, against all odds, they found the shimmering possibility of happiness. If Dany never had to move from his side, she would be blessed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cool white flash of a phone camera. She was about to smile in satisfaction when Jon shifted. Her brows furrowed as she looked about the club. A sea of people who thought they were being subtle. Every phone seemed to be trained on them and she realized what was up.
"We should go," she stated.
He didn't say anything, only nodded as Dany signaled to their security it was time to leave.
"I'm sorry. I forgot you don't like cameras," she apologized into his shoulder as they headed to the back door.
"It's a lot to get used to."
She hummed in agreement though she still wasn't used to them herself, even with years of exposure.
"Your Royal Highnesses, what a surprise finding you here." a woman slid into their path, dressed too professionally for a backroom pop-up club.
"Uh, hello…" Jon stated, eyes flickering to Dany.
"Oh, sorry, I'm with The King's Landing Sun. We talked on the phone earlier," she addressed Dany directly.
"Right, it was nice meeting you but we're actually leaving," Dany deflected, taking Jon's hand in hers and a purposeful step toward the door.
"Since I have you here I was hoping you would answer a couple questions."
A pair of people brushed past them, forcing the unfortunate three to squish together for a moment. Dany glanced up at Jon, knowing he wanted to get the hell out of there. She did too.
"Sure," she sighed.
"Awesome. Was the marriage really arranged?"
"Well, it wasn't arranged as much as suggested," Dany explained, knowing it wasn't what really happened.
"Could you elaborate on that?"
Really, Dany thought, this is the most inappropriate place.
"As royals, we get a list of potential partners and it's up to us who to choose. We're very lucky we both liked each other." Jon wrapped his hand around Dany's waist, holding her closer.
"But what about the relations between the North? How did a-"
"We were interested in forging a new, more hospitable relationship with the North. All of the names on my list were… eligible northern lords. But I met Jon first and knew I didn't need to meet anyone else."
The reporter hummed as though she didn't believe it.
"If that's all, we'll be going," Dany said shortly, pushing past the increasingly rude woman.
"And what of the sources that claim you spoke rather intimately with a man on the night of your wedding?" She called after them.
The smug way she delivered her question raised Dany's temperature. "You mean the wedding crasher?"
The reminder of what happened that night burned through her dwindling patience.
Before she could berate the woman, Jon cut in, "You mean the same man who snuck into our wedding and cornered Dany because he couldn't believe she was capable of making her own decisions?"
"That is precisely who I mean, yes. He was your ex wasn't he? What did you do to make him act like that?"
"He was jealous and petty to begin with, and clearly couldn't handle the fact that things ended. And I hope you kept his number because you can call him up and tell him to shove his lies up-"
"Alright, I think we're done here," Jon interrupted, guiding Dany back from the reporter in hopes of avoiding another messy confrontation.
She fumed as they left the building behind them and she could sense Jon's agitation as well.
"Who does she think she is asking questions like that? Does no one have any sense of decorum?"
"Apparently not."
They rounded the corner of the building and Dany situated her dark scarf just in time. What could be considered a peaceful night erupted into an explosion of light and sound. Flashing bulbs and shouts, the two security officers jumped to action but they weren't enough. Out of all the noise, Dany could make out the word 'truth' which echoed around her hauntingly through the combative shouts of the guards.
Jon's grip on her hand tightened and she took a deep breath. Their car was across the road, the driver waiting, all they needed to do was cross the street. Doing so opened up a whole new array of trouble. The rabid men surrounded them on all sides, pushing and shoving and shouting. Their camera flashes blinding and Dany brought her arm up to shield her eyes.
One of the paparazzi got bold in a way men with death wishes do, grabbing her arm with a fierce hand.
"Are you fucking kidding me," Dany cried through gritted teeth as she tried to free herself.
She was ready to throw a punch or claw someone's face off, whichever happened to be more convenient. Another voice rose above the others, the words unrecognizable as a blur crossed her vision and she was pulled away. The force loosening the scarf on her head, soft chiffon falling away and toward the wet pavement. It rained, she noted in her brief sense of relief.
"This way, Your Royal Highness," one of the officer's voices coaxed.
Their hands guided her away but she managed a glance over her shoulder. The pap that grabbed her stumbled away, hand covering his face and Dany couldn't see Jon. More shouting, angry and accusatory. A sinking feeling in her gut told her everything she needed to know.
The backseat of the car was a different world; quiet, removed, stifling, only the sound of the engine and rain against the windows. Even their breathing was quiet and she hated it. Dany's hand shook as she pressed them against her knees. Their night wasn't supposed to end like this, it was supposed to be a triumphant success, a victory for the two of them. Now, they wouldn't look each other in the eye.
She fucked up again. The first two times were harmless, for the most part, but this time she got Jon involved and he lost it on that photographer. Now both their reputations hung in the balances.
The silence continued as they returned to their rooms through the cavernous halls of Storm's End Castle. Hunting trophies glared down from the walls, unblinking, playing audience to yet another hiccup in a fraught relationship. Every minuscule sound of the door was deafening.
Dany went to untie the scarf from around her neck but it was gone. Left in the street where the scuffle took place. She kicked off her heels instead, carefully lowering herself to the silk upholstered sofa. And there they were, sitting in the common room not speaking and eyeing each other warily. Someone opened the patio doors, the patter of the rain annoyingly consistent. She couldn't take it anymore.
"I know what you're thinking, so why don't you say it?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Something, anything!"
"You want me to tell you your plan was stupid," he pointed out, strangely calm.
"Yes!" she stood, needing to move to rid herself of the frenetic energy. "Say it was stupid and reckless and I've made a mess of things again."
"Dany, it didn't work out but you couldn't have known they would swarm us like that."
"Stop being so calm about it!"
"What?"
"Every time I fuck up, you just accept it! You should be angry but you won't even raise your voice."
"Do you want me to?"
"Gods, please, it would make me feel better. Just have it out with me so we can move on, instead of making me feel like- like I'm a burden or something."
She turned on her heel and headed for the open doors.
"Dany," he called, following her onto the patio, "Dany!"
She braced for the dreaded moment he took her up on the offer, as they all did, but it never came. Instead, he turned her, gripping her upper arms. His dark eyes held her gaze, so intense she couldn't decide whether to melt or turn to stone.
"I'm not going to yell at you."
Dany released her breath, brows furrowing. He moved his hands from her arms to cradle her face.
"I'm not going to yell at you," he repeated, softer than before.
For the second time that night, Dany found things moving differently than expected. All her previous partners showed their true colors by that point. They never handled the pressure well, letting it build up until they burst, in the form of a raised voice or breaking a delicate item. And once again Jon proved her wrong.
They embraced, Dany pressing her face to Jon's chest, comfortably lost in his breathing. After a long moment, she murmured, "You punched that photographer."
"I know."
"It scared me."
"I'm sorry. When he grabbed you, I didn't think, I just acted."
"That's alright. It's what I would've done."
They were silent again, breathing in each other and the fresh scent of the storm.
"Maybe I should've let you have a go at that nosy reporter."
"Whatever," she muttered, "I'm sorry too. For all that. I-I'm just so used to- well."
"I understand but Dany, you don't have to worry about that anymore and if everything works out we'll never have to deal with people like that again."
The lie brought them a false sense of comfort. For there would always be nosy reporters and desperate photographers, lurking around corners and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. But at least Dany knew they couldn't break their relationship.
"Are you still worried about what they'll say?" he pondered.
She shook her head, "Let them say what they want. I've got what I need, as long as we know what we are."