When Jon Snow and Ser Davos Seaworth arrived upon Dragonstone, Rhaena was immediately informed. Donning a gown of flowing sable adorned with creamy pearls and delicate silver seashells, Rhaena hurried to the throne room in order to greet the guests as Daenerys sat in her throne. She had offered a grand seat be made for Rhaena to sit upon in a place of honour, but Rhaena preferred to stand. Only one of them could sit upon a throne, and Rhaena was more than happy to pass that burden onto Daenerys who truly desired it. So she stood instead, the light gossamer of her sleeves slashed down the front so that her arms could move without restrictions, falling to the ground and spilling like inky pools upon the stone. Upon her head Rhaena wore a coronet of silver studded with black diamonds and amethysts, detailing her as the princess and heir of the Seven Kingdoms. Daenerys had had it made for her before leaving Meereen, beautifully crafted and Rhaena was glad that it was light. She did not think she would be able to tolerate something heavy and restrictive upon her head like a crown. Her sister was yet to wear one, adamant that the first crown she would don would be the crown of the Seven Kingdoms after she had taken back her throne.
Taking a deep breath in order to clear her thoughts and appear more dignified, Rhaena watched as Jon and Ser Davos were brought before herself and her sister. Jon's eyes immediately fell upon Rhaena who gave a minute nod to him. A slight smile touched his features, his shoulders relaxing instinctively to see Rhaena there, however when Jon's eyes then shifted to see the sister and queen Rhaena had spoken so much about, the breath left his lungs. This was what Jon imagined a queen should look like. Beautiful. Dignified. A queen who was a queen even without a crown, silks or finery. Even wearing simple clothing, Daenerys Targaryen was the most impressive regal being Jon had ever seen. Curious by his reaction, Rhaena studied Jon carefully as Missandei spoke. "You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains." Always proud to introduce her queen and all her titles, Missandei waited expectantly along with all others in attendance. After receiving a glance from Jon, Ser Davos picked up his voice.
"This is Jon Snow," he paused, uncertain of what else to say. "He's the brother of the King in the North." Smirking to herself, Rhaena looked to Tyrion who shared a look with her.
"Thank you for traveling so far, my lords. I hope the seas weren't too rough." Beginning the pleasantries, Daenerys observed her guests carefully in order to see what she could tell of them, Jon Snow in particular. She had heard many things of him from Rhaena, who had a clear affection for him as she did the rest of the Stark family. The way she spoke of them often made Daenerys feel envious, for they had spent time with Rhaena which should have belonged to her, playing and singing and exploring as children. She would never get that time back, and now it seemed that Rhaena loved the Starks and this Jon Snow as she would were they her own natural born siblings. It made Daenerys envious yes, but also curious. Curious to know what kind of people they were to earn her sister's love so unconditionally and absolutely. She had flown all the way across the Narrow Sea and almost all of Westeros in order to go to their aid and save them from the doom of their House. There was much to be uncovered here, and Daenerys was determined to have answers. Answers and loyalty.
"The winds were kind, Your Grace." Jon, unfortunately, did not have a way with words or experience as a diplomat. Beyond being polite, his voice fell flat and he struggled to think of what else to say. The way the silver queen looked at him made him uncomfortable, the hard stare seemingly as if she was attempting to pull every secret he possessed from his head and lay it bare before him. "I apologise my brother could not be here with us."
"I understand that Lord Robb has many demands upon his duty as Warden of the North now that he has returned to his rightful place," Daenerys begun slowly, continuing to observe these men and their reactions. Rather than Jon speaking, it was the older and more weatherworn man who answered her, his beard so course and white it seemed as if the salt of the sea had dried upon his jaw and chin.
"Apologies. I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know, but Robb Stark is King in the North, Your Grace. He's not a lord." Arching an eyebrow at his bluntness, Daenerys began to ask forgiveness but trailed off and tilted her head towards her Hand, Tyrion, who also attended her in the throne room. Rhaena stood to her left and Tyrion to her right, both at the bottom of the steps of her throne. She felt comfortable having both of them there with her.
"Your Grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth." Tyrion provided her promptly, allowing her to put a name to a face.
"Forgive me, Ser Davos. I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn the last King in the North was Torren Stark who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen in exchange for his life and the lives of the northmen," Daenerys spoke innocently as though she might have been mistaken, but only out of politeness. Despite her sister's love for these men, Daenerys had no intention of yielding the North after waiting so long to return and rule seven kingdoms. Not six. "Torren Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. But do I have my facts wrong?"
"I wasn't there, Your Grace."
"No. Of course not. But still, an oath is an oath. In perpetuity means…what does perpetuity mean, Lord Tyrion?" Again Tyrion answered her dutifully, telling all present that perpetuity meant forever. "Forever." Daenerys smiled sweetly. "So I assume, my lord, that you're here to bend the knee."
"I am not." Were it not for the gravity of the situation, Rhaena might have laughed at Jon's bluntness. He surely did not change. Direct and honest as always.
"Oh. Well, that is unfortunate. You've travelled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?"
"Break faith?" Now Jon seemed to find his voice and his courage, putting aside the initial fluster to be standing in the presence of such beauty and imposing presence. "Your father burned my grandfather alive. He burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms."
"My father was an evil man." Admitting that their father was not of sound mind, Daenerys could not deny that there would be a certain degree of animosity between her House and House Stark, though admittedly she had hoped that the love between her sister and the Starks would have removed any ill blood and persuaded them to bend the knee to her. If not out of respect for her claim, then for the affection they held for Rhaena. Did her sister not tell her that they were their allies? If they were true, then they should bend the knee and proclaim her the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. It was her right. "On behalf of House Targaryen I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family." Her eyes remained impassive and calculating all the while, something which Rhaena did not fail to notice as her head turned slightly to regard her sister as she continued to speak. "And I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father. Our two houses were allies for centuries. Those were the best centuries the kingdom's ever known. Centuries of peace and prosperity with the Targaryens sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow. Honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name your brother Warden of the North once again and grant you a title and lands of your own. Together we will save this country from those who would destroy it." Despite the temptation of such an offer, Jon knew that he had to refuse. Robb would never bend the knee to a stranger, not even to Rhaena's sister, and neither would he.
"You're right. You're not guilty of your father's crime, and I'm not beholden to my ancestor's vows." The sweet smile fell away from Daenerys and was replaced with an expression of displeasure.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I need your help and you need mine." Amused at the suggestion that she would need the aid of this rugged northerner, Daenerys looked first to her sister who merely lifted a shoulder in a partial shrug before then looking to Tyrion, who betrayed nothing of his own thoughts. Her eyes shifted once more to Jon.
"Did you see three dragons flying overhead when you arrived?" Recalling the sight of not one but three dragons soaring over the island, Jon affirmed that he had seen them. Rhaegal he had recognised instantly, and the other two only by Rhaena's descriptions. She had not exaggerated when she had told him once that Drogon was far larger than his brothers. The great black beast seemed as if it could fly into the sky and swallow the sun. "And did you see the Dothraki, all of whom have sworn to kill for me?"
"They're hard to miss."
"But still, I need your help?"
"Not to defeat Cersei," Ser Davos informed darkly, feeling the pressure upon both himself and Jon to persuade this silver queen that there were other enemies more dangerous and pressing than a queen on an iron seat. "You could storm King's Landing tomorrow and the city would fall. Hell, we almost took it and we didn't even have dragons."
"Almost." Unable to help himself, Tyrion recalled the night of the Battle of the Blackwater with a sense of proud satisfaction. It had been one of his greatest achievements, after all. No one other than Rhaena acknowledged his quip, her quick smirk flying his way before the evidence was removed from her expression entirely.
"But you haven't stormed King's Landing. Why not?" Jon now questioned, attempting to understand the tactics of this queen who had spent most of her life growing up in foreign lands. Despite being born here in this very keep, she was a stranger to Jon as well as to all the people of Westeros. This was the closest she had ever been to King's Landing and the Iron Throne in her entire life other than the night she was born. "The only reason I can see is you don't want to kill thousands of innocent people. It's the fastest way to win the war but you won't do it. Which means at the very least you're better than Cersei."
"Still, that doesn't explain why I need your help."
"Because right now you and I and Cersei and everyone else, we're children playing at a game screaming that the rules aren't fair." Now insulted, Daenerys turned to look at Tyrion who's back was still turned to her from where he stood at the base of the throne's steps.
"You told me you liked this man," she accused him shortly, though Tyrion rather strongly confirmed that he did indeed like Jon Snow. This did not improve Daenerys's mood. "In the time since he's met me he's refused to call me queen, he's refused to bow and now he's calling me a child."
"I believe he's calling all of us children. Figure of speech."
"Jon Snow is not known for his eloquence, dear sister." Rhaena finally spoke and Jon could not have felt more relieved. At the very least, he knew that someone other than Ser Davos was with him.
"Your Grace, everyone you know will die before winter is over if we don't defeat the enemy to the north."
"As far as I can see, you are the enemy to the north."
"I am not your enemy. The dead are the enemy." The air hung with silence as all those unaware of the truth processed Jon Snow's words which sounded like nonsense to them. Daenerys herself was sceptical and could not bring herself to believe that this Jon Snow was speaking any form of sense to her. She repeated his words slowly, as if doing so would make them seem any less ridiculous. Finding no such change, Daenerys questioned if this was another figure of speech but Jon cut between them in frustration and irritation. "The Army of the Dead is on the march." Daenerys was not the only one who remained uncertain in his belief, though Tyrion repeated his words whilst already knowing Rhaena's view on this news Jon Snow brought to them. She believed him, despite not having seen anything to confirm his truth. "You don't know me well, my lord, but do you think I am a liar or a madman?" Challenging Tyrion, Jon looked to him sharply. Tyrion did not know what to believe, but he knew that Jon was neither a liar nor a madman and said so himself. "The Army of the Dead is real. The White Walkers are real. The Night King is real. I've seen them. If they get past the wall and we're squabbling amongst ourselves…" Taking a step towards the throne, towards Daenerys, Jon was made to stop when the Dothraki guards shifted their hands towards their strange weapons, but still he looked pleadingly upon the queen. "We're finished." Turning herself in order to properly look upon her sister, Rhaena watched as Daenerys contemplated Jon's words before finally speaking.
"I was born at Dragonstone," she began, taking a route which left Rhaena puzzled. "Not that I can remember it." Rising to her feet, Daenerys began to descend the throne steps towards where Jon stood, recounting the woeful tale of her beginnings to this stranger before her. "We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib." Her voice was as hard as the stone of her throne. "Not that it matters now of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me. I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a brood mare. I have been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile?" She continued towards Jon with measured steps, radiating a power that was utterly her own, forged from the years of her life overcoming every obstacle and trial that had been thrown her way. She was like iron. "Faith. Not in any gods. Not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea. Any sea." She halted before him. "They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms. And I will." Slightly distracted by the woman before him and the presence she commanded, Jon struggled only for a brief moment before answering her claim.
"You'll be ruling over a graveyard if we don't defeat the Night King." Choosing to intervene, Tyrion walked forwards in order to join his queen and explain their position to their guests who had been summoned to bend the knee, but instead were attempting to divert their resources and armies to the north away from their goal.
"The war against my sister has already begun. You can't expect us to halt hostilities and join you in fighting…whatever you saw beyond the Wall."
"I believe them." Her voice rang like clear crystal, certain and decisive. Stepping forwards so that she too was present in the little gathering consisting of her sister, two of her dearest friends and an endearing knight, Rhaena situated herself so that she stood exactly between the two parties so that her devotions were clear. "If Jon Snow and Ser Davos say there is an evil in the North that needs vanquishing, then that is where we should be." Daenerys had expected her sister to side with the stranger, Jon Snow. It brought her love and loyalty into question, and yet Daenerys also knew that her sister was no fool. She was wise as she was cunning, and she did not offer her love and devotion blindly. It must be earned, and this man before her had somehow earned it entirely.
"You trust in his word?" Daenerys questions, holding Jon Snow's eyes for a few moments more until she turned in order to look upon her sister, surprised to find her smiling to her with such warmth and affection that it melted Daenerys's heart. That look. It was the look she lived for. The look of a sibling, a sister, one who loved her simply for existing, loved her for being alive, loved her despite their years of separation. Daenerys had never received that look from Viserys, not even when they had been younger, so to have it now meant everything to her. In that moment, Daenerys might have agreed to anything Rhaena had asked simply for the expression on her face.
"Yes. I trust him." Steeling herself in order to maintain her queenly composure, Daenerys forced herself to look back at Jon Snow who still refused to concede to her.
"Why?" For a moment Rhaena said nothing, and the silence finally pulled Jon's attention away from the silver queen to the silver princess instead. Rhaena was still smiling, her eyes aglow with warmth and laughter. Their eyes met and Jon also felt that sensation of melting within him, as if all his fearful woes were turning into warmth and comfort. Only Arya had looked at him with such sisterly adoration before, though Sansa now also had begun to look upon him with such an expression.
"Because, despite his name," Rhaena finally answered, her attention fully focused upon Jon Snow. "He is a Stark. He is his father's blood. His word is true." Giving him a final look of understanding, Rhaena continued to speak. "Jon has ventured beyond the Wall and seen what lies there. He risked everything even after being named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch to go back and save the lives of thousands of wildlings from the grasp of the undead. He could not save them all, but he went all the same. Not only this, but the wildlings now see him as a friend and a leader. They follow him, they trust him. Jon Snow earned this because of who he is. Not because he is the son of Lord Eddard Stark, but because he is good and true. It is not in his nature to be deceitful; I doubt he could even manage it. I know him to be kind, generous and gentle hearted." Reaching out her hand, Rhaena placed it upon her sister's shoulder, brushing lightly at her hair. "It would be fruitless to claim the seat of our father, only to lose it to a dead man who walks." This began to stir thoughts in Daenerys's head, seeing the logic in such reason. Appreciating Rhaena's clever tongue and words, Ser Davos nodded his head in agreement.
"If we don't put aside our enmities and band together, we will die." He said finally, simplifying much of what Rhaena had said into a few simple words. "And then it doesn't matter whose skeleton sits on the Iron Throne."
"If it doesn't matter, you might as well kneel." Rhaena might have smacked Tyrion up the back of his head had she not needed to reach around her sister in order to reach him. "Swear your allegiance to Queen Daenerys. Help her to defeat my sister and together our armies will protect the north."
"There's no time for that. There's no time for any of this. While we stand here debating…"
"It takes no time to bend the knee. Pledge your sword to her cause." Despite Tyrion's demands, Jon remained defiant.
"And why would I do that?" He turned back towards Daenerys. "I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I don't know you. As far as I can tell your claim to the throne rests entirely on your father's name. And my own father fought to overthrow the Mad King. My brother and the lords of the north placed their trust in me to find help for them, to help protect their homes, their families and their people, and I intend to do so no matter who thinks me mad or a liar."
"That's fair," Eventually conceding that much, Daenerys took on a dangerous edge to her tone. "It's also fair to point out that I'm the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. By declaring himself king of the northern most kingdom, your brother is in open rebellion."
"Sister…" Rhaena soothed softly, seeing that these talks were not proceeding as she had hoped. "Jon makes a valid point. We have done nothing to earn the love and respect of the north. Perhaps if we were to do them a kindness, show them that you would be a far better queen for the kingdom instead of Cersei, then they will gladly devote their loyalty to your cause…" However, this time, Daenerys looked at Rhaena with a sharp coldness which took Rhaena aback. Daenerys was angry. With her. Hearing her sister defend this stranger despite their blood bond, Daenerys could not help but feel incensed. Here she was attempting to command the respect of a man who should be on his knees proclaiming her queen, but her sister was defending his own position and the brother who openly rebelled against her. The anger was quick and fierce, however when Varys hurried into the throne room and whispered his news into her ear, the anger settled and became replaced with a calm rationality. Anger would not serve her here. Taking herself up, she returned her attention once more to her guests. "You must forgive my manners. You will both be tired after your long journey. We'll have baths drawn for you and supper sent to your rooms." Turning aside as Rhaena looked to Varys, Daenerys instructed one of her Dothraki guards to take the guests away and watch them.
"Am I your prisoner?" Pausing as she ascended the steps to her throne, Daenerys looked back in order to study him coolly.
"Not yet." Looking instead to Rhaena, Jon saw her hand make a slight motion at her side which gestured for him to go whilst her look promised that she would find him later. Right now, however, she wanted to hear what Varys had to say, because whatever the news it did not sound fortunate.
"Our Iron Born and Dornish allies were attacked on route to Dorne." Hearing this, Rhaena strode forwards with wide eyes.
"Trystane?" She demanded almost breathlessly as Varys looked to her, giving a delicate bow before answering.
"Prince Trystane had already returned to Dorne before the Iron Born fleet, in a smaller, swifter, single ship. As far as my birds can tell me, he is still safe and amassing his forces." Well, it was something at the very least, Daenerys reasoned that although they had lost the fleet, they still had their allies in the south. "Two or three ships escaped. The rest sunk our captured. Ellaria and the Sand Snakes dead or captured. The Greyjoys are dead or captured." Her entire body tensed as she continued to think of her allies and the strength that they had promised her. Gone.
"All of them?" Varys could give her no definitive answer, and so he chose to remain silent. A graveness passed over those who understood the meaning of such a blow, however Daenerys felt the rage of a dragon resurface within her. She turned and looked upon Varys expectantly, jaw firmly clenched and only loosened it in order to demand an answer to her question. "Who?"