A/N

Helllooooo

Yep, it's been a while. I didn't have time to write anything. So, yeah. That's it for now... enjoy~~~

Everything hurt. Every, fucking thing.

This is the first thing I feel when I wake up after who-the-fuck-knows how long. Sharp pain in my back. Hot pain all through my ankle. Pain, pain, pain. It was painful to breath, and I felt like my eyes are glued.

I opened my eyes slowly and let the light enter. At first it was a blur-I saw the orange light of the fire dance to my right and some silhouettes. The room became clearer, and but I didn't really look around.

It was quiet except for the crackling noise of the fire and the soft breaths of an animal... Marylin? No, no. I don't have a fireplace in my… oh, damn it. How did I even think I'm home? I've been in Westeros for… five? Maybe six months? Maybe more?

I felt a chill in the back of my neck, reminding me the attack of the wights, the deaths of my friends, of… even Cersei. Cersei is dead. She died before giving birth… I couldn't keep my promise to Tyrion. I couldn't save that baby.

I looked up at the ceiling, sad, and angry, and in pain. So much fucking pain. And alone, again.

I lifted my head to get a better look at the room.

It's not the room they gave me the first time I was here. There are book shelves and a bigger fur rug and a bigger bath and-everything was bigger here. The whole room. I looked at the door-and saw the animal that was breathing. Ghost. He was sleeping, blocking the way to anyone who'd like to get in.

I finally recognized the room. It was Jon's, for some reason. Talking of the bastard, where is he?

I sat up in bed, and the pain that shot through my body-again-made me gasp. Ghost woke up and stood quickly on his feet.

"Hey, buddy." I said and slowly turned in his direction. I was wearing some kind of a gown. I guess it's the Winterfell hospital gown, but in better taste than the ones I know from home. I struggled and cursed as I put my legs on the fur carpet. It was hard to breath, so fucking harder than I'm used to, yet I took a huge breath and stood up.

That was a mistake. My legs didn't agree with me, since they didn't work properly and collapsed under my weight. I cried in pain and Ghost rushed over me and licked my face. I guess I was in that bed for a while if that's how my legs are responding.

"It's not helping, Dog." I said, breathing heavily. He pushed me with his nose, trying to get me to stand up. "I think I'll just stay on the-"

The door opened loudly before I could finish my sentence. Dripping water with pants and an open long sleeved shirt, right after a shower, I believe, came in the King in the North, muscles and beautiful scars exposed to everyone to appreciate. "Andie!"

"Stay there!" I yelled at him and he stopped in confusion.

"What happened?" He asked, worried.

"I just need that picture to stay in my mind." I said with a sigh, then looked down at the floor, dizzy. In my fragile state, I gotta enjoy anything the universe will give me, right?

Jon scoffed and walked over as he tied his shirt together. "I'm glad you woke up, but you don't look well."

"Because I'm not well." I coughed. "My legs are not working like I want them to." I wiggled my toes. "How long was I out?"

Jon lifted me like a princess, warm from the bath he probably took. It was nice, except for the part where everything still hurt. He tried to be gentle as he put me back in the big bed. "Six weeks."

I just stares at him for a second or two. Then I felt my breath becoming rapid and shallow. "How-what? I was… I was…"

"You needed time to heal. Our measters did well, the best they could. You were out on the milk of the poppy, so you wouldn't feel the majority of the pain." He looked at my pained expression and put a hand over my forehead as if to check my temperature. "I think you still need some." I shifted in my bed, pouting.

"No, I don't need more opioids. I don't want to be out anymore." I tried to sit up again. Jon helped me by supporting my back. "Where is everyone? The wights? The Walkers?"

Jon sighed. "We had more battles. It seems they are surrounding Winterfell, but not attacking yet. They only fight back when we attack them. For now… We are almost out of flamethrowers, but they helped more than we could imagine."

My eyes watered as I remembered the Hound turning into a wight for a second before I killed him, giving him a true rest. "They all fought with courage. So did you, Andie." Jon said as if he knew what was going on in my mind.

"I'm so angry," I said, choking my tears back. "They didn't deserve to die. Not like this."

"No one does," Jon said softly. His hand didn't leave my back even though I was sitting now on my own. "Don't blame yourself."

"I-it was my fault. I was the reason we stopped… Cersei. She lied to me, she said she's going into labor. I was sure… I thought…" the tears came up now, "I wanted to save that baby. I promised Tyrion, I even promised that bitch I wouldn't let anything happen to the kid…"

"But the child died before it was even born, Andie. It's better this way." Jon tried to comfort me, but I didn't care. The tears escaped my eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Jon. I promised, can't you see?" I was choking on tears now, and it hurt me so much to cry. I could barely breath. My view turned blurry.

I felt Jon's warm and strong hands circle me firmly and I pressed my face into his chest, grabbing his shirt in my fists, and just let it out. I was crying my heart out, then sobbing quietly, angry and sad and ashamed and scared and frustrated and everything at once. It's just so unfair. The physical pain wasn't important. I survived, somehow. So many people hasn't. How many days until I die too? I'll never find a way back home. This place… it's not my home. It's crazier than I thought. It's starting to be too much.

My fists became weaker, and I wasn't crying anymore. I didn't have any tears left. I took slow, deep and painful breaths through Jon's now wet shirt. I was tired. Exhausted. I listened to his heart and his breath and closed my eyes, concentrating on the warmth. I didn't feel completely safe in his arms-I never feel completely safe. But I felt safer.

"Andie," he said quietly. "What was your given name, when you were a child?"

"Hmm?"

"The third question I had. I wanted to know what was your name before you were took away by cartel."

"Oh." I mumbled and broke out of his arms, wiping my eyes with my hands. I took another deep breath. I guess it's a nice distraction to talk about it. "Artemis."

"Artemis?" Jon looked to his side in wonder. "That's an interesting name."

I shrugged and sniffed at the same time, still recovering from the long minutes of crying. "Yeah, it is. It's the name of the greek goddess of hunt, wildlife and the moon. She was a good archer, too."

Jon gave me a weak smile, a bit amused. "You are a good shooter, and not a bad archer either." Then he sighed and looked at the ceiling, then back to me. "I'm not sure about the hunting part."

"Yeah, it's pretty ironic I came out to be a vegan."

"Ironic?"

I tried to think about examples for irony, "Hmm… well, it's like a pilot who has a fear of heights, or a teacher that fails the test. Or when the fire station is burning down." He didn't seem to fully understand it. I found myself giving him a smile after a long while, "Or when a poor bastard from the north who's being treated unfairly by royalty and novelty is found out to be the rightful heir to the throne."

Jon smiled back. Then he looked a bit more serious. "Alright, I'll go get the maester. You still need treatment, and he needs to know you are awake now."

I pressed my lips and remembered the pain again. Our little light hearted conversation distracted me from reality. I nodded and turned my head to look at the window. It wasn't sunny, but it looked like it's the afternoon, kinda.

The measter applied some ointments to my wounds, and it stung like hell. Jon didn't look when I didn't have my clothes on, and looked pretty embarrassed in his little corner of shame. He only jumped and had a quick glance when I cried in pain, but then turned again, red faced. I found it funny. Most of my upper body had bandages over it anyways. Those middle-ages people with their weird sense of humility.

"Your Grace, the young lady-president seem to have a strong spirit and a strong body," The measter said to Jon as he collected his little bottles and jars. "I believe there will be a full recovery in four weeks. Until then, I recommend sleep, rest, warm baths and good meals."

"When can I go out and meet people?" I asked, still in pain from that damn ointment.

The measter pressed his lips. "Maybe in a week or so. I fear the cold will not do good to your health. You are too wounded right now."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I really wanted to go outside, but I'm not going to fight with a wise old man. I just waited for him to leave while watching that disgusting syrup he wanted me to have once a day before breakfast, laying on the table.

Jon now wore his full indoors grabs-the leather armor, the boots, the sword. I guess you have to be ready for a fight all of the time here. It looked like he was getting ready for something, maybe a war meeting.

"You should've taken the milk of the poppy," he said and paced a bit in the room, "it's going to be rather boring in here the next week. But there is a visitor that wanted to see you when you wake up."

"Oh, I'll be fine. There are tons of books here, maybe Sam can recommend some." I sighed and tried to get out of bed again. "I'll do some exercise. I have to stay in shape, I have to come back and help." I managed to lift myself, but stumbled again. This time, fortunately, I had Jon to catch me by my arms.

"It's going to take some time for your legs to wake. You were laying in bed this whole time. This is why…" He looked down. His hands slid down from my elbows to my hands. "I'm not going to send you out to the field again."

I just looked down at our hands, furious. "We went over this before, Jon Snow. I'll just go to Daenerys, she'll be glad to send me to the fire line." Thinking about her reminded me I was angry with her so, so much. She was going to kill the baby. Tyrion couldn't put it clearer than that. I don't think I want to be loyal to her anymore, but I'm not going to hurt her, too. Just yell at her, probably. And lose my head for it, possibly.

"No, it's not it. I think I have a better thing for you to do."

"Bake bread?"

Jon looked up and caught my eyes with a short glance and a smile. "No, you won't be baking bread." He let go of my hands. I forgot we held them for so long. I'm so dumb, sometimes. Why am I letting him do this to me?

I sat back on my bed and stretched my legs. This much, they could do. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Keep an eye on my child," Jon said and sounded dead serious. "You're one of the few people I trust enough to do so." He walked to the door.

I just stared at him with my mouth half open in shock. His child? His baby… Daenerys' baby. She's still pregnant, though, so I believe…

"You want me to be the Queen's bodyguard? Doesn't she have enough bodyguards?" I asked.

"I want you to protect the child. Daenerys has as many guards as she needs." He put his hand on the handle. "But you need to get better. So get as much rest as you can, and drink that fucking medicine." Then he opened the door and got out, leaving me alone in my room with my thoughts.

Exercising while being wounded is hard. It's painful as fuck, but I did my best. The first day I just moved my legs as much as I could, then I started stretching them. When Arya told me Jon went to another battle, my training pace grew faster. I have to go out and help. I hate being useless.

In the next few days I walked around my room restless. I even managed to jump and squat, which caused more pain and one of my wounds to open and bleed, but I just had to do it. Reading wouldn't help. The need to get better was the thing that kept me going.

After a few stretches on the fourth day since I woke up, I heard a knock on the door. Jon's back! My mind shouted with relief. "Come in." I said, and the door opened.

I was disappointed. It wasn't Jon… it was Daenerys. With a huge, huge, baby bump. Her Dothraki guards wanted to come in with her, but she let them go with a wave of her hand. The door closed behind her and she looked at me, so fucking queenly as usual. "I see you are doing well." She said with relief in her voice. "I came in as fast as I could. I had so much to do, and Drogon wouldn't let me go out and-"

"You lied to me." I said with more bitterness and coldness than I intended. Daenerys looked taken aback. I just had to say it. I was so, very upset about being manipulated.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said you wouldn't hurt a child, that they're innocent. But Tyrion said you'd kill Cersei's baby."

Daenerys sighed and her hands moved to her belly instinctively. She looked around the room. "Cersei and her unborn child are dead, aren't they?"

"It's not about that," I said and rose from my bed, "It's about your intentions, and the fact you lied to me."

Daenerys sighed again and walked around my bed and stood next to the window, looking outside. "The Lannister baby is a threat to mine, believe it or not. I know, they're innocent. You know which baby was innocent as well?" She turned to look at me, "Me. I was an innocent baby. Yet I was a threat to the Usurper. Only a few people prayed for my house to go back and rule, and my brother and I were their hope. The Usurper did anything he could to eliminate the threat. The Lannister men viciously murdered my niece and nephew. I wasn't even born. But when word arrived to Robert Baratheon's ears of my brother and mine's escape, the assassins weren't late to come. To try to wipe out any Targaryen, until the last of us. They even tried to poison me when I was first pregnant."

Daenerys' hands didn't leave her belly while she was speaking, "Don't you think there will be people, traitors, praying for the Lannisters return to the throne? My throne? My child's throne? I wouldn't let it happen. I wouldn't have let Cersei's child live in fear of murder as well. Death at the start of it would've solved it quickly. Even growing in our own ranks, the child might become an angry, resentful young Usurper. Just like that boy, Greyjoy betrayed the Starks." she walked back and looked at the library. I was angry by her story. Nothing about it was right, or merciful, or just. Not what she went through, and not her conclusion. I wanted to remind myself that I live now in a world with different rules, but then again, why not changing them?

"It's not right." I said, and pointed at her, "You of all people. You should be the one to understand… how can you-" When she turned to face me, I stopped. Not because of her sharp violet eyes, or even the fact she had a tear rolling down her cheek, but because of that big bump. 'Keep an eye on my child' Jon told me. I can't be in bad relationship with Daenerys. I have to protect the baby, like Jon asked me. "They're dead." I lowered my voice. "This whole discussion is irrelevant." I tried to straighten my posture, and again, everything ached.

Daenerys nodded in my direction. "I know you are upset with me, Andie Silver. But I am glad to have you on my side. Our side." The queen walked towards my door. "I trust you." She said and opened a crack, then looked back. "I hope to gain your trust back. And I hope you will get better soon."

Then she got out of my room and closed the door behind her.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. Daenerys is a good person, mostly. A bit too in love with the throne, I guess. Well, it's what she sacrificed so much for. She's unforgiving, but she didn't get upset with me for what I said. She even trusted me enough to stay alone with me in the same room, when the door is closed and no one can see what's going on inside.

I was just too confused.

I could finally get out of my damn room.

The castle was quieter than usual. Most guards disappeared-probably moved to the efforts at the battle. I don't think there's a big chance of someone betraying the queen or the king or a lord or a lady. We're all on the same side. There's nothing to earn.

Well, there's nothing to lose as well.

My guns were sitting on my (well, Jon's) desk. I grabbed one of them just in case. Some maids and servants were walking about the castle, and I even met Tormund on my way to the great hall. If he's here, does it mean Jon's here too? The last time I heard from him. he was about to go out to another battle.

I felt pretty bad to ask Tormund where Jon was first thing as I met him, so I just gave him a hug as we entered the hall to eat.

The food wasn't as rich as before. It was still satisfying, but I could notice the lack of the piles of meat and cheese and wine that was spilling all over the place from time to time. People had their servings-fighters had more than advisors, maids had less fatty foods than the hunters that had to go and hunt in the cold.

Tormund was enjoying his half-chicken and one goblet of wine as we caught up on everything. He said Brienne is well and he visited her many times. She didn't seem to like that too much, though, but appreciated the little flower he found and gave her. Thinking about Tormund Giantsbane handing a tiny, delicate flower to Brienne of Tarth warmed my heart.

"And then the fuckers tried to get to my back, because I was burning everything at my front. No worries, I only have a few bites. Mr pretty face was at my side with his Valyrian steel sword to slay the cunts."

He saw my little jump at the mentioning of Jon and drank some wine before saying, "He's fine. He's back."

"Good." I said and slurped the end of my potato soup. "This is yummy." I looked around the hall-there were many people eating. laughing. It seems they bonded over fighting at the same side. Lannister soldiers sat with northmen who sad with Dothrakis. Women who looked comfortable in their armor sat with them as equals, without too many lady manners. They all had battle scars, and I imagined they were telling their battle stories. Daenerys and Jon should see this. It will make them proud.

Then I saw someone sit alone at the end of the bench. His plate and goblet were full, but he didn't show any interest in the food. I recognized his short blond hair from the other side of the room, and the stiff golden hand laying in his lap. Jaime Lannister.

"I think someone is in need of some cheering." I said and took a sip from my goblet. I stood up and took my plate and goblet in my hands.

Tormund was winking at me suggestively, "Oh, I see. Cheering, ain't it?"

I rolled my eyes at him. Kicking him was very tempting, but all I said was, "You'll never have a chance with Brienne if you keep you mind in the gutter."

Tormund looked completely offended. He looked at me with big eyes and asked, "The gutter? Where is it? My head is right on my shoulders, what do you mean ya little fuck…" But I wasn't listening. I turned and walked over to Jaime. On my way a maid took away my plate.

I sat in front of the brooding blond. "Brooding suits you almost like it suits Jon Snow."

Jaime looked awful. He didn't lift his eyes off the table. "I'm trying my best." He said, without that cocky arrogance he usually uses to cover his insecurities and doubt.

I tried to catch his gaze, but it looked like he was in a different place. Glazed eyes and empty stares. "Hey," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Now Jaime lifted his eyes so he can scoff and say with his cocky attitude, "No you're not. You're probably as glad as the rest of Westeros. My sister's death almost made me raise a glass and celebrate."

I shifted a little on the bench. "It's not just your sister," I said with a meaningful look. "And if you want to grief for her as well, who cares? You loved her, didn't you? It doesn't matter she was a bitch."

Jaime was quiet for a little bit, then drank some of his ale. He swallowed and wiped his lips with the back of his good hand, "More than a bitch." There was a paused, then he lifter his goblet. I blinked in confusion as his drank more, then gulped the whole thing.

"You should eat before you get drunk." I said quietly. "You really do look like shit, though."

"Every hope I had for a child of mine… a living child of mine, is dead. But they'd kill them anyway, right? Even if you managed to do your job right and get them here safely." There's that arrogant tone coming back to his voice. Too much poison in his voice, actually, and I didn't like it.

I pushed his plate towards him. "Eat." I said. "It's ok to be angry and hurt, but eat before you make fun of yourself."

"'Ok'?" The blond asked.

"Fine." I said. "It's fine to be hurt." Jaime scoffed and shifted in his sit.

He threw a piece of rolled paper over the table. I picked it up. The broken seal had the Targaryen symbol on it.

I rolled the paper open and read-

'Dear brother, the time has come, hasn't it? Finally you are completely free of Cersei. Sadly, for my best understanding, the child did not survive. At least it wasn't born. Worry not, brother mine. The bigger picture is brighter, although it might just be the white glow of the White Walker. I can't tell, from here. The city still smells like shit. You are very missed. Good fortune in the wars to come.

Drink another goblet for me, would you? For a life without Queen Bitch!'

"Well, it seems Tyrion is happy."

"I don't know if he is," Jaime said. "He probably feels like he missed the chance to kill her himself."

I blinked at him, and sighed. Those fucked up families of Westeros, am I right? But the guy was a bit too much broken. It looks like he's having too many mixed feelings. "Hey. You're a commander. You can't let it take you from your soldiers. They're looking up to you."

Jaime didn't really listen to me. He just looked annoyed when he said, "What are you doing here anyways? Are you making sure I'm still loyal to your queen and king?"

I blinked, a little surprised from the sharpness in his voice. He's not drunk yet, is he? It's been a week. I didn't think he'll still be so… miserable.

"Hey, I'm not here to do that! I'm just-"

"Well tell them I'm here until the Dead will win the war."

I gritted my teeth and stood up. Those are drunk man's words, but they upset me nonetheless. "Jaime Lannister, you listen to me right now." I made sure I wasn't too loud so I won't embarrass him in front of his soldiers, "You go and have a cold shower to wake you up. Man up and take care of yourself. Life is shit. People we love die. But you can't let the darkness consume you. You gotta suck it in and let it out after this whole mess is over," And then, to clarify everything, I added, "Capish?"

He just looked up and blinked, probably doesn't know what 'capish' means. I decided it was a good time to get out of there.

There's too much bitterness here. I feel like shit, everyone feels like shit. We need some music or something. Heck, if I could play 'Uptown Funk' I wish it could bring a smile to everyone's faces.

It was cold in the evening, like usually, so I sat in front of the fireplace with one of Jon's black sapes on. It seemed to do the trick.

I wasn't hungry enough for dinner. I didn't have much appetite. I missed home, and that's all I could think about.

The never ending noises of cars and the subway and people. The street lights at night. The smell of coffee and toast in the morning. The sky above the skyscrapers. The trees that had roots so strong they lifted the sidewalk. The immigrants. The disgusting smell of pee, and right after that the sweet smell of donuts. Oh, man. How I miss donuts…

"Dinner?" I heard a very familiar voice. I looked at the door and smiled at Jon that held a bowl of soup in his hand. "I brought some bread, too."

"Aren't you supposed to eat with your people?" I asked, even though I was happy to see him. He was the type of person that eats with his peers and commanders at least. If he could he's shove all of the smallfolk in there too.

"I had some already." He shrugged and place the steaming bowl in my hands.

"What's the soup of the day?" I asked.

"Potato." "Potato." We said at the same time. I didn't really have to ask, I knew it's gonna be the answer.

Jon sat on the chair at the side of my chair. I was eating in silence for a while, and he ripped the bread, handing me a half.

"You gotta eat more than half a bread, Jon Snow." I said as I stuffed my mouth with food. The presence of someone close to me gave me my appetite back. Also, the thought of donuts.

Jon chuckled. "It's been a long time since someone called me with my bastard name. I'm King Jon, or Your Grace, or the King in the North-"

"Jon Snow suits you better than all of that crap." I said and took a big bite of bread dipped in soup again, "And so does eating. You're the king, you're supposed to eat more than that. You're also fighting, don't you forget."

Jon sighed and straightened himself in his chair. "I know, it's just… well, tomorrow we are going to have a feast."

"A feast?"

"Aye. This is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Why are you going to have a feast?" I took another bite of my food. It was too good.

"We are going to have a feast because…" He took a big breath, "Well, that's what they do in royal weddings, do they?"

I swallowed and stared at him for a while. It felt like all of the noise in the world was silenced, and here was him and I, and the fire, and that's it. I forgot about the soup completely.

I should've expected that, shouldn't I? I was pretty clear. It was the right thing to do, by that world's rule. They love each other-there's a baby on the way-there's a deal that needs to be sealed. If something is going to happen to one of them, no one will have a doubt who's the next ruler will be. A big, royal wedding, will be good for the moral and the mood here in Winterfell. It's gonna be perfect, right?

Right.

"Andie?"

I blinked and a smile slowly crept on my face. "That's, um…. That's great. Oh, man. A royal wedding. Are the dragons gonna be the ring carriers?"

"Ring carriers?"

"Who's gonna be the best-man? I'm sure Sam will do an amazing job. And Sansa as a bridesmaid with Missandei-phew, it's gonna be the wedding of the century. Well. Tyrion's not here, so Davos will be the perfect guy to hand the bride over."

"Best-man? Bridesmaid?" Jon blinked at me. "What are you talking about, Andie?"

I looked down into my soup. It didn't look as good as it did before. "Nothing, nothing. I was just… never mind." I looked up to him and bit the inside of my cheek. I care about Jon, and I'll be there for him with every decision he'll be making. "So, tomorrow then?"

"Aye," Jon looked into the fire. "We thought to do it as fast as we could. The feast is going to be humble, but comparing to what we've had in the last two months… And the musicians will have something to do as well. There are too many fools to choose from."

"Ya mean the whole castle?" I asked. Well, wedding problems are wedding problems, doesn't matter if you're a fool or a king I guess. "Just have a blast and smile more than you usually do and people will take it as a good sign." It managed to get another chuckle out of the nervous king.

"After the feast we'll have a true ceremony in front of the old gods," Jon said. "It's important to my people. But it's going to be small. Only close members of the family… and generals… and you."

"Yeah, sure. I'll come." I went back to me soup.

"It's outside, in front of the weirdwood tree."

I stopped eating. "Outside."

"Aye-"

"At night?"

"Andie, it's gonna be short-"

"Are you out of your mind? I don't even care about the fucking Walkers. It's gonna be freezing!"

Jon didn't say anything until he saw I calmed down and went back to eating. He just leaned back in his chair and watched the fire. I didn't like the idea of standing outside at night, freezing to my bone, watching a wedding-one of the most boring events in the world in my opinion-at the risk of turning into an icicle. But, oh well, it's good to have someone with a gun out there. Also, Jon wants me to be there, so I'll be there for him.

Then he said out of the blue, "I wanted you to sing something as well."

I almost spit my soup out through my nose. "Sing? What do you want me to sing?" I asked, confused.

Jon shrugged. "I liked what you sang back there."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Bob Dylan didn't write 'Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall' for weddings, Jonny boy."

"Jonny boy?" Jon blinked at me, then focused again on being an annoying puppy. "Any song you will do… I told Daenerys about the songs I heard in New York, and she loves music and poetry…"

"Is that your wedding gift?"

"A song from foreign lands is a great wedding gift, isn't it?" Jon looked less confident.

I was thinking for a moment, "It's funny that you call the States a 'foreign land', but I guess it is for some people." I shrugged. "And since YouTube is not a thing here yet, I believe it's an awesome gift." I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Jon wasn't very used to that gesture so he just looked at my thumb, super confused. Then he relaxed, and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm just trying to think… well, I'm not going to have a guitar, am I?" Jon shook his head. "Acapela it is, then."

Why the fuck am I here? Really, why am I sitting here, on the high table with all of those important people, looking at the crowd feasting and drinking and being so damn happy?

I mean, yeah. I'm kinda happy too. Well, I am. Jon looked stressed out and he didn't touch his wine. Daenerys didn't touch her wine since I warned her it's a dumb idea to drink alcohol while pregnant, but she did eat. Oh, she ate, like, a whole moose. And some potatoes, too.

People started dancing, and it looked much more fun than sitting and watching. The music was good-too bad I couldn't play any of those old fashioned instruments. I felt my foot tapping along.

The ceremony was nice. It was in both the 'common tongue' and Dothraki and Valyrian, because we're a multicultural, multi linguistic community here. They had some vows, and that priest guy tied their hand together, and a blanket was involved. The Dothraki came one by one and offered small gifts for their queen, and now king. Or should I say, their khaleesi and khal?

It was fun to see the excited expressions in the crowd. I was smiling, too. The smells from the kitchen were delicious.

So was the food.

I also had two and a half goblets of wine.

After half an hour of watching people dance, I decided I should, too. So I got off my damn chair and walked down off the stage. At the corner of my eye I saw a glimpse of blond and turned with a smile. "Hey Jaime, waaaassssaaaap?"

The best ways to greet a Lannister are the kind of ways the leave them wordless for a second or two.

Jaime stared at me, then shook my dumbness away. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was drunk, and acted like a spoiled child."

"Instead of a spoiled thirty-something year-old?" I asked. He looked a bit offended by it. "Nah, I'm kidding. You were acting like a heart broken human. It doesn't mean you weren't a jerk, but still, I get you."

Jaime finally had a small smile on his face. Much nicer than the brooding face. We should keep 'brooding mode' for the King himself. "How much did you drink tonight, Lady Andie?"

"Don't you dare." I poked his armor-clad chest, "Now Let's go slay the dance floor, so outta my way." I was about to walk past him but he stopped me with his hand.

"You're going to slay what exactly?"

"I'm going to dance, pretty boy." I said, "Are you coming?"

"I don't dance." He scoffed. I just shrugged and walked to the little space where people danced, just enjoying my time, dancing with people of all kinds, thinking of home.

Again, why the fuck am I here? Freezing, my feet deep in the snow, a bit fuzzy from wine, under that creepy tree.

And then I looked at Arya to my right, and Sansa beyond her, and Bran and Sam and Missandei and Jorah and more in that small group, and at the end Jon and Daenerys, and they looked joyful. Something so rare here in Winterfell. They held each other's hands, like they can't believe it's happening. I looked up at the tree-it's leaves ruffled, like it was approving the wedding. The orange, warm firelight danced as the colder, white moonlight washed everything around us.

I found myself smiling at the magic. I'll blame the wine later.

I didn't listen to the words, I didn't care for weddings. I just looked at their expressions, and looked around at the forest. Somehow the night was quiet. I could hear the party from the castle and out of it still. The smallfolk were celebrating too.

Jon's eyes landed on me, and I noticed it was quiet. Maybe it was my que.

I looked at Daenerys, and for the first time since I met her she looked a little bit… just a little bit vulnerable. She was still holding Jon's hand, and I guess that's the thing-loving someone is, among other thing, letting yourself being vulnerable near them. Let them see your soft side, your doubts in yourself, in your plans.

I really did smile this time, because I knew for sure it was love there. My heart can't break if I know Jon is in good hands.

Also, whatever. That guy is brooding and can't figure out ATMs. Or the Internet.

So I sang the song I chose. It wasn't the most original choice-just not a love song. I found a song I thought both Daenerys and Jon will connect to the words because… well, it's a song that gives you hope, and those two are the people that bring hope to their nation.

I knew John Lennon's words were too naive and sweet for Westeros's reality, but I didn't care. I knew that's the right thing to sing.

"Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people living life in peace

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope some day you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people sharing all the world

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope some day you'll join us

And the world will be as one"

A/N

Yep, I know. Imagine by the great John Lennon is not the most original choice, but I thought it's something Daenerys will appreciate.

Geez, I hope she and Andie will get along.

Anyway, let me know what you think,

Bye for now

~A Girl Had Many Names~