When the madness crept in. It crept in slow. So slow you barely noticed it. But soon she was paranoid. Saw enemies lurking in every corner. It all made sense. Everyone saw her as a prophet or a savior or a hero or a womb for heroes or a queen or a monster or a demon. Jon was the only one who saw her as Dany. A smart, kind, beautiful woman who tried her best, every day to make her people happy. To be a just and good queen.
Eventually, though Fire and Blood were more than just the words on her sigil. They were her answer to most every problem.
"Your Grace, this must stop."
"Your Grace, I urge mercy."
"Your Grace, you have no evidence."
Jon got tired of saying those words and got tired of having them ignore. Tired of watching the woman he loved burn people to cinders in the Red Keep.
When the time came. Jon did his duty. That was always his curse. He had too much Ned Stark in him after all.
When he walked through those doors for the last time. Dany was sitting on the Iron Throne, staring into the distance. Eyes unfocused. She wasn't with him. Not anymore. She hadn't been for a long time. She was somewhere else. Somewhere she could escape the madness. The voices whispering in her ear. The schemes and plots and treason and war and death.
"Your Grace." Jon said. His words catching in his throat.
"I-It's time then." She said. Her fingers drumming on the Iron Throne.
"Your Grace. I came here to do my duty." Jon said.
"Please. Not your grace. Not now." She said. Her eyes closed and she clenched her hands around the armrest so tight they bled.
"You are still my queen. From now until the day I die." Jon said. "I swore a vow."
"Yes, you did. And you also swore a vow to shield the realms of men. So please. Shield them." Dany said. Jon had never wanted to break his oath more. Not when Stannis offered him Winterfell. Not when the Boltons took it. Not when Robb went off to war. Never before had the choosing been so hard. He'd damn himself and his honor either way. He'd lose her either way.
"I don't want to do this." Jon said.
"I don't want you to either." Dany said. "But you must."
So many vows. They make you swear and swear. Jon grabbed Dany by the hair and tossed her to the ground. She was the one on her knees now. Like so many she had burned.
She didn't look like a queen anymore. Nor even the beautiful, intelligent, fierce woman he had fell in love with. She looked like a little girl, lost. So far from home.
"Do it quickly." Dany said. Her voice was small. It had never been so small before. So afraid and yet resigned.
He took out his knife before he even realized it. But he couldn't avert his gaze. Couldn't step forward. Couldn't do what needed to be done.
"I never wanted it, you know." Dany said.
"Never wanted...?" Jon repeated dumbly. She inclined her head to the Iron Throne. That jagged ugly mass of swords she had sat on for near two years now. That chair she had sat in and commanded the deaths of so many.
"You fought hard for it." Jon said.
"Because I confused it for happiness. Safety. Home." She said. Again she was staring off somewhere far past him. Wherever she was, Jon thought, he wished he was there with her.
"It was your home." Jon said.
"No. It wasn't." Dany said.
"...You mean?" Jon squinted, recalling something they had talked about what seemed like ages ago. Before things between them had become cold and strange.
"The house with the red door. That's all I wanted. A house with a red door and grass to run barefoot through, and a lemon tree. Someplace warm and free." Dany said.
"I understand. That's all I've ever wanted too. Didn't know it. Didn't realize until it was taken from me." Jon said, he stepped forward and he offered Dany a hand. She looked up and her eyes were so wide and full of tears. She grabbed hold and stood up.
"If things were different. We could have had that together. We could have made a house with a red door together." Dany said.
"We still could. Dorne has lemon trees. I'll steal you away. Make you my bride. We could find happiness somewhere no one would ever find us. We could still be happy. I know it." Jon said. Dany hugged him fiercely, full of need. She kissed him against his cheek.
"You know nothing Jon Snow." Dany said.
The dagger was in her heart before Jon even knew it.
She collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Jon stood and stared, gawking at what he had done. His eyes burning, his chest tightening.