So this kind of got out of control.
First of all, I have no business writing this chapter. I've only read through the first book of ASOIAF, so this is purely based on show canon. This is as much as I'll write about politics in this universe or any other, so please excuse the implausibility of my ideas. I also know it's silly to write about Jon being king and for canon Jonmund to exist, but my head wouldn't let go of the idea, so here we are. Future chapters will probably focus more on the ships and be much less complicated.
The AU my head has built up for this concept diverges from the show in a lot of ways, but the main thing I want to stress here is that the period leading up to the war with Cersei (basically, what would have been 8.04 in show canon) took place over a longer period of time and involved a lot of subterfuge on Cersei's part. Jon and Dany were engaged during this time period and Dany's deterioration did not take place overnight. I also kept some characters alive who were killed in The Long Night.
Oh, and Jon gave Yara her independence because there is no plausible reason not to.
Before we proceed with this piss-poor attempt at me trying to write about KL politics, I just want to say two things. My comments section is an open forum and if you don't like my story, it's fine with me. It is not a place to sift for evidence to prove that any of my commenters are *insert insane conspiracy theory here*. Anyone who intends to retaliate against commenters on my story should find a new hobby ASAP.
However, if you directly call me names or refer to me as a synonym for part of a woman's nether regions again, I will delete your comment.
That said, please enjoy and leave a review if you so desire.
"I have to sit down," Brienne announced as she lowered herself to the chair and winced in discomfort. Her eyes met Jon's in an iron glare, standing out from the rest of her wan complexion.
"I need wine," Brienne said sharply after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Aye," Jon said as he poured a cup of wine and slid it across the table to her. He sat down in the chair opposite hers, waiting for Brienne to unleash the rest of her anger on him.
She had been unnaturally quiet ever since he had returned with the children and his oblivious retinue and confessed his unexpected revelation once the children had scampered off to their rooms. In public, the Lady Commander was dignified, stately, stoic – in private, she had an opinion on anything and everything, judiciously and eloquently stated, but always, always articulated in full.
Jon wasn't used to the silence.
"This isn't strong enough," Brienne professed. She sighed and her glare softened slightly. "What's that terrible drink that the Free Folk prefer?"
"Goat's milk," Jon informed her. "Makes it hard to keep a clear head. We don't keep any here."
"So it's one of those things that are better left beyond the Wall, then?" Brienne asked, arching an eyebrow.
Jon grimaced and got up to pour himself a cup of wine. He wasn't going to take the bait on that topic.
Even after all of these years, there were some parts of his life he wasn't comfortable openly discussing.
"The wall's a glorified trading post ever since the Dead fell," Jon reminded her. "Edd keeps some of this stuff on hand, but only for special occasions."
"Boredom?" Brienne suggested.
"The trade routes with the Free Folk are robust enough to keep him busy," Jon told her. "Edd and Lyanna Mormont are in open communication with a lot of the communities that have been established. He doesn't have as much free time as you would suspect."
Brienne sighed. "I need a second cup before we discuss what you told the children."
Jon got up to refill her drink and passed the cup back over to her. Brienne drained half of her second cup, and the color seemed to return her face as her eyes hardened again.
Jon felt his stomach start to clench.
"I know our responsibilities aren't as clearly delineated here as they should be," Brienne began. "I'm your advisor just as much as Jaime is. Your authority is a lot more flexible than it would be in a conventional arrangement. And maybe mine is as well. There's never been a Lady Commander of the Kingsguard, much less one that's married and a mother. So maybe I accept more help than I should."
"I relaxed the celibacy requirements for the sake of you and Jaime," Jon said gently.
"Don't pretend that it was merely mercy," Brienne scolded him. "There was politics behind it, too. And that was your idea."
"The politics was secondary," Jon insisted. "I couldn't do this alone, and Jaime would be of no use to me if he didn't have you. You know that, Brienne. You've known that for seven years."
"That's not what I'm attempting to argue, your grace," Brienne said angrily.
"Don't do that," Jon retorted. "We had an agreement a long time ago you wouldn't do that."
"I know you're more involved with my children than most people would think was proper for a sovereign," Brienne replied, the edge fading from her voice. "I'm not sure I know what's proper or not in this situation. And I've appreciated it. But I should have been the one to tell them that their father killed who he was sworn to protect. That should have been my responsibility. Mine and Jaime's. Not yours."
"I'm sorry," Jon told her. "I didn't intend to be the one that told them. It just – "
"You can face down councils and smallfolk in five kingdoms and make them bend to your will, as well as negotiate with the Free Folk and your sister's lords, but you can't thwart the demands of two manipulative Lannister children?" Brienne asked.
Jon didn't have an answer for that.
Brienne laughed. "They told you were the only one they could get a real answer from, didn't they? That you would tell them the truth? Unlike their very exhausted parents, who kept telling them they'd find out the real story when they got older?"
"Aye," Jon admitted.
Brienne drained the rest of her cup. "I didn't know how to tell them," she said softly, the anger in her eyes being replaced by resignation. "How do you tell your children to obey their parents, their nurses, their king when their father broke those vows twice and was rewarded for it? How can I tell them to not hurt other people? How I can tell them not to murder each other?" She sighed. "I was hoping I could have another ten years before they could be prepared to hear it. And even then, I wouldn't even know how to begin."
Jon folded his hands over each other. "I guess maybe it's as difficult as telling your sons that you're married to the person whose family once plotted to murder yours," he said. "That their uncle and grandfather is dead because of their father's family."
Brienne laughed bitterly. "You're not going to be the one to tell your nephews that information, though. That will be Sansa and Tyrion. It should come from their mother and father."
"You're right," Jon conceded. "It wasn't me. It shouldn't have been me. But Eddard and Jason are just younger than Joanna and Selwyn. Sansa knows she can't delay that conversation forever."
"The manner in which this unfolded is not my fault," Brienne declared.
"No, it's not," Jon agreed. "But they didn't seem that upset. I think they've been hearing these kinds of rumors about Jaime for a long time."
Brienne sighed. "What did you tell them?" she asked.
"I told them that Aerys and Cersei didn't start out wanting to strike back against their subjects," Jon began. "That Cersei lost whatever good was in her after her children died. Jaime only killed them because they were going to hurt other people. And that his job is to keep me from becoming the same person."
"And their response was – "
"Selwyn told me I was a good king," Jon said. "Joanna gave me a flower crown. I don't think I told them anything they haven't already heard."
"They didn't ask about Daenerys?"
Jon shook his head. "They don't know how Cersei is related to them," he said. "Or that her children were also Jaime's."
"I guess that's a little bit of a relief," Brienne replied. "Please promise me you'll let me handle that part by myself when the time comes."
"Aye," Jon said. "I think the appetite for that kind of gossip burned away with the rest of the city, anyway. You've got time."
"They'd rather make up rumors about you instead," Brienne stated. She focused her stare on Jon as he grunted and got up to refill his cup.
"Do you want children, Jon?" Brienne asked when he sat back down.
"I'm not sure whether I want them or not has much to do with it," Jon told her.
"Other kings have reigned without issue," Brienne reminded him.
"They have offshoots of their family line to carry on the legacy," Jon retorted. "I do not."
"Most of King's Landing is convinced that you have a mistress hidden in every corner of this kingdom," Brienne said. "They believe that the only reason you haven't married is because you can't choose between them."
Jon guffawed. "I take it that my first few attempts at a marriage alliance have disappeared from everyone's memories, then?"
"Jaime was trying to assist you, Jon," Brienne chided him. "Unfortunately, you lacked the wisdom to know not to seek his advice."
"Not every woman is as accommodating as you were, Brienne," Jon replied, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "Besides, there were other reasons."
"Daenerys?" Brienne asked.
"To a point," Jon admitted.
"Tormund," Brienne said softly.
Jon picked up his cup and Brienne's and returned to refill them. The silence hung thickly in the air.
"These chambers are as secure as your own, you know," Brienne told him after a few minutes. "I know you and Jaime have spoken about this."
"I don't want this subject talked about openly," Jon said tersely. "I can't risk any threat being posed against Tormund or the Free Folk."
"You're not their king," Brienne said gently. "No one's going to be able to get to you through them."
"No, I'm their ally," Jon barked back. "The strongest one that they could have. That bond's as important to me as any other one that I could have. I can't betray their trust."
"Is that a fear that Tormund shares?" Brienne asked.
Jon looked down at his drink. "No," he admitted. "It's mostly me."
"You wouldn't be the first king to have an unconventional private life," Brienne said. "There's a precedent for attractions of this sort having their own place in royal life besides marriage."
"I was shamed my entire life for being a result of an unconventional attraction," Jon retorted. "My entire existence is the result of an affair that caused a war. Do you think I'd inflict that on whoever had the misfortune to be married to me if I could avoid it?"
"But if it's in your nature, Jon – "
Jon shook his head. "Brienne, it's not like that. It's simpler than you think it is."
Brienne cocked her head at him. "You're not like – "
"No," Jon said softly. "I love Tormund. He's an important part of my life. I did love Daenerys. That was real. It was genuine. It wasn't politics. I know there's plenty of reasons to doubt that, but it is the truth. I loved her. I wanted to marry her."
"Why didn't you?" Brienne asked.
"I don't have an answer for that," Jon said. "It was strategy, at first. The longer we waited the more we thought it would draw Cersei into a trap. And the further we got into the war the more both of us changed. We weren't fighting for it anymore. We could have gone into the godswood at any point and had the ceremony performed, but we didn't. But it wasn't because I didn't desire her."
"I'm just trying to understand your position here, Jon," Brienne said.
"My position on what, exactly?" Jon asked.
"Marriage. Children. The Targaryen dynasty," Brienne retorted.
"I don't feel in any hurry to settle those questions," Jon replied. "And I don't want my private life to become the kingdom's business."
"Jaime and I have and will do everything possible to keep that from happening," Brienne stated. "But the young man that you are right now may not be in a position to be the father you want to be when the time does come. Take it from someone who became a mother long past the time when it was considered possible. You'll have reason to want those years back."
Jon sighed. "What if I didn't have children? What if we could build a case for Arya's daughter being my heir?"
"The connection the Baratheon bloodline has to the Targaryens is based mostly on rumor," Brienne asserted. "And it isn't a legitimate claim."
"We've already dissolved the celibacy claims to half of the institutions in this kingdom," Jon argued. "We've given the Iron Islands and the North their independence. Who's to say we can't rework the lineage in a way it hasn't been done before?"
"Your ambition's getting the best of you, Jon," Brienne replied. "I'm not sure it's enough to outweigh someone finding Daenerys and getting her to reassert her claim. Especially if she has issue, legitimate or not."
"Dany isn't going to hurt anyone else," Jon replied, sounding more confident than he felt. "If she wanted to reassert her claim, she would have tried again by now."
"I've never agreed with you or Jaime when it comes to Daenerys," Brienne reminded him. "But let's say you're right, and Daenerys intends to stay where she is. Would you want to stay here until your heir comes of age? Or would you plan to abdicate and disappear north?"
She knew him too well. "What I want and what's possible are two different things," Jon said.
"Yet there's no celibacy order to force you to go to when you abdicate," Brienne reminded him. "Unless you change your mind about the Faith of the Seven."
Jon groaned. "Absolutely not," he asserted.
"But if leaving were a possibility for you – "
"I would take it," Jon admitted. "If I felt comfortable leaving my responsibilities here with someone who could handle them."
The silence hung in the air between them for a few minutes.
"Jaime and I don't want to rule these kingdoms by ourselves," Brienne said.
Jon took another sip of his drink. "I wasn't suggesting that."
"I know you weren't," Brienne said. "In fact, my pride's a little hurt by your other implication."
Jon turned his stare on her, suddenly fierce and wolfish. "I've got my own reasons for wanting the Faith to remain in their own sphere and to protect those who would have been the Militant's victims."
"I know," Brienne told him. "And as your advisor, it's my job to tell you when you've pushed too far."
"Have I?" Jon asked. "I rebuilt the Sept. I've done everything I can to protect those who want to worship. If I've allowed people who I share more in common with than I'm willing to admit to share my counsel, I don't think it cancels my other obligations out."
"It's a balance," Brienne agreed. "But it takes work to keep it. I don't think you've pushed too far. I think it's good that you've found a purpose in your role here other than mere duty. And Jaime and I share those goals, Jon. Even if they aren't as personal to us as they are to you."
Jon let his eyes met Brienne's, a touch of softness having returned to them. "This title was never about mere duty to me," he asserted.
"I agree," Brienne conceded as she lifted her cup to clink against Jon's. "It's been seven good years for all of us. Here's to at least a couple more."