Yeah, if you give me just one night,
to meet you underneath the moonlight.
Oh, I wanna take two,
I want to breakthrough.
I wanna know the real thing about you,
so I can see you in a new light.
Take a ride up to Malibu,
I just wanna sit and look at you,
look at you.
What would it matter if your friends knew?
Who cares what other people say, anyway.
Oh, we can go far from here,
and make a new world together, babe.
-John Mayer, "New Light"
With an hour to themselves before the grand event that evening, it was spent on last-minute preparations. As well as adjusting to the ostentatious display of wealth that composed the sprawling palace of Casterly Rock.
The dry heat and blazing sun were welcome friends after the North cursed them with overcast skies. The change in climate hitting Jon when he stepped out of the plane upon landing late that morning. It got warm up North but those temperatures were nothing compared to the Westerlands. The secretaries warned them of the temperatures, the high eighties and mid-nineties. The kind of insufferable numbers Jon knew he would dislike. However, the heat wavering off the dark asphalt was deceptive. The dry air was light and inviting, enjoyable if not for the industrial smell clinging to it with determination.
He happened to glance up at the airport windows, blinded by the brilliant sun bouncing off. Through the glare he could see hundreds of people crowded to the glass, struggling to get a look at the lovely young couple descending to the tarmac where the senior members of the Lannister family awaited them.
It was easy to understand why the lion was their sigil. Besides the pride and vanity they failed to conceal, the twins embodied the animal. All golden curls and glowing green eyes scanning and assigning value to every object and person. And whereas Jaime glossed over Jon with apparent disinterest, Cersei's eyes raked over him like an appraiser's over a set of antique gems, hunting for details and flaws. Determining false from authentic. Not for the first time in his life did Jon wish he were invisible.
It was an event filled with icy exchanges and insinuations. From Tywin's calculated draw to Cersei's off-hand comment about Dany being territorial, Jon was relieved when they reached the final member of the house. Tyrion received endless praise during Dany's info dump on the flight, with her stating that he was the only Lannister she could stand. He exuded a different energy entirely from his self-obsessed siblings and his inquisitive mismatched eyes held humor and warmth, he held himself with confidence instead of stubborn pride.
He smirked when he saw Dany, stating, "When they told me you ran off and married a Northman, I thought, there goes the last bit of personality in this stuffy world of ours."
She laughed in reply, "Good thing you have plenty for both of us."
They were ushered into the stately town cars that would carry them to Casterly Rock, another not so subtle statement. The noise and excitement disappeared with the closing of the door, the faces and expressions hidden. They were carried out of Lannisport via a highway that expanded to fourteen lanes in places. The opposite side was crowded to a standstill but the royal escort cut through their side with ease. Jon glimpsed the shimmering waves of the Sunset Sea crashing against the shores alternating between soft sand and uneven rocks.
Their destination loomed above the modest two-lane road they exited onto. Casterly Rock was comparable to the Wall in size, crowned by the jagged ruins of an old keep. No doubt the Lannisters carved out their home in it, making it a true lion's den. Or lair rather.
Jon settled himself onto a gaudy settee to finish the last-minute revisions on the remarks he was expected to give at the gala in their honor. It was his third read through, not counting the four on the flight over when he was handed the sheets. His speech also marked the first time a Northern representative addressed a gathered party of Southern nobles, it needed to be impressive. He glanced up at Dany through the doorway into her room, where she held a piece of jewelry against the fabric of a dress.
There were three options, he noted. Bold blue, soft lilac, and something a few shades lighter than black. She sighed and let the purple fabric flutter from her hand, turning away and tossing the silvery bauble. It clinked as it landed against the other pieces she gathered there. Jon put his attention back into the sentence he'd been editing.
"Could you believe all those people were there to watch us get out of a plane?"
"They don't show up in numbers like that for you?"
"No, actually. Up until recently, the public couldn't make up their minds about me."
"Now they're stepping on each other to get a glimpse."
"Partially thanks to you, of course."
"What happened between you and Lady Lannister? She looked like she wanted to murder you."
Dany sighed, "She said some unfounded shit about me being territorial. So I told her we can't all have a twin to cling to when we're lonely. Cersei went through a nasty divorce a few years back, which I'm not faulting her for. Robert Baratheon is a serial adulterer and any sane woman would've left him a long time before she did. Now the only male company she keeps is her brother and practically smothers her children. I'm not proud of it but that's how you deal with the likes of Cersei Lannister."
She disappeared into the bedroom, allowing a moment of silence.
"How's the speech going? Perfected yet?" her voice called out, though he couldn't see her through the doorway.
"Could be better," he huffed, striking out another word and scribbling in a more suitable replacement.
"Make sure you don't kiss Tywin's ass too much, his ego's already over-inflated."
"Why don't you have to do one of these?"
She poked her head around the doorframe, half of her light hair now arranged in a halo of curlers. Jon chuckled at the ridiculous look of her, to which she rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm not the most important person there. And they've heard me speak before, probably want a breath of fresh air."
"Too bad this is the most generic speech they'll ever hear." Jon slapped the slim stack of papers down on the coffee table.
Dany swept forward and sifted through the sheets, taking in his notes and adjustments. Humming and nodding in approval like some eccentric teacher grading school work.
"No, this is really good. Very personable. Did you write this yourself?"
"Well, they give me the bare bones and I flesh them out."
"They'll love it." she offered the papers back but pulled them away before Jon could grab them. "But seriously, no gushing about what great hosts the Lannisters are, I don't think I could stand it."
He took them from her, "I'll make a note. You should wear the blue."
"Pardon?" she asked, turning to look at him.
"The gown. You look good in blue."
'Good' wasn't the right word. It failed to capture the extent of the notion. It seemed brutish and careless. He should've said 'pretty' or at the very least, 'nice'.
An amused smile graced her face, "Thank you."
"No problem," he offered with a stupid casualness, kicking himself as he took in the last paragraph of his absurd speech.
Jon remembered the charity gala in the Red Palace and feeling suffocated by the number of people and metallic decor. The gold-encrusted, overheated ballroom in Casterly Rock was that feeling tenfold, except it was easier to ignore the overwhelming sensation this time around. There was enough socialization to keep both Jon and Dany distracted. They split the room, working their way around but still managed to catch each other's eyes from time to time and share brief expressions about whoever they were talking to.
He gladly took his eyes off the lady he was talking with, a Westerling if he remembered correctly, to find Dany across the room. Her head tilted slightly with a bemused smile, bordered by a gilded mirror. Catelyn's tiara glittered atop her perfectly styled hair, tossing twinkles with effortless precision as she turned her head. Jon had seen it worn to a few functions before but it never looked so radiant as it did on Dany.
Catching his eye, she smiled and quickly said something to her conversation partner. Then Dany was making her way across the empty space that was meant for dancing. The deep blue fabric wrapped around her frame and draped over one shoulder recalling her outfit the night she accepted the marriage arrangement, crowned in simple flowers with firelight and distant sadness dancing in her eyes.
Now, she shone brighter than the oversized baubles adorning the other ladies and the countless incandescent bulbs providing over-saturated light now that the sun was gone.
"How are you fairing?" she asked.
"Pretty well, all things considered."
"Your speech was brilliant, everyone is talking about it. You know, it's a shame Tywin paid for these musicians and no one's dancing."
"Shall we show them how it's done?"
"Of course."
The music for that evening wasn't the Northern standard of reels but something smoother, jazzier; less string quartet and more subdued brass. A kind of tune meant for swaying, which is what they did, pressed close without a care in the world.
They were getting very good at pretending, so good that it was impossible to draw a line where the acting stopped and started. It was easier, now that relations between them were friendlier. They were able to smile and chatter and be in the same room together, the bare minimum requirements for acquaintanceship. But there was still so much they didn't know about each other, superficial details and hidden truths.
Dany spun away from him, the silk panels of her dress flaring and sweeping along the floor before she returned to him.
"Have I ever told you that you're the best dancing partner I've ever had?"
Jon considered the question before answering, "Once, but you could stand to mention it more."
The giggle that left her was surprisingly girlish, though he couldn't be sure if it was genuine or because she didn't want to laugh too loud. Dany didn't seem like the type to hold back just because she was in front of a few stuffy states people but he never knew what was going through her head from one moment to the next.
"Where'd you learn to dance anyway?"
"Private school, aside from the traditional ones, we had to learn standard ballroom steps. And I wanted to be better than Robb."
"I just had private lessons with a strict woman with an accent I couldn't understand. You can imagine how much I hated it."
"So you quit?"
"Naturally but I had other reasons than a shitty instructor."
She glanced over her shoulder as they passed where Jon had been standing moments earlier, clearly searching for something … or someone. The rogue thought crossed his mind when he saw his former conversation partner. Lady Westerling was pretty but she was so demure their conversation hadn't strayed past the climate habits and scenery of the North. And she looked too much like their Lannister hosts for Jon to feel at ease around her. But he remembered what Cersei said about Dany being territorial and he found that every snide remark had some truth behind it.
"Was there a reason you wanted to drag me out here? Besides having pity for the musicians."
She blinked at him, violet eyes wide under her full lashes, "No … why do you ask?"
"I was having a lovely conversation with Lady Westerling when you spotted us and came running over-"
She caught his sarcasm with a sly smile, "Are you insinuating I'm jealous of the Lady? You'll be disappointed to know that I'm not that insecure. And you're too smart to even entertain that idea."
Another couple had entered the floor and breezed past them causing a brief pause in their conversation so they could smile graciously. Once the other pair passed, Dany turned back to him.
"Cersei mentioned you were territorial. I wanted to see if there was any truth to it."
"It's true that I don't like to share but I would never stoop so low as to consider Jeyne Westerling a threat. Unlike someone we know." Dany nodded her head and Jon turned them so he could see where she motioned to.
Cersei, wearing her weight in emeralds and gold and green silk, threw a scalding glare at her brother who had struck up a conversation with the young lady in question.
"Green is certainly her color," Jon chuckled.
Other couples were following their lead and stepping onto the floor. Once it became too difficult to navigate, they left. Dany made a comment about their early morning press appointments, to which Jon agreed and they made their quiet exit.
Once in the significantly cooler hall, Dany removed her heels and dangled them by their straps. Her head rested against Jon's shoulder, he could feel the stiff points of her tiara through his suit jacket. Their hands were entwined and they walked in silence, comfortable and content.
Before, it had been unbearable. Every passing second needling him into annoyance at her refusal to play nice and throw down her sword for the sake of diplomacy. He was stubborn too, acting like he had a moral high ground when they were just two people in an unfortunate situation. The realization brought an evolution, both of them testing the waters to decide if they could make the best of what they'd been handed. A strange agreement grew into the very first signs of a friendship.
The sitting room was dark when they returned to it. Neither of them bothered to turn on a light, they were going to their own rooms anyway. They didn't untangle their hands, standing for a moment in the stillness of the room until Dany turned to him.
"I was thinking, this is technically a honeymoon, we have our evenings free. Would you like to take a drive up the coast? The sunsets are spectacular over the ocean."
He smiled at her, "I would love that."
"Great. I'll see you in the morning then," she replied.
Her response indicated that their conversation was over, yet they remained unmoved in the dark room, halfway to their separate quarters. The urge to stay and talk to each other hung heavy in the air. Every nerve in Jon's body pressed him to seize upon the opportunity but there was nothing left to say. Instead, they very stupidly exchanged good nights and disappeared behind their doors.
The next day brought an interview on a radio show, with two hosts who were over-eager to have them. The questions were polite and didn't require answers deeper than the surface. Which made it much easier to perform their roles of "royal couple playing tourists". Throughout the whole interview, Jon answered questions about how much he was enjoying the south and married life. He and Dany joked about the weather differences with Dany recounting the story about their snowy summer wedding.
It wasn't long before they were carted off to their next destination. One of the West's famous Lannister mines, owned by a proxy business of course and situated on the outskirts of Lannisport. The site functioned only for tourism, having run dry decades ago.
A guide towed them through miles of tunnels. At one point the path narrowed so much, the group was forced to talk single file. That far down, the tunnels were cooler offering a reprieve from the outer heat. Though it was as insufferable as he originally thought, Jon took comfort in the lower temperatures. Until it opened up into a natural cavern, the walls covered in simple drawings of animals and men, hand prints dotting the scenes.
"This is, of course, a recreation of similar caves in the area, believed to be frequented by the First Men before the Andal invasion. The original caves are off-limits to visitors to preserve their natural state," the guide informed them.
As part of the attraction, they were instructed to extinguish their lanterns. Jon knew what to expect, having experienced the same kind of total darkness from the walkways through the wall, where his body awoke deeply buried reactions. There was still the initial spook when his eyes couldn't focus but a new one surprised him when a chilled hand found his own and gripped it tightly. It broke their strict no public displays of affection rule.
The rules felt like some cruel joke. At Winterfell, their hands always found each other when they needed to. Jon and Dany turned into their own personal signal of support, of trust and understanding. And just when they reached that point, it was taken from them by outdated ideas about affection and professionalism. The lamps' glow returned and they released their hands, fingers lingering a beat longer than they should have.
They returned to Casterly rock when the sun was starting on its scheduled descent. Dany practically dragged Jon to the palace's garage, excited about their escape from their strict schedule. Her anticipation was contagious and Jon was ready to leave the Lannister den as soon as possible. The mechanical smell of the city still lingered, following them as it had their whole stay.
"Oh, shit, I have to run back to the guest rooms," she announced when they arrived, "I would say head in without me but I'm not sure which car they loaned us."
"Don't worry about it, Your Highness, I'll make sure your prince gets where he's going."
Dany sighed at the appearance of the youngest Lannister, "Tyrion, thank the gods. How many times must I ask you not to refer to me by that dreadful title?"
"It's a sign of respect. And I believe it's 'Your Royal Highness' now."
"Why bother with another word and more syllables when Dany works just fine?"
"Point made," he conceded.
Dany smiled at Tyrion, then Jon, "I'll be right back."
When she bounded away Tyrion noted, "I offered up my car for your little excursion. Come on."
Tyrion led him down the row of neatly parked vehicles, each more impressive than the last. All of them were custom models, recent too. However, the one designated for him and Dany was all the way at the end. A shining cherry-red to stand out amongst the other dark vehicles, with the distinct long line body of vintage cars. And, unsurprisingly, no top. The tan leather looked like it had never seen the sun.
"A gift from my father so I can't say he never did anything for me." Then he turned his mismatched eyes on Jon, "You're the first crowned prince I've actually taken a liking to."
Jon disguised his surprise at the abrupt change in topic with a chuff. His interactions with the self-proclaimed black sheep of the Lannister family were limited. "And why's that?"
"Well, from what I hear, you're not constantly talking about yourself. Though you could stand to do that a bit more. But I do have a soft spot for people like me."
Jon furrowed his brows. Unless Tyrion was blind as well, there was no evidence to support his claim. At his pause and confused face, Tyrion offered, "There's an old saying, 'all dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes'. And word travels fast around court."
Jon bristled. It wasn't a huge secret, a simple internet search would turn up hundreds of opinion pieces and state documents about his legitimization and the scandal it caused. And no doubt courtiers got curious and did their digging.
"Words hurt, that much we can agree on. But I've found it's much easier to accept what you are, rather than distance yourself so far it becomes an insult."
"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."
Tyrion's gaze shifted to look past Jon, he followed suit. Dany was back, her hair tucked under a fluttery scarf, a few strands escaping.
"You've got a precious gift in Daenerys."
"Aye, I'm grateful for her." The line was rehearsed but much easier to say.
"Good. Don't forget it."
"I won't. Is sharing wisdom about life all you do?"
"It's one of my many talents."
"You and Dany are close then?"
"She dislikes my father to say the least. But we share views on politics and religion and countless other subjects. And most importantly, she never forgets how human we are."
"Ready to go?" Dany chirped.
"You'll need these." Tyrion handed him a set of keys.
"I'm driving?"
"I figured you'd enjoy it more than whatever the hell I do."
Jon chuckled and spun the key ring around his finger.
"Thanks again Tyrion," she called from the passenger seat.
"Anything for my favorite royals."
Dany was right about the coast. It was beautiful and warm, delightfully open and a complete departure from their rich entrapment. Just having a steering wheel in his hands, with no destination or plan, was freeing; the impending, packed schedule of the rest of their trip carried away by the wind. Even with the security vehicle tailing them.
They found a little parking space on the side of the road, overlooking the rocky beach below. The sun hovered temptingly close to the wavering waters and washing everything in its extreme saturation. They stepped out of the car and Dany pointed to the way they had come.
"Look familiar?"
Casterly Rock towered over the horizon, bathed in the harsh sun. The flat face of the peak fell away into plateaued levels. The resemblance was uncanny, a regal lion overlooking an aquatic domain.
"Thousands of years ago, before my ancestors even dreamed of Westeros, Lann the Clever tricked his way into the Rock and never gave it up."
"So he took the lion for his sigil and gave birth to the least favorite house of a princess in the far off future."
"I doubt Lann was thinking that far into the future but I wouldn't be surprised if there was a prophecy or something."
"There's always one of those," Jon commented.
The sun inched further down in the ombre sky, its burning surface kissing the reflective waters.. A twin disk burning equally as bright. Crashing waves sounded below and somewhere above a seagull called.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Jon hummed in agreement, casting a side glance at his wife. Her side profile received the same treatment as their surroundings, skin and hair aflame as they leaned against the hood of Tyrion's car. When they first met, Dany was frigid, devoid of the things that comprised a friendly person. But those traits were simply hidden beneath the surface in a stone chest and it took very special circumstances to draw them out.
She moved and the rectangular shape of her phone appeared, aimed at him.
"What are you doing?"
"I want a picture."
"Of me? What brought this on?"
"When I had my meeting with your father, I noticed all the photos on his desk. They were just silly, candid things. We don't have pictures like that in my family but I want there to be and I thought now would be a good time to start." Dany paused with a thoughtful smile. "He told me his favorite was one of you. He's incredibly proud."
"All fathers are like that with their children," Jon shrugged.
"They should be, shouldn't they," Dany agreed with a certain wistfulness in her voice.
"I take it you didn't get the same?"
"Doesn't mean I didn't try."
"Good thing there's plenty of that with the Starks," he smiled.
His fingers found hers, his hand taking up hers. Dany scooted closer to rest her head against his shoulder and Jon tipped his to hers. They stayed like that as the sun slipped under the restless horizon.
