Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
A/N: So, I noticed in some reviews that people are not happy with Alysanne for stopping the practice of Incest between Daenerys and Jon. First of all, it has been mentioned throughout the story Alysanne is against incest since the beginning. She was forced into an incestuous marriage and is aware of the complications. Alysanne has her mothers' condition of bruising easily and longer recovery (After the Daznak pit). Also, she knows that incest in the Targaryen Family holds a possibility of madness and infertility or pregnancy complications. Queen Rhaella had nine miscarriages. Nine miscarriages. She is a matter of fact, is trying to prevent history from repeating itself. I'm not putting 21st-century ideology in this story. Alysanne did mention if Jon had been their cousin, she would have allowed it. She is against brother/sister, niece/uncle, aunt/nephew and parent/child relationships.
Another thing, one review mention Alysanne is allowing Dany to marry anyone and now is preventing it. NO. I wrote that Alysanne says Dany can be with anyone sexually. Still, if Dany were to marry, Alysanne must approve the match or not. She was not strict when Dany and Daario were in a relationship.
Language
Common Tongue
Valyrian/thought
Chapter 88: Tears of Sorrow and Feasts of Joy
Alysanne's POV
Three days have passed since the Long Night ended. All the remaining survivors gathered at the battlefield where funeral pyres with all the fallen were laid to rest. Three long days of dismantling the fortifications and gathering lumber from the Wolfswood. Barely three days of collecting the names of the fallen soldiers and warriors. Men and women who fought for the next light. As time went on, you could see in the many pyres contained more Dothraki and Unsullied. A report hasn't been made yet of the total, but it is clear who lost the most. Daenerys and I lost the most. As the numerous pyres were filled with Dothraki bloodriders and Unsullied soldiers.
I walked over to the pyre where men from my company were being put as Ser Barristan laid there in peaceful eternal slumber. Ser Barristan the Bold, a knight who has served four Kings and one Queen. King Aegon V, King Jaeherys II, King Aerys II, King Robert, and lastly, Queen Alysanne. Never has he ever considered serving King Joffrey due to the dishonor the boy gave the most loyal of knights. Barristan's words echoing in my head, stating:
"I have served a Great King, a good king, a mad king, and a terrible King."
I know I made him proud since he told me in death. However, standing here watching over his body, I could not stop the tears from falling. A loyal knight, friend, mentor, and father. He became the father I truly needed. He was there for all of us. For Daenerys. For Grey Worm. And for me. He lay there with a sword in hand, waiting to protect his family, clad in his armor. The cuts are shown on his face. A man of age would seek retirement. Put down his sword and own lands. But he kept to his vows of the royal guard for House Targaryen.
I leaned over, pressing a kiss on Ser Barristan's forehead.
"I'll always be there," Ser Barristan whispered.
When I pulled back, Daenerys came over to kiss Ser Barristan farewell. I pray she understands that his death was not her fault. We are forever indebted to Ser Barristan the Bold and to the fallen. Aggo, a trusted bloodrider who has been with us since joining the Khalasar, fell victim to the war. He was once my khas, serving us, protecting us. He died…being torn apart. And he was not the last…
Everyone was morning, giving their final farewells. Lady Sansa mourned for the loss of Theon Greyjoy. A man who struggled to figure out which house he belonged too. He was of two cultures, though lost, and made many mistakes, yet he has redeemed himself. Samwell and Dickon Tarly mourned for their father, Lord Randyll Tarly. He died, protecting his sons.
Once everyone was done in saying their goodbyes, we returned to the gathering. Everywhere standing by their Kingdoms. Separate, yet equal. As House Targaryen and House Stark stood next to one another. Jorah stood beside me, with Missandei and Grey Worm behind us, it gave him cover to wrap his arm around my waist providing support. Only five people know I was still healing, my body protesting to lie down and rest. But I had to be here.
Amongst the crowd were the Starks, all three children with their cousin. Next to them, Lord Royce, Ser Brienne, and…Ser Jaime. Lady Lyanna was there with her men, though she sat in a wheelchair. Along with the Wildlings, Northmen, and Knights of the Vale. On my side was my council, Ser Garlan with the Reachmen, Ser Gareth with the Stormlanders, Dothraki, and Unsullied. We all stood there, staring at the many pyres holding the fallen warriors who fought for humanity. By each pyre was a solider representing the culture. There were many Unsullied and Dothraki out there.
Jon stepped forward, addressing everyone, "We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers and mothers. To our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences . . . to fight together . . . and die together, so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory . . . for those who come after us . . . and those who come after them . . . for as long as men draw breath. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men. And we shall never see their like again."
All of us were the Night's Watch that faithful night.
Now the Night's Watch is no more.
Everyone in leadership was handed torches. Daenerys and I accepted it, as did Jon, Sansa, Arya, Tormund, Lord Royce, Ser Gareth, Ser Garlan, and Lady Lyanna. We walked forth to the closest pyre of the officers and men/women who fought with a purpose. I stepped towards the Pyre where Ser Barristan was with my Unsullied officer. He was of the Seven, a Stormlander, and yet he served House Targaryen. He laid in his armor with the sword he had since Astapor, surrounded by the Unsullied officers he trained. I set the torch on the wood and watch the fire set ablaze, consuming the fallen.
Daenerys went to the Dothraki, where her truest bloodriders and Kos were put to rest. Ser Gareth went to the pyre that held the Stormlands soldiers. Ser Garlan for the Reach. Lord Royce for the Vale of Arryn. Lady Lyanna, was pushed forward for Bear Island. Sansa for the North. Jon with the Night's Watch, Arya for the volunteers who hold no ties to Westeros, Tormund for the Wildings.
Grey Worm shouted in Valyrian to light the Pyres. Kovarro did the same in Dothraki. In a chain reaction, the men standing by the pyre lit them, putting the fallen to their eternal slumber. As for us leaders, we returned to the audience and observe the final farewell to the fallen warriors. I stood there praying to the Seven, followed by the Lady of Spears, giving my men their proper funeral. In the North, they burn the dead. Only a select few are given the exception to be buried. However, the lands were cover in snow and the earth hard as stone. Thus, all were cremated.
Quaithe stood there. The five hundred fiery hand soldiers also perished. She was not of R'hllor religion. That was Melisandre, who died in spiritual circumstances. But softly, if you paid attention, she whispered the Lord of Light's prayer to give the five-hundred men their spiritual respects.
No longer was the night dark and full of terrors.
The terrors were gone, but the scars remained.
Both physically and mentally.
.o0o.
After the funeral, many turned in to their assigned quarters to rest. There shall be a feast tonight. A tradition after a significant battle. However, no one is in the mood. Jorah helped me to my chambers. The moment we reached the door, one of Lyanna's advisors came over, saying Lady Mormont wanted a word with Jorah. I let him go. Jorah was hesitant, but I assure him that I was going to rest. He nodded, leaving with the advisor.
I enter my chambers and carefully removed my coat. I groaned, feeling protest in my left shoulder. The dislocation was rough since Quaithe put it back while I was asleep. The recovery will take longer since there was bruising. Once the coat was off, I put the sling back on. I sighed, sitting down on the bed. Usually, Missandei would be helping me, as she did with getting dress and brushing my hair. But I let her spend time with Grey Worm.
Feeling exhausted, I leaned down, reaching for my boots only to cry out from the laceration on my stomach. An intensive pain as if stabbed in the stomach. I shot back up and cry, "Seven Hells!"
Suddenly there was a knock, "Alysanne?"
I sighed, "Come in, Dany."
The door opened as Daenerys came in with a concerned look, "Are you alright?"
"No," I mumbled.
"Do I need to get Quaithe or Maester Walkon?" she asked.
"I need my boots off," I answered in defeat.
She looked at me for a moment before chuckling.
"What?" I replied.
"You…for a second, I had a memory back in Braavos when you lost your shoe," she said.
I snorted from that one time my shoe fell into the lagoon after tripping. Ser Willem and Viserys turned around, asking what was wrong. I pouted, looking down, saying, "I lost my shoe." Viserys made a comment, yet Ser Willem came over picking me up.
Daenerys came over as she knelt down and started untying the laces of my boots. I stared at her, knowing I hurt her this morning. How I refused her from having a relationship with Jon. It goes against my promise that she can be with any man. Although I have a say in the marriage. Even with Daenerys believing she is barren…I just can't accept it. Mother was believed to be barren after Rhaegar since any pregnancy she had led to miscarriage until Viserys was born. I think with us being products of incest, it has made conception difficult. Not a curse by Mirri Maz Durr. If she and Jon were to get together and have a child…then that child will go through complications.
I place a hand on her shoulder, "Dany…I'm sorry."
She looked up at me with watery eyes. "I just don't understand."
"He's our nephew," I said in Valyrian.
"Rhaenyra married her uncle, and our ancestors from Valyria did the same," she countered.
"The magic of Valyria is no longer with us. Even when the Dragons now roam the skies, it is not the same magic," I tried to explain.
"But you said, most madness is made just like father." She insisted.
"Some are made, but others are not," I explained. "Viserys forced me in an incestuous marriage, all I felt was disgust. Our parents were forced into marriage. Neither of them loved each other. It led to abuse. Only our grandparents had a happy marriage, going against our great-grandparent's wishes. Remember your lessons, many incestuous marriages were terrible. It might have worked with Jaeherys and Alysanne, but it put a risk."
"But…"
"Dany, I made a sacred vow. I faced Aegon the Unlikely in the Veil and told him I will stop the practice. I can't break a promise to him after many of our ancestors helped me get back home to you. They kept the Warlocks away from my spirit. It is a dept I must pay."
She took a deep breath, "For once, I felt something more than Daario and Drogo."
I sighed, "I know Jon made you feel special deep down. Remember what Tyrion said, there will be many men who will love you, and they won't be the last."
Daenerys nodded sadly.
"The next man you fall for, I promise I will not hold you back. Hell, if you like, you can marry Daario."
She snorted as she got both boots off. We laid down on the bed, cuddling some like we used to as children. She laid on my right side, her head on my chest. Meanwhile, I comb my fingers through her hair that was not braided.
"Do you think Jon will keep his word and not tell his…siblings?" She asked.
"I believe so," I answered.
"But he has a better claim. What if the Starks don't share their secret? What if Sansa or Arya spread the word. The realm would think a Targaryen with mixed blood is better than a pureblood."
"I have faith in Jon, he shall rule the North while we reign the South."
"You deserve to rule the Seven Kingdoms."
I smiled softly, wishing I could tell her ruling the Seven Kingdoms doesn't hold the same desire like it used to. Right now, I was content, that I completed my destiny in fighting in the Long Night and stopping the Night King. Let alone the promise made to Ser Barristan. That I should find happiness. Only I made a promise to many lords that I will take the Iron Throne and, in exchange, give them justice. Already setting arrangements on who gets which lands. Being a Just Queen, there has to be justice in the crimes in what Cersei has done. I promised Lady Olenna to give justice to her son and two grandchildren. Along with Prince Doran for his family, who has been wronged.
If only I could disappear. Abdicate and allow Daenerys to be Queen of the South. Although, a part of me can tell she is not ready to be Queen of the Six Kingdoms. She spent the last few years on the concept of power and strength. Not politics. Then again, our heritage has been lost to use since Robert Baratheon stole the throne.
In the end, we have to keep our promises.
Despite how much we want to control our lives.
History has its eyes on us.
The last three Targaryens.
.o0o.
Missandei came to help us dress for tonight's feast. Daenerys wore a red gown while I wore the usual black one. We join the Starks in the Great Hall, where the main feast will take place amongst the Lords and selected members. At the main table, Jon sat centered on the table, Daenerys and I on one side while Sansa, and Bran on the other. Arya was absent, as Jon apologized, saying she is not one for parties. Not that I could blame her. Daenerys, who sat next to me, seemed out of it. I leaned forward, resting a hand on her shoulder to be sure if she was all right. She merely nodded.
The atmosphere wasn't as festive for the feast. A few conversations and small toasts. I looked around, seeing my council quiet as they eat. The same on the Starks Council. I tried to think of a way to resolve the situation. However, I was not one for these types of festivities. The introvert in me is making a comeback after years of being dormant. Let alone the exhaustion. Even after being unconscious for two days, my body just wants to lie down and sleep.
Already I can sense eyes on me. Staring at the source to be Varys and Jorah. Jorah, I understand, but Varys had my concern. The Spider has been quiet as of late. Hopefully, tomorrow he'll be singing what his Little Birds have told him over the past few days.
One man stood up from the crowd as he made his way out. It took me a moment to recognize him to be Gendry Waters. Ser Jorah had mentioned the boy and being occupied in preparation for the Great War, I had not taken the time to talk to him. From what I have been told, he is Robert Baratheon's bastard. A Dragon Seed of Aegon V's bloodline. As much as I despised the Usurper, I will not hold ill favor towards his son.
"Gendry," I called out. "That's right, isn't it?"
Silence engulfed the Great Hall. This startled the young man as he came forward. He gave a sort bow.
"Yes, Your Grace," he replied.
"You're Robert Baratheon's son," Daenerys said.
Gendry nodded.
"You are aware he took my family's throne and tried to have us murdered?" she continued.
"I didn't even know he was my father until after he was dead," he replied.
"Yes, he's dead," Daenerys murmured. "His brothers are too. Along with his niece."
"Therefore, leaving the Baratheon name to extinction," I inserted myself.
Silence continued.
"Unless I legitimize you," I added.
His eyes widen while murmuring erupted.
"Ser Gareth Wensington," I called out.
Ser Gareth came forward, which he gave a bow standing next to Gendry.
"Both of you have served the realm in these dark times," I said. "when the time comes, I promise you this. Ser Gareth of House Wensington, you shall be the Lord of Storms End and Warden of the Stormlands. As for you, Gendry, you shall be Lord of Tempest Hall. Because that is what I have made you."
There was another reason why House Wensington sided with House Targaryen in fighting for the Long Night. I promised Ser Gareth, whose House was descended from House Durrandon Storm's End and Wardens of the Stormlands. In a previous conversation, I asked him about the remaining Houses. Thanks to the War of the Five Kings, many Houses are going extinct and lands open. Some may think I'm cruel of taking Gendry's birthright once legitimized. However, I need to remind you that House Baratheon will never rise again. It is a fair land for a new generation of the Stag.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Ser Gareth said.
Gendry, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. Either because he was legitimized with a respectful name or the fact, he is a Lord with lands. He glances at Ser Davos, silently asking him if he was dreaming. The Onion Knight stood up with his glass.
"To Lord Gendry Baratheon of Tempest Hall," Ser Davos praised.
Everyone stood up, raising their goblets, "To Gendry!"
Daenerys and I smiled, raising our glass to the young lord. A distant cousin and ally. Gendry, flustered, looked up seeing Jon offering him a drink. He came over accepting the goblet while everyone cheered for him. The Stag turned around facing the others and raised the goblet in cheer, which everyone praised and took a sip. Jon glanced over Daenerys and me, giving a smile of appreciation.
Tyrion got up from his seat, waddling over between Dany and I. He spoke softly so only we could hear.
"A fitting reward for a hero," Tyrion murmured. "And a Lord of Tempest Hall who will be forever loyal to you. And a Lord of Storm's Ends."
"See?" Daenerys murmured. "You're not the only one who's clever."
"And bringing joy to this feast," I added softly.
Tyrion smiled softly, glancing at us until the smile dropped for a moment. I follow his stare, seeing a cautious Sansa. No doubt she will be careful until the contract is made between Jon and I. Tomorrow, we will discuss the plans for our possible two kingdoms. Tyrion excused himself to the back, stating he was getting more wine.
The feast continued this time in a much merrier way. I remained where I was, people-watching everyone. Seeing the Lords of the North and allies mingle about. I also spotted Jorah talking with the men of Bear Island. He smiled as if talking to an old friend. The sight warmed my heart. Maybe I can have a word with Jon and Lady Mormont to pardon Jorah. Even though I would have for the South on his past transgressions since he redeemed himself in Essos. But to allow him to go back to Bear Island…back home…is all I ask. At the beginning of our relationship, he talked about home.
Suddenly I had a sinking feeling in my chest. Wondering where his future lies. He told me he no longer cared about Bear Island, for I was his home. Only I believe actions over words.
Time seems to pass, as Bran excused himself rolling to the fireplace. Tormund and some of his men and lords came over. The Wildling leader shoved a horn filled with alcohol to Jon.
"All of it!" Tormund playfully commanded.
"No, not in one go." Jon protested kindly.
"Go on. I believe in you," Sansa encouraged.
"We have to celebrate our victory," Tormund insisted.
"Vomiting is not celebrating," Jon chuckled at his Wildling friend's behavior.
Tormund pulled back, giving a questionable look, "Yes, it is."
Everyone in the group laughed.
"Ah, to the Dragon Sisters!" Tormund cheered, raising his horn.
Everyone raised their goblets with a cheer.
Daenerys stood as well, raising her goblet, "To Jon Snow, the Hero of Winterfell!"
That made everyone stand with a cheer.
The Wildlings were chanting as Tormund chugged down his wine. Everyone laughed and cheered on that. Everyone laughed. Even Daenerys and I couldn't help but smile at the wild man's antics. Jon turned around with a smile. Sansa smiled at well, till spotting it. Although our smiles were familiar, the She-wolf saw differently that she stood up and left. I sighed, for I genuinely want to make peace between our Houses.
I took another sip of wine. It was strange to drink wine after being sober for almost a year. Yes, I have taken a few sips now and then. But I was probably on my second goblet. Already warmth could be felt in my system, and it was not from the fire.
"I saw him riding that thing," Tormund said.
"We all did," Ser Davos assured.
Tormund shook his head, "No. No. I saw him riding that thing."
"That's right, you did," Ser Davos confirmed.
"I did," Tormund said, then turned to Jon, who was amused by the drunk man. "That's why we all agreed to follow him. That's the kind of man he is." He wrapped his arm around Jon. "He's little . . ." which we all chuckle. ". . . But he's strong. Strong enough to befriend an enemy and get murdered for it! Most people get bloody murdered, they stay that way," Tormund said, spilling his ale in the air and smack Jon hard in the back who grunted. "Not this one."
Everyone laughed.
"Yeah, I didn't have much say in that," Jon said.
I frown slightly from the thought of the Warlocks poisoning.
"Ah! He comes back and keeps fighting." Tormund continued. "Here, North of the Wall, and then back here again. He keeps fighting. He climbed on a fucking dragon and fought. What kind of person climbs on a fucking dragon? Oh, wait, I DID! The first Wilding to ride a dragon!"
Everyone laughed.
Jon glanced over to us. Yes, Tormund was praising the King in the North.
"But that's not all. He killed the Night King!" Tormund praised. "The fucking Ice King."
"I'm not the only one who fought," Jon said. "Daenerys helped destroy the wights and Alysanne-"
"And the Dragon Queen slayed the Ice Dragon!" Tormund interrupted. "A Mad Woman to throw herself through the air to kill a dragon! All hail Alysanne Frozenfang!"
He shoved his hand out from his pocket, dropping something in Jon's hand. The wildling stumbled around, putting something in Daenerys's hand and another in mine.
"Something to remember your dragon battle," he slurred.
We opened our hands to see what it was. All three of us held crystal-like objects that took the form of animal teeth. Daenerys and Jon had one, while two were in my hands.
"Are these dragon teeth?" Daenerys asked.
"Aye, pried them out of the frozen bastard's mouth. A trophy for ye," he answered.
Daenerys looked up, giving somewhat of a smile.
I stared at the wildling, "Thank you."
Tormund nodded as he turned to Jon wrapping his arm around him. Dragging the poor man in another rant of a story. I turned to Daenerys, seeing her back with that distant look. She was used to us being the center of attention. Ever since arriving in the North, the attention has been on Jon. He was King of the North, and this was not our kingdom. The White Wolf had more encounters with the threat beyond the Wall than my visions. He has defeated the Night King. All we can do is smile and plan for our own true victory.
Suddenly Daenerys stood up. Varys being a gentleman, stood up as well. I reached to grab her hand, but she walked away before I could speak. I sighed, watching her leave as did Varys.
It wasn't long when Tormund left Jon alone.
"Sorry about him," Jon said.
"He's a good friend," I noted.
"Aye, he is. Loud, but good-hearted," he agreed.
"Tomorrow, I would like to speak with you and Sansa on creating a rough draft," I said.
Jon nodded, "Agreed."
I sighed, feeling the exhaustion returning. The wine adding more to it, along with a headache.
"Are you all right?" Jon asked.
"I'm just tired, thank you for asking," I answered.
"No one will hold it against you to rest," he said. "Especially being Frozenfang."
"Well, it's better than Dragon Slayer," I countered.
Jon snorted in agreement.
I tried to stand up only to become light-headed. Jon was quick as he caught me by grabbing my right arm. Immediately Varys was by my side.
"I think that is a clear sign to call it a night," I chuckled softly.
"I'm afraid so," Varys murmured. "Shall I fetch Ser Jorah to escort you to your chambers."
I stared up, seeing my lover staring from a distance with a concerned look. As much as I would want to, we have to keep the charade of him being a knight, and I am his Queen.
"No, I do not want to bother him," I said.
Varys nodded, "Then let me accompany you back."
"Thank you, Varys," I said, then faced my nephew. "Good night, Your Grace."
"Good night, Your Grace," Jon replied back.
Varys and I made our leave. Missandei almost attends, but I told her to enjoy the festivities, especially in Dothraki, to enjoy Grey Worm. She nodded as she sat back down. The walk back to my chambers was silent as Varys walk beside me, making sure I don't collapse.
"You saw it in her eyes," I whispered in Valyrian.
"I do not know what you mean," Varys replied.
"We need to keep a closer eye on my sister," I said. "The realm comes first."
Varys nodded, "And you are still on the right path."
I nodded as a yawn escaped my lips. We soon reached my chambers. Varys gave a bow before returning to the feast. I entered my chambers and sat down on the bed. Opening my hands, I stared at the two dragon fangs. They were not solid like Viserion's. No, they were almost like crystals, close to quarts. Parts of it being translucent to an opaque in a shade of pale blue. As if I was holding ice. I could still see the Ice Dragon, how it was living ice, with eyes of pale blue crystal, vast translucent wings. The sound of the Targaryen sword lodging into its chest, hearing the sound of the scales crack like glass. A creature was full of rage against humanity for enslaving it and trapped inside the wall.
"Zaldrīzes dohaeriros iksos daor," I sighed. "A dragon is not a slave."
I cover my mouth as my eyes watered. My men, my Unsullied suffered the most. So many pyres filled with Unsullied soldiers. The men who guarded the gates. Their deaths are on my hands. Many times, I told them they would have a chance to leave, not risk their lives since freeing them from Astapor. There were no contracts, they trusted me as their leader and…I put them to the slaughter.
There was a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I called out.
"It's Ser Jorah," he announced.
I took a moment to wipe my eyes and a few deep breaths to present myself.
"Come in," I said.
Jorah entered the room with a concerned look, "Are you all right?"
"I should start charging people a gold dragon if they keep asking me that," I muttered then sighed. "I'm fine. Just tired."
Jorah nodded as he came over and sat next to me. He noticed the dragon teeth in my hand.
"Tormund got it when they checked the Ice Dragon." I explained.
Jorah nodded as he took my hand taking the teeth away, setting on the nightstand before reclaiming my hand. "I've noticed you were quiet during the feast."
"Could you blame me?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Hopefully the next feast will be better."
"Maybe," I breathed resting my head on his shoulder.
Jorah rubbed my back, "You don't need to act strong in front of me."
Unable to hold it in, the tears started to fall. My Bear being careful held me in his arms as the tears fell. For almost five years since leaving Pentos life was a struggle. The visions, the destiny that Visenya placed on me to stop the Long Night. I have completed my destiny; however, it has cost me my men. How many people died for my cause? This was not the same victory I felt when conquering Yunkai and Meereen. There was no reward.
Now another war is coming because of the promises I made. Death has taken the desire of the Iron Throne. All the years of being a Queen doesn't hold interest. I just wanted to dispatch my army and run away from the very origin of my ancestors. For if I continued playing this Game, I feel like I will lose myself and people that I love.
Jorah knows this. He has seen my deepest desires for a simple life. However, we our bound to our words. Yet Ser Barristan wanted me to be happy. How can I find happiness in a constant cycle of death? How can I be Queen if three hundred years of history weighs on my shoulder?
"We can get through this," Jorah murmured. "Whatever path you choose I'll be right there."
I nodded wiping the tears away, "Can you stay tonight?"
"As you wish," he murmured.
I smiled softly, since it has been a while since he said. Well, just before the battle. The only time we tossed our façade and kissed in the courtyard. My bear, my strong bear.
We changed out of our outer layers and laid in bed. Of course, Jorah locked the door for security. We did nothing intimate, well not sexually. As I laid in his arms with my head against his chest. All I could hear was the fire crackling, his heartbeat and breathing. Along with the distant sound of the feast outdoors. The outside world vanished. It was only us.
.o0o.
Daenerys and Jon's POV
Jon stumbled into his room and sat down on the bed. His head was spinning as he mentally cursed Tormund for making him drink too much. A lot of thoughts were gathering in his head. Ever since joining the Night's Watch, and his first encounters with the wights of his fallen brothers. Ever since watching Craster abandoning his newborn son in the woods, seeing what took the baby, has come to an end. He thought back to his first encounter with the Night King in Hardhome. Now his thoughts linger back to their last encounter in the Godswood.
What the Night King said disturbed him. Mentioning about a cycle and how neither of them should have power. It made him think Bran…or better yet, the Three-Eyed Raven is up to something. Although, the vessel keeps reminding them that he was not Bran. Jon tried hard not to think his younger brother…cousin was dead. Especially what happened to Rickon. What is it about this being that had the Night King set on destroying humanity? Bran says it was history. Destroy the source of history. At this point, Jon needed to keep a closer eye on a possible enemy in his own family.
And that was not the only problem he had. Sam and Bran discovering his true parentage. Therefore, discovering he has two aunts. It makes him feel like a lie. He was a dragon in wolf's clothing. Let alone the fact, he was attracted to his aunt. Daenerys brought something out of him since Ygritte. If they were not blood-related or better yet had been cousin, there could have been something. But at last, any romantic happiness always ends with a broken heart for him.
Tomorrow he will have to face Alysanne and make the truce between House Stark and House Targaryen. He feels like he is betraying one family for the other. Alysanne understands why he was choosing House Stark. It was the only family he knows. He wanted to know more about House Targaryen, the side that is not documented in history. Wanting to know what his father was like? His slain half-siblings. All the relatives that were not the Mad King.
A headache from drinking alcohol throbbed his head as he groaned. No doubt, he will be hungover tomorrow. Maybe he can postpone the meeting in the afternoon instead of the morning. The last thing he wants is throwing up on his aunts.
The door creaked open, catching his attention. He thought it was Sansa or Arya, coming to check on him. It was none other than Daenerys. She had come in to talk with Jon. Throughout the day, she had many thoughts bothering her. Her objective is to speak with Jon. All her life, she knew one thing, and that was the Iron Throne. Although she was second in line…or better yet third in line, she wanted to protect her sister. Alysanne did so much to protect her, and the promise in bringing her home. Now Jon was here, and as much as she had feelings for him, his secret could ruin everything they have done.
"Are you drunk?" Daenerys asked.
Instantly he shot up not expecting her, saying "No," only to stumble a bit followed by a whiplash. "Only a little."
Daenerys gave a small smile before closing the door and walked towards him.
"I didn't know Ser Barristan well…but I know this," Jon started. "If he could have chosen a way to die, it would have been protecting you."
Daenerys eyes water slightly, "He was like a father to me. He loved me, a paternal love. And I loved him dearly." As she walked closer to him, staring into his eyes. "I love you."
Jon was baffled, not expecting it. Daenerys was telling him she loved him. How can this be? They've only known each other for several months, then again, they had their subtle flirting. Along with the four weeks on a ship with secret kisses and open words about themselves. It still wasn't enough to form true love.
Jon, still intoxicated, wrapped his arms around her. Their lips growing closer to one another. Daenerys had a mission. But she also wished for one night with Jon. She knew she was barren, after having sex with Daario so many times no seed could plant in her womb. Thus, a child with any complication could never be born between them. Daenerys will keep her promise to Alysanne, but only for this night, she wanted a taste of what could have been.
Jon leaned some claiming the Khaleesi lips. His thoughts jumbled as the knowledge that she was his aunt was vague. Daenerys kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him. Their lips moving softly against one another. The taste of wine and ale on their tongues. It wasn't long before the kissing grew passionate. Their hands molding around feeling their bodies. His hands in her hair while hers along his chest. The taste reminded her of bitter-sweet chocolate when she was a child in Volantis. A trader from the Summer Isles giving samples of exotic beans that can be an ingredient for sweets. The bitterness for how wrong it was, and the sweetness of her desire.
Her hands worked on his jerkin. Managed to unfasten a few strings as her hands slipped it touching his undershirt and skin. The moment of contact between her hand and his skin snapped Jon out of it. He panted, staring at her.
Forbidden fruit, he thought.
As much as he wanted her, it goes against his religion or any religion or customs. Despite being a Targaryen, it was wrong. Even with the dragon's blood in his veins, he was a wolf first. Let alone the promise he made to Alysanne, including the vow she made to their ancestors to end the practice of incest. He could love Dany as a family and a friend, but nothing more.
He pulled back, creating space between them. Not wanting to stare at the sire, he had his back turned to her.
"I wish you'd never told me," Daenerys sighed.
Jon took a deep breath, he wished Sam never had told him either.
"If I didn't know, I'd be happy right now," she continued, as she sat down on the bed. "I try to forget. Tonight, I did for a while, and then I saw them gathered around you. I saw the way they looked at you. I know that look. So many people have looked at me that way, but never here. Never on this side of the sea."
Jon sighed still keeping his back to her, "I told her I don't want it."
"It doesn't matter what you want," she snapped. "You didn't want to be King in the North. What happens when they demand you press your claim and take what is Alysanne's?"
Jon turned to her, kneeling to her level. "I'll refuse. I serve only the North. Your sister is the Queen of the South. I don't know what else I can say."
Daenerys cradle his face, "You can say nothing. To anyone, ever. Never tell them who you really are. Swear your brother and Samwell Tarly to secrecy and tell no one else. Or it will take on a life of its own, and you won't be able to control it or what it does to people."
Jon pulled back, standing up. Daenerys did the same. She was trying to protect her sister. Her sister, who always protected her. Never having an ounce of true happiness. The hard work Alysanne did to save people. Between seeing Jon and Alysanne ruling, Daenerys would rather have her sister sit on the Iron Throne.
"No matter how many times you refuse, no matter what you swear," she implored, taking his hand. "I want it to be the way it was between us."
She wanted that sweet courtship. The one she never got with Drogo or Daario. If the truth hadn't come out, then an alliance through marriage would have been made. Daenerys would had been happy to marry Jon to secure the North to the Seven Kingdoms. She would've been glad to dispatch her Dothraki forces to be his Queen.
Jon stepped closer, taking Daenerys' hand, "I have to tell Sansa and Arya."
Daenerys felt her heart sank.
Daenerys growled, "Sansa will want to see us gone, and you on the Iron Throne."
"She won't," he promised though gave her a sharp tone of a warning.
"She's not the girl you grew up with," she jabbed. "Not after what she's seen, not after what they've done to her."
"I owe them the truth," he said.
"Even if the truth destroys us?" she asked.
"It won't," he assured.
"It will," she sobbed, wrapping an arm around him. "I've never begged for anything, but I'm begging you. Don't do this. Please."
Jon cradle her cheek, "I'm sorry. But they are my family. We can live together."
Daenerys gave him a stern look. "We can. I've just told you how."
Jon pulled his hands away and stared at her. Daenerys, with an emotionless expression, left his chambers. A lover's death. When people had decided that love and duty can never work with the customs, they grew up in. Either Jon accepts his Targaryen family and keeps the secret or be too noble for his Stark family that will get more lives killed. The feelings for the White Wolf linger, yet the broken heart remained.
Jon took her words like a warning, but her tone was a threat. The Mother of Dragon's threatened his family. Sansa, Arya, and Bran, though biologically, his cousins were still siblings to him. Jon will always keep his promise he made to the Dragon Queen to not tell them until House Targaryen reclaimed King's Landing. It is the least he could do, after everything the Dragon Sisters have done. He will support both of his families. But only on his terms.
Jon hopes Daenerys will understand one day.
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