Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Languages:
Valyrian
Common Tongue
Chapter 89: The Contract
Daenerys's POV
The following morning Daenerys decided not to attend the negotiating meeting. After last night, she doesn't want to deal with the awkward tension and have Alysanne realize what happened. Hopefully, Jon doesn't tell her sister either. She knows she should have stopped and let Jon be family. But they had something and she wanted one night with him. Yet, the vow between the dead and Jon raised in the North prevented that.
Not wanting to bar herself in her chambers, she went to the forge where the Qohorik blacksmith was. A few days ago, when Grey Worm returned with the sword, he gave it to the Blacksmith. A few days later, the Blacksmith told her that the sword needed to be reforged. At first glance, the Targaryen sword looks fine, but the Blacksmith pointed out the flaws. The coldness from the Ice Dragon caused fractures in the blade. This surprised Daenerys since the blade was Valyrian steel. In the end, Daenerys allowed the Blacksmith to reforge the sword along with designing a new hilt.
It was going to be a gift for Alysanne. Removing the past of their father's design, transforming it something new. A fresh start in their dynasty. Daenerys entered with the designs for the hilt, with the help from Missandei. Along with the unique items needed to add character.
In the forge stood the Oohorik named Durak. Durak was almost middle age, his skin was a dark olive tone. Black hair tied back with silver strands. For a man of his age, he was far muscular, with scars and burns on his arms. He could speak Valyrian, Qohorik, and Common Tongue. The moment she entered the forge, it was hot, hotter than any forge she'd been in. It was nothing to her since the heat doesn't bother her unless it was the Red Waste. In fact, any of the blacksmiths in there were on the other side of the forge away from Durak. His side was burning hot, that it was practically red.
Only one person managed to be close to help. It was Gendry. Although Durak was explaining the method to Gendry. Not touching the process. Except, when removing the blade from the hilt. Daenerys came over observing the process. Especially when the practice of repurposing Valyrian was falling to extinction. She watched as Durak placed the blade in a stone case in the firepit. Durak pulled something out of a pouch and placed over the sword. Before taking a hammer and smashed it, shattering the sword. All the fracture points exposed and break apart.
Daenerys eyes widen, for she thought Valyrian steel was indestructible.
"How?" she asked.
"It is a substance found in Old Valyria," Durak answered in a heavy accent. "My father and his father, and the fathers in the old knew of the materials needed to reforge Valyrian steel."
"Don't you just melt it?" Daenerys asked.
"Melting takes longer, make it smaller, and it shall be quicker with the powder," he said.
"What is the powder?" Gendry asked.
Durak put the slab in the charcoal forge first to start the melting process before taking a pinch of the powder and placed it in both their hands. It was a black substance, almost to the sand of Dragonstone. In other words, volcanic.
"Ashes from the Doom," Durak answered. "The Valyrians were able to make new steel, but the survivors figured out a way to reforge it."
Daenerys and Gendry were surprised.
"Do you know how Valyrian Steel is made?" Gendry asked.
Durak shook his head, "No. No one does. But there are many theories that Valyria was rich in minerals. Along with the source of the fire."
"And what fire is that?" Daenerys asked.
"Dragon fire," Durak answered.
It made sense. The Valyrian was part of the magic, and dragons were part of their daily life. If only they knew what type of metal they used.
"So, you melt it and put it in a tray?" Daenerys asked.
"That is the Volantene way," Durak answered. "My people start from scratch."
"How long will it take?" Daenerys asked.
"Three days to a week for the blade. As it cools, I shall work on the hilt." Durak answered. "Lord
Gendry offered to help. It will make things quicker."
Gendry nodded; Daenerys noticed a sadness in him. As if he was rejected as well and needed a distraction.
"Do you have the design?" Durak asked.
Daenerys nodded, presenting the illustration of how she wanted the hilt to look like. It will no longer be a simple sword with a dragon pommel. Although it will continue to be an arming sword, Daenerys made a design for the pommel, guards, and chapped. She even brought the gems for the design of pommel. Small pieces of sapphires and a topaz.
"I want these to be the eyes," Daenerys said.
"Doesn't the dragons have amber eyes?" Gendry asked.
"This sword has slain the ice dragon, it shall remember as such," Daenerys explained.
Durak nodded as he took the gems and put it in his pocket for safekeeping.
"Don't ever tell the Queen," Daenerys warned. "This is a surprise gift. So far, she only thinks that the sword was destroyed with the Ice Dragon."
Gendry and Durak nodded.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
Tyrion and I were in a private room with Sansa and Jon. We were going over the rough draft for the contract between the North and the South. Sansa was pleased to be part of the arrangement. She was more educated than Jon, which Tyrion didn't give her enough credit. Jon may know war and battle, but it was clear he doesn't understand politics. Varys told me, she used to be under the protection of Lord Baelish and trained by Cersei Lannister. Far more educated than given credit for. She understood the civil side of the North. I struggled not to smile from every remark she made. It was clear who was definitely in charge of House Stark.
Our main objective is how the North should be treated. From the Wall down to the neck. The True North, as the Wildlings called it, belongs to them. I accepted that since they suffered the most from the Great War and over eight thousand years. The North shall be independent, although if people from the South decide to move to the North, they cannot hold prejudice. The same vice versa. None can declare war against one another. There shall still be trade since the North have herbs in the springs that make essential medicine and salts. In exchange, food shall be provided to the North, especially in the winter times. With trade from the Bay of Dragons, this winter should provide for them for the next decade. Hopefully, winter will be over, and they can start their own harvest.
"Will there be a marital alliance?" Sansa asked, sternly.
"That is a good question," Tyrion agreed, approving of such a match.
As much, Daenerys and Jon could join the two houses and secure an alliance. It was not possible. House Targaryen needed new blood in order to survive. Any more incest, then the complications could be dire.
"Not in our generation," I said.
"Agreed," Jon said.
This surprised Tyrion while Sansa merely nodded, her lips twitched for a smile. No doubt, she wanted her supposed brother marrying a Targaryen. One day the North will be part of the Seven Kingdoms. The same method as King Daeron II did to bring Dorne. Even though the North doesn't realize a Targaryen is ruling over the North as is.
"I think that is enough for today," I suggested. "In a few days, we shall continue. Give us time to think of anything to add to the contract. I want to make sure everything is covered and there are no loopholes."
"Agreed," Sansa said.
"We better attend the Council Meeting," Tyrion advised.
We all became silent. The council meeting will go over the numbers of men, and the status of our armies. From the funeral yesterday, it was clear who lost the most in the Great War. With nothing else to say, we headed to the War Council chamber. In my poor condition, I sat down along with Tyrion. Jorah stood behind me while on the side was Varys, Daenerys, Missandei. Jon, Sansa, Bran, and Arya stood on the other side of the table. On the left was Grey Worm, Ser Gareth, and Ser Garland. On the right was Ser Davos, Brienne, and Lord Royce. A map was set on the table with pieces that held house crest, representing the numbers.
Grey Worm was the first to take half of the Unsullied pieces, "Half are gone."
Jon took a third of his, "The Northmen as well."
"A third for the Reach," Ser Garlan said, taking a third off the table.
"Only 700 men survive," Ser Gareth added, removing his piece since only a thousand came.
Lord Royce removed half as well.
Daenerys took a deep breath as she removed two-thirds of the Dothraki numbers.
Varys leaned over, putting a couple of pieces on the table, "And the Golden Company has arrived in King's Landing, courtesy of the Greyjoy fleet. The palace has grown distressingly even."
"You still have more men," Ser Garlan said.
"I have talked with King Snow and Lady Sansa; I'm only asking the North to send volunteers. Not through conscription. Their population has declined rapidly."
"King's Landing will have the Golden Company, Lannister Soldiers, and the Greyjoy fleet," Jorah noted.
"When the people find out what we have done for them, that we saved them –" Missandei started.
"Cersei will make sure they don't believe it," Daenerys said. "We will hit her hard. We will rip her out, root and stem."
All eyes were on Daenerys.
"The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying King's Landing," Tyrion reminded.
"Thankfully, she's losing allies by the day," Varys reported. "Yara Greyjoy has retaken the Iron Islands in her queen's name. Prince Doran pledges his support. Offering thirty-thousand men." As he placed a piece with a silver Kraken, and the Martell crest on the battlefield.
"No matter how many lords turn against her, as long as she sits on the Iron Throne, she can call herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms," Daenerys inquire. "We need the capital."
"And we will," I promised.
Tyrion took a deep breath, "I watched the people of King's Landing rebel against their King when they were hungry, and that was before winter began. Give them the opportunity, and they will cast Cersei aside."
"And how much grain do they have in the vault?" I asked.
"Enough to last five years," Varys answered.
"We'll surround the city," Jon suggested. "If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them."
"Along with the Celtigar and Velaryon navy to stop any merchants from passing," Ser Gareth added.
"If the Lannisters and the Golden Company attack, we'll defeat them in the field," Jon finished.
"Once the people see that Cersei is our only enemy, her reign is over," Tyrion assured.
I nodded, though I noticed a few people were silent. I looked at the Lady of Winterfell.
"Lady Sansa, you've been quiet, what are your thoughts?" I asked.
"The men we have left are exhausted," Sansa answered. "Many of them are wounded. They'll fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate."
"How long do you suggest?" Daenerys asked, bitterly.
"I can't say for certain, not without talking to the officers," Sansa answered calmly, her hands behind her back.
"The final decision is yours, Your Grace," Jorah said, reminding everyone who has the final say.
I looked at the map, calculating the pieces in numbers and adding on the Dornish soldiers. We have what we need to defeat Cersei's armies. However, Lady Sansa makes a fair point. The men are exhausted. The dragons are still recovering. I can sense Viserion is in no condition to fly or even breathe fire. Rhaegal, based on the reports, has a torn wing. The only dragon that is capable of fighting is Drogon.
Then I remember what Lady Olenna said. She told me Cersei was impatient. Suspense is something that annoys her entirely to a default.
"We came north to fight alongside House Stark at a great cost to our armies and families. Now that the time has come to reciprocate, it's wise that we postpone. Our people are not ready for another war. If I am correct, Cersei Lannisters will expect an attack within two months."
"The longer we leave our enemies alone, the stronger they become," Daenerys reminded.
I looked at her speaking in Valyrian that only Missandei, Varys, Grey Worm, and Tyrion would understand. My voice remained neutral, not to make the Common Tongue speakers concern.
"Sister, look at me. I am in no condition to travel. Half of our armies are gone. Our dragons are in no condition to fly. The False Queen is expecting us to strike immediately. I know home is right there, but you need to trust me."
Daenerys sighed, 'It's so close.'
"And it will be ours," I promise her.
Daenerys nodded.
I then turned to face our allies, "Ser Gareth, Ser Garland, Lord Royce, have your men return home. We will call on you when the time is right."
"When do you expect another battle?" Ser Gareth asked.
"In five months' time," I answered. I faced Lady Sansa, "Lady Sansa, with your permission, I ask that the Unsullied and Dothraki remain here to recover. In exchange, they will help in the restoration of Winterfell. Along with a shipment of food."
"I believe that can be arranged," Sansa replied.
I nodded on the terms, as did many of the War council. The Second-Long Night has tired us all. If we head into battle now, our numbers will befall drastically. Not enough men to recover and a longer time to restore the population. If we all recover, then we have a better chance to surround the city and force the people to overthrow Cersei.
"So, if all are in agreement . . ." Tyrion paused.
The Lords and Ladies nodded.
"We have won the Great War. Now we will win the Last War. In all Seven Kingdoms, the people will live without fear and cruelty under our leadership," I said, staring at Jon and Sansa, ensuring I will not go against them.
Jon nodded while Sansa looked at me with a slight smirk. She was still keeping her poise among men, yet our silent agreement is confirmed. The Seven Kingdoms will be run by two houses. Targaryen and Stark. Even though there is a Targaryen in wolf's clothing.
The meeting ended there since all of us were anxious to rest and prepare for departure. Everyone but my council remained. Once the doors were closed, I glanced at Varys.
"How bad is it at Dragonstone?" I asked.
"Euron's fleet had been spotted sailing up the coast," Varys answered. "Lady Olenna and Prince Quintyn and Tyene have been evacuated to the Riverlands where safe passage will take Lady Olenna back to Highgarden."
"Are any of the Lannister Soldiers between the Westerlands to the Crownlands?" Jorah asked.
"No, Cersei has gathered all of the Lannister forces in the Crownlands," Varys confirmed.
"Good, it will make the men have safe passage on the roads," I sighed.
I looked at both Varys and Tyrion, "I need to know all the passages in King's Landing. If we can stop Euron's Fleet, then we can sneak into the Red Keep."
"I know of a few passages," Varys answered. "I'll have my little birds check to see if they are secured."
I nodded, "That should be all."
Jorah helped me up, allowing me to put weight on him. I took a deep breath evening out the discomfort on my side. A fractured rib indeed. Only time can heal that one. It was a miracle the armor protected me so from the fall. Everyone nodded as they headed outgoing their separate ways. We were all tired. No one is ready for another battle.
I know Daenerys was impatient, but she understands that no one is ready. We both lost a lot of men, and the last thing we need is the Dothraki extinction. Let alone acquiring more horses. If Varys is correct, King's Landing has five years of supplies…that is suitable for a million people. With the refugees from both the War of the Five Kings and our arrival, the grain will be gone in two years.
Patience is key.
.o0o.
The following week has been recovery and working on the contract with House Stark. I did spend two days checking on the dragons. With my guards and Jorah being my support on his horse, we checked on them. Rhaegal and Viserion were indeed in worse condition.
I examined Viserion seeing the lacerations have started to heal, yet there were good dents on his neck. Viserion purred when I reached his face and rubbed his snout.
"My poor golden dragon," I murmured.
Viserion gave a sigh closing his eyes. I remember his voice being a crisp tenor with a slight echo to it. It will possibly be the only time I will actually hear him. Yet we still have a strong emotional bond. As we can feel each other's emotions.
"How long do you think he'll need?" Jorah asked.
"Two months at most," I answered sadly. "He won't be able to breathe fire from the wounds on his neck anytime soon. If he did, it might kill him."
Jorah nodded, agreeing on the dent. He saw the Ice Dragon's teeth. They were larger than that the regular dragon teeth. Not the ones Tormund gave me. Still, they did such damage. I then went over to Rhaegal, seeing he had a nice claw slash across his chest, a few dents on his neck. Yet there were two massive tears in his wings. I rubbed Rhaegal's neck, which he sighed, relaxing.
"I wish there was a way to protect them better," I said.
Jorah snorted. I turned around, facing him.
"What?" I asked.
"It would be ironic to see a dragon wearing armor," Jorah answered.
I couldn't help but laugh. Then again, I recalled some paintings of the dragons wearing armor. At least a type of peytral, crinets, and possibly a chamfron. Similar to what horses wear.
"It would be a lot of metal, and time to build such armor for all three dragons," I sighed.
"And mighty they will be," Jorah said, as he came over.
"I doubt Durak would appreciate the work," I chuckled.
The Qohorik blacksmith has done a lot in making armor for my council and officers. Already he is at work, repairing the armor as we speak for the next battle. He will probably curse us if I ask him to make armor for the dragons. Let alone the Northern blacksmiths are occupied in producing materials for Winterfell's restoration.
"Probably so," Jorah said, as he leaned down and gave me a kiss.
I sighed into the kiss. We still kept our relationship behind closed doors. The Night before the Long Night and the moment before we lost our barring in fearing of death. The following days, Varys says Jorah being in my company the Northmen assumed was guard duty. A sworn shield. Still, with my recovery, we haven't been intimate. Neither of us has the energy to perform right now.
Jorah soon pulled back from the kiss, "We better return."
I nodded, in a few hours, will be signing of the truce. The contract between the North and House Targaryen. Jon wanted the signing to be in front of the Lords. Most importantly, peace between the North and the South. Assuring the Northern Lords that House Targaryen will not set fire and blood. When we returned, I went to my bedchambers, where Missandei was to prepare me for the signing. I put on a black gown. The gown was loosened, making it easier to breathe. I no longer need a sling, yet my body was still sore, covered in bruises.
Daenerys soon joined in her red gown, "Are you sure you want to give the North its independence?"
"Lady Sansa and Jon worked hard in reclaiming Winterfell from the Boltons. They did everything in their power to restore House Stark and give justice to the Northern Lords. It's the least I can do, especially after Rhaegar and our Father's actions." I told her.
Daenerys nodded, "Hopefully, the Northmen accepts it."
"As do I," I sighed.
When we were ready, the Small Council joined us as we entered the Small Hall. The Lords were there, along with other important figures. Jon, Arya, Bran, Sansa, Ser Davos, and Maester Walkon stood by the table where the final draft of the contract is made. Daenerys, Tyrion, Varys, and Missandei stood on our side. Behind the tables on each side of the fireplace were two banners. House Stark and House Targaryen.
Jon gave the nod, as I nod in return. Tyrion came forward to read the final print of the contract. At first, everything seemed perfect. Sansa smiled on the terms, ensuring the North will indeed get official independents with Jon Snow as their King. Many murmurs from the lords and ladies can be heard in agreement. Yet there was apprehension by many. Once Tyrion finished, he stared at Jon and me.
"I ask his gracious Majesty, the King in the North, to be the first to sign, in good faith, the Treaty of reconciliation and independence," Tyrion said announced.
Jon collected the quill dipping it in ink before reaching the parchment.
"Your Grace, wait!" One lord called out.
All eyes turned to the main group where the Lords and Ladies were. The Lord who spoke, was Lord Glover. From what I've been told, he did not participate in the Battle of Winterfell. Instead he hid in Deepwood Motte. He'd arrived just yesterday.
"What is it, Lord Glover?" Lady Sansa asked.
"This doesn't make sense," Lord Glover replied. "Are you telling us, House Targaryen is giving up the North in good faith? What are the conditions?"
"If you were listening, the conditions are not to raise our banners against House Targaryen or aid any of their enemies," Arya said.
"Still, how can we trust a Targaryen," Lord Glover sneered. "There is nothing to secure the Targaryens from attacking. Not even a marriage contract or a ward?"
If only you knew, I sighed.
There were murmurs between the men trying to figure out a way to accept this alliance. Ironic that these men fear a woman. Not the dragons, but a woman ruling the Southern Kingdoms. I have kept my word to the people. I was not my father.
"If I could make a suggestion," Lord Royce said, standing up. He walked around, taking the center of the floor. Everyone stared at him, wondering what he would say. Lord Royce was one of the tribunal members of the Vale of Arryn. He has done so much for House Stark and the Vale.
"What suggestion do you have, Lord Royce?" I asked.
"The men won't admit it, but a woman of power frightens them. Especially one with dragons," Lord Royce answered. "To secure the alliance, the best option is to have with you married."
"King Jon and I have no desire to wed," I informed him. "Nor my sister."
"No, the King in the North should marry a Northern Woman," Lord Royce assured. "But if you want the North to be assured of peace, you might consider marrying a Northman."
Not this again, I mentally groaned.
The Northern Lords murmured about this as they agreed. I stared at them, seeing many held no attraction to since most were middle-aged or too young for me. There were probably three men who may be suitable. The Lords would reasonably expect Lord Cley Cerwyn, Gawen Glover, or Asher Forrester. Unfortunately, I have no interest in marrying these men.
"I agree," Lord Horwood said.
"Aye!" Many of the lords said.
The only ones who were not agreeing to this were Lady Karstark and Lady Mormont. I glanced at my council and was baffled by this. Daenerys held back her tongue. Varys and Tyrion concern. Missandei and Grey Worm were shocked. As for Jorah, his jaw was tensed.
"Enough!" Jon shouted to silence his men.
He, too, was not pleased by the suggestion of marriage. Sansa scowled at the Lords on such a practice. All three of us had made it that marriage would not secure this alliance. However, the Northerner Lords wanted it. They wanted me to marry one of their own.
"It is only a suggestion," Lord Royce said.
I stood up, "I will need to think about it."
Either nothing else to say, I left the room, followed by my council. We made it to the tower, into the solar room. So many emotions were running through my veins. Furious that Lord Royce would suggest marriage. The last time marriage was offered, my fiancé was murdered by assassins. Hizdahr zo Loraq did not deserve to be slaughtered like that. Then again, any forced marriage resulted in death on the potential husband. Viserys, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, and Hizdahr zo Loraq either forced marriage on me or pressure into it. I must be cursed. Can the gods give me a break?
The door open and then closed. I turned around, expecting to see my council. Instead, it was only Ser Jorah. He, too, held mixed emotions. After everything, we been through. We love each other, and now, we could be separated again.
"Jorah," I started only nothing came out afterward. "Fuck."
Jorah took a deep breath and came over. It happened so fast, as Jorah had me pinned against the wall. My eyes widen, not expecting it. He had both of my arms, prisoning me with the hard, muscled wall of his chest. He put a hand on my cheek, his fingers rough. I have seen Jorah jealous before, yet he counters with sharp words instead of actions.
"Jorah, please listen," I whispered, my heart was racing. I was not scared of him, knowing he won't hurt me.
However, he did not as he claims my mouth with an angry kiss. This caught my breath, stifling a cry of genuine surprise. His mouth slanted, breaking past the barrier of my lips and plunder my mouth. The hunger of him was bruising, going far beyond the physical to pull something deep inside me. A sigh escaped my throat, unable to restrain it as I bit along his lips. The warmth and weight of him encouraging him to go further. It was the permission he nodded to slide his hand up my hip to waist, and I could feel the pressure of his fingers.
"Jorah," I pleaded.
"Don't marry any of them," he growled.
My eyes widen in hearing the possession in his voice.
"I don't want to marry any of them," I assured.
Jorah pulled back, looking at him straight in the eyes, "Then chose me."
I stared at him in shock.
"They want you to marry a Northerner then chose me. They will try to take the crown, the throne, and your value, but I won't. I see you as my equal, if not higher."
"Jorah," I whispered in shock. "What about Bear Island? Don't you want to return home and restore House Mormont's bloodline?"
Jorah kissed my forehead, "You are my home."
My eyes watered as I hugged him. Jorah was willing to give up everything for me. All he ever did was serve me to the highest regard. He has fought for me. Killed for me. And if he could, he would die for me. The same level I have seen in the Daznak Pit. All he has done, despite one event, has led us to this.
"Jorah Mormont Targaryen has a good name to it," he added.
I couldn't help but let the chuckle escape. We may have some differences and sins from the past. But our five years have let us redeem ourselves to be together.
"Then yes," I accepted it. "I will marry you."
Jorah smiled as he kissed me again, only this time, it was not as rough and possessive a moment ago. If the Northern Lords want me to marry a Northmen, so be it. Only I will choose who it will be. And it will be the man I love. Not some stranger. Not someone who will try to dominate me into submission.
There was a knock. Jorah soon pulled back as we corrected ourselves.
"Come in," I said.
The door opened as the Small Council came in.
"I assume Jorah proposed," Daenerys teased.
Varys and Tyrion looked at me in question.
"Yes, Ser Jorah and I are engaged to be married," I confirmed.
"The Southern Lords may not take the comfort of a woman of your status to marry from a lesser house," Varys warned.
"Then they should have made an effort twenty years ago," I countered.
Varys nodded.
"Then we better return," Tyrion declared.
I nodded as we returned back to the Small Hall, where the Starks and other Lords waited. I returned to my spot facing the Lords.
"After talking with my council, I have decided to follow your terms," I announced.
The men gave a slight cheer.
"That is why I chose Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island to be my consort," I said.
Silence engrossed the room, as Lord Wyman Manderly stepped forward, "Your Grace, Ser Mormont is a disgraced knight."
"Last I checked, Lord Manderly, Ser Jorah has been pardoned by King Robert for his crimes," I said. "And during his exile, he partook in my campaign to end slavery."
"He owns no lands and is a disgrace to House Mormont," Lord Marlin Dormund added.
"You are wrong," Lady Mormont stood up from her wheelchair and took center. "It is true, my cousin made a mistake. I don't care. He has proven himself in the Great War. Saved my life. To which I am eternally grateful. I welcome him back to Bear Island."
Jorah was shocked by this.
"Aye," Jon spoke. "In the past year, Jorah has proven himself. He served his Queen and went beyond the Wall. Robert Baratheon pardoned him from the Seven Kingdoms. And I pardon him for the North."
The Lords and Ladies whispered amongst each other.
"Are there any disagreements?" I asked.
There was a moment of silence.
"Then it is decided, to secure the North of its independence, Queen Alysanne of House Targaryen shall marry Ser Jorah of House Mormont," Tyrion said. "Binding the alliance between the North and the South. All who oppose speak now."
Silence.
"All who agree?"
A cheer bellows through the entire chamber.
"Now, as I was saying," Tyrion said, turning to Jon. "I ask his grace, the King in the North, to be the first to sign, in good faith, the Treaty of Reconciliation, Independence, and Perpetual Peace."
Jon took the quill and signed his name on the document. Lady Sansa stepped forward, signing her name as a witness.
"And now I ask her gracious majesty, The Queen of the Six Kingdoms, to also sign, in good faith, the Treaty of Reconciliation, Independence, and Perpetual Peace," Tyrion said.
I stepped forward, taking hold of the quill and signed my name on the document. Daenerys came forward and signed her name as well, to be my witness. Maester Walkon stepped forward, holding a wax spoon filled with grey wax pouring it on the document, and using a stamper put the Direwolf Crest of House Stark. Missandei did the same, as she poured a red wax and pressed the Dragon Crest of House Targaryen. The Lords and Ladies applauded in this contract.
I stared at Jorah, smiling at him as he smiled back.
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