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ATP
She needs them, indeed. And vica versa.
The Tyrell… well, they want to profit (or not to fail too badly).
In the godswood
This was how Dany has imagined the North. Freezing, dark and – as Melisandre and Selyse always said in their prayers – 'full of terrors'. Like the ancient weirwood here with that direful face on its trunk.
"Why did you want us to come here?"
Jon Stark shrugs.
"This place reassures me."
Dany is searching the godswood around them, the black shadows beneath the trees the light of torches does not reach.
"Where are your wolves?" She did not see them in the castle or when they came here through the courtyard. She would not either in the inky night. Could she hear them if they were close, if they lied in wait for her?
"Hunting outside."
Dany chooses to believe him. Though, the shadows do not seem less threatening.
"I will answer your question," he promises, "but before it, please, answer mine. Why did you ask it?"
Dany hugs herself as of a defense against the cold.
"After I had arrived at Dragonstone, I sensed that my bond with Viserion, the third one of my dragons, changed. It happened because of Shireen, Lord Stannis' daughter. Rhaelle Targaryen's descendant. It took me more time to realize it back then, because it was a new experience. Now, however, I knew. But I don't understand. So, help me. If you can."
Theon warned her that Jon might not have answers for her, perhaps he cannot explain. He also prayed her to wait until morning, to think it over, to plan what she is going to do.
It was a reasonable advice but Dany did not want to listen to it.
"Your mother... one of her ancestors must have had valyrian blood," she suggests.
Slowly, Jon Stark shakes his head.
"No."
"Maybe she didn't even know…"
"It was my father."
"Your father?" Dany frowns. "Lord Eddard? But…"
"My father was Rhaegar Targaryen," he says simply.
Suddenly feeling faint, Dany has to sit down… somewhere. Anywhere. She glances around but everything is covered by deep snow. So she just sits in the snow right there.
He comes closer, kneeling beside her and touches her shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes," Dany sighs without any confidence.
A child of Rhaegar. A hidden, secret child. It sounds… ridiculous.
Yet it makes so much sense.
Jon Stark studies her with concern.
And for the first time from this very close, Dany looks into his eyes. Dark grey eyes.
There is nothing familiar in him. Nothing from Viserys. Nothing from the person she sees every time standing in front of a mirror.
His face, his expression… is so strange. He looks like someone who has spent his whole life safe.
Obviously, he did. He got everything. He has a home. He has a family.
Dany thinks of the house with the red door she lost so long ago. She thinks of the brother who Viserys never was and could have never been.
Being a Targaryen always meant starvation and escape and fear for her. And here is this man who…
Oh… how she hates him. How she envies him.
"Forgive me, but I doubt it."
Dany blinks.
"What?"
His hold on her shoulder is stronger than before.
"I doubt you are alright. We should go back…"
Dany grabs his arm so he cannot stand up.
Jon would have liked to wait with that. He would have liked to watch the Queen's behavior, to talk to her about anything else, to know what kind of person she is.
But he was not ready for the dragon. Rhaegal.
He has believed – he was so sure, he did not even think on it further – that the Queen and her dragons share the same kind of connection that he does with Ghost and Storm.
Apparently, he was wrong.
He remembers those moments outside the walls of Winterfell when they met the dragons.
The black one, Drogon, was impressive. The another… he was something entirely different.
For a heartbeat nothing else exists but the dragon.
For a heartbeat no else is important but the dragon.
For a heartbeat the world falls silent. Endlessly, perfectly silent.
Rhaegal looks at him as if he was waiting for him, as if he knew they had to meet.
When he looks at him it seems he sees something more, something different.
He sees Jaeherys.
Then, Arya pushes him, just a bit, unintentionally, when she passes him to get closer to the dragons, and the charm breaks.
But a feeling – or an echo of a feeling – has stayed with him.
"So… you're my brother's bastard." Her voice is hoarse.
"Maybe I am. My parents wedded by the northern tradition but I think most of the people wouldn't accept it since Rhaegar had already been married."
The queen stares at him for a while.
"I actually don't care you are a bastard or not."
It does not change the fact that he is her nephew. It does not change the fact that he is the rider of Rhaegal.
She wants to tell him this. But when she starts speaking the only words come out of her mouth are these,
"The iron throne is mine."
"Good luck with it," he says and it seems like he means it. A shadow of a smile appears in the corner of his mouth. "Remember, just a few hours ago I pledged faith to you as my queen."
"Jon Stark did it."
"That is who I am." Apparently, he tries to calm her.
But it does not change the fact that everything changed, because…
"You have a dragon now."
