Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.
Jon VI
Jon sat up and opened the curtains. He felt movement on the bed and turned his head to look at Sansa. She was curled up in a ball and although she was trying to hide it, he knew she was crying. Guilt washed all over him. He should have suggested they pretend. Maybe if he'd been firmer with the septon he could have had the witnesses outside and relieved himself on the bed with the curtains closed while Sansa was waiting behind the screen or by the fire. It would have been embarrassing, but at least she wouldn't have had to endure having a man touch her. The fact he'd taken pleasure from the act made him even more disgusted with himself. The anger he felt was comparable to what he felt when he finally got his hands on the bastard, who he almost beat to death if it hadn't been for Sansa stopping him. This time he had to gather himself and at least try to be as polite as possible, although he was going to struggle, especially if this entire incident was caused by Tyrion Lannister.
Jon ushered the four men over and showed them the wet mark on the bed where he had spilled his seed only a few minutes earlier. The septon, Maester Wolkan and Tyrion all checked the mark while Jon stared at Tormund who simply glanced over at Tyrion and nodded his head. Jon knew Tormund had witnessed enough to suspect Tyrion was the one who had instigated the bedding, not the septon. Jon was even more incensed than before.
"There's your proof. I hope your happy. Now fuck off and leave me and my wife alone with some actual privacy. It's been a long day." he shouted as they filed out of the door, with just a brief nod and he just about managed a smile of appreciation towards Tormund.
They all bid him goodnight and left the room. Jon slammed the door behind them and bolted it shut. He turned to talk to Sansa but she quickly got out of the bed through the opposite side and fled over to the changing screen, clearly trying to hide the tears.
"I just need to wash myself." she said, although he suspected it was an excuse.
Jon climbed back into bed and pulled the sheets over him, waiting for her to return. The woman who came back was the one he recognised to be Queen Sansa, the one who hid her emotions behind duty and putting others first. His heart sank. Arya killed and stole faces to use as masks, Sansa wore her queenly face as a mask and was just as deceptive. But regardless, they needed to talk about it. If they didn't it would be hard for them to work together and he knew over the next few days and possibly weeks, they were going to be a strong team, they had no choice in the matter. Talking was going to be hard, especially for Jon who wasn't the greatest of orators, but not talking would be even harder. Sansa climbed back into bed and turned her back to him, the queenly demeanour gone and the little girl he once knew was back.
"Sansa." Jon said in the softest voice he could. "We need to talk about this."
"No we don't." Sansa swallowed, he could tell she was struggling to hold back the tears.
"Did I hurt you? I tried my best not to." Jon was desperate at this point, he needed to know she didn't hate him.
"You didn't hurt me." Sansa told him.
"Look me in the eyes and tell me that." Jon begged. "I need to know it's true. I can't live with myself if..." Sansa turned to face him, her eyes red rimmed. "I'm sorry. I should have stopped it. There were ways..." he shook his head in dismay.
"Shh." Sansa shook her head and smiled. "You didn't hurt me. It was nice."
Jon frowned. "So why are you crying?" he asked confused. He had come to realise he would never fully understand women, and right now he was baffled by her reaction.
"It was because it was nice I was crying. It made me realise how much was taken from me. My innocence, mother, father, Robb, Rickon." the tears flowed freely. "And then you'll leave and go off with the freefolk. I had a tiny moment of normality, what everyone else in life gets to enjoy."
"Except four people just happened to be listening in." Jon corrected her, making her laugh.
"It was a small price to pay." she laughed back. Jon pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her. He now understood what her problem was, she was lonely and he suspected she was hinting she wanted to do it again, but she didn't want to ask. "Was it alright for you?" she asked nervously.
Jon shrugged. "It wasn't bad. But having four people listening in was a bit distracting. I couldn't do what I'd normally do." he sighed, deciding to tease her.
"What you'd normally do?" Sansa sounded confused.
Jon shrugged and shook his head. "Plus I couldn't see your face when you..." he stopped when he saw Sansa blush, then he smiled and stroked her hair. "I'd have like to have kissed you in other places... but never mind." he sighed.
"Would I have liked that?" Sansa asked in a whisper.
Jon chuckled. "Aye I suspect you would've liked it a lot, not sure you'd ave let me do it though."
"Why not?" Sansa frowned.
"It would've been too much too soon. It would've scared you, especially as you couldn't see what I was doin." Jon explained, trying to stifle a yawn.
"Are you tired?" Sansa frowned.
Jon nodded truthfully. "I've just spent the last two and a half weeks on dragonback and sleeping on hard rocks. Within six hours of coming home, I've ended up wedded and bedded. I'm absolutely knackered."
Sansa giggled. "I think you ought to get some rest in a nice comfortable bed."
Jon pulled the furs over him and faced her. "I'm in a nice comfortable bed."
"I'll leave you to rest." Sansa tried to get up but Jon stopped her.
"Wait Sansa, I won't force you to stay if you don't want to, but I'd like it if you did." he pleaded.
Sansa blushed. "I'd like that too, I just didn't think you would." she settled down next to him.
"Why not?" Jon frowned, trying to stifle another yawn.
"Because we didn't plan on sharing a bed at all." Sansa sighed.
"That was before we had to and the ice was broken." Jon wrapped his arm around Sansa and snuggled into her sleepily.
"Or in my case melted by a dragon." Sansa giggled. "Hmm...I wonder what songs they'll write about us, the Queen in the north and the King beyond the wall?" she said thoughtfully.
Jon's eyes were beginning to droop. "Who knows. A song of ice and fire I suppose." he murmured.
"I like that." Sansa whispered. "Goodnight Jon."
"Goodnight Sansa." Jon's reply was the last thing he remembered before he fell into the soundest sleep he'd had since before he went to the wall.
When he woke the next morning, he felt the other side of the bed for Sansa, but it was empty and cold, she must have been gone at least an hour he thought. The fire was burning nicely in the hearth, a table and chair next to it, on the table was some bread, cheese and what looked like cold bacon. He could also see a mug of what he presumed was weak ale which was the usual breakfast drink in Winterfell. Knowing Sansa had given the castle staff the morning off, he knew she must have done this herself which made him smile. He took a piss in the chamberpot before settling down to eat, realising he was starving. He was surprised by the amount of noise outside considering Sansa's instructions from the previous evening. He went over to the window and looked outside to see men in the yard training. The horses were being mucked out. In the distance the gardeners was tending to the vegetables, which then made Jon wonder how long he'd been asleep. Deciding to get dressed, he found clean clothes had been laid out on a stool behind the screen and the ones he'd worn the previous day had been taken, most likely by Sansa, he suspected, who was probably inspecting the stitching right now and looking to copy some of the styles, which made him chuckle to himself, if only life could be so simple.
Half an hour later, Jon was dressed, fed and looking for Sansa. He'd stopped in on Horan who was being watched by Magatha. She reported Horan had successfully warged into Ghost and was last seen thirty miles from Winterfell heading north, which was fine by Jon. Eventually, Jon found Sansa in her solar with Maester Wolkan, who left as soon as Jon arrived.
"Did I say something?" Jon frowned, sitting on the edge of her desk looking down at her.
Sansa smiled and shook her head. "We decided to inspect the grain stocks and accounts until you arrived. He's gone to find Tyrion, we need to talk to him."
"I'm sure it was him who set us up." Jon sighed.
"I'm sure it was him too, but that's not what we need to talk about. There's a possible siege about to descend on Winterfell. We need to know what he knows." Sansa insisted.
"You really think he's going to tell us?" Jon asked. "He's already messed up by insisting on us having the bedding ceremony. Bran's not going to be happy with him. Now there's no chance of us ever annulling the marriage, not that I'd want to." he added with a smile.
Sansa blushed a little. "Maybe we can get him to side with us against Bran."
"I don't trust him. Tyrion Lannister serves Tyrion Lannister and only Tyrion Lannister." Jon shook his head.
"Then we need to give him something he would want, something he doesn't have and can't get anywhere else." Sansa placed her hand on Jon's. We should never trust him, but as long as we can keep an eye on him."
"He needs to be here during the siege." Jon sighed.
"If Bran is Bloodraven, he won't care if Tyrion lives or dies. But Tyrion needs to feel threatened by Bran." Sansa agreed. "Tyrion works best when he has to save his own skin. As long as it is mutually beneficial, we can trust him...a little."
"You say we need to offer him something to make sure he wants to stay? What do you think he would find enticing?" Jon asked.
"Knowledge." Sansa suggested. "He likes to know things, new things."
Jon smiled."I've got something for him which might serve us both."
A knock on the door alerted them to Tyrion's arrival, Jon sat in a newly placed chair next to Sansa's. "Come in." Sansa called as Tyrion opened the door and walked in. "You can sit." she told him.
"Your Grace, Your Grace." he said bowing his head to Sansa first then to Jon, before taking the seat on the opposite side of the desk. "How can I help?" he asked.
"How good is your High Valyrian?" Jon asked, deciding to kick the meeting off with a positive start.
Tyrion frowned. "It's passable a suppose. Den... well...erm, she used to mock my pronunciation of certain words, she said they lost their meaning. Why?"
"I want to have better control over Drogon during flight, which means I need to improve my limited High Valyrian vocabulary." Jon shrugged. "The sooner I have better control over him, the less damage he can do." he added, "But if your pronunciation is poor... then I don't want to be responsible for giving a command which could be misunderstood by the dragon and end up killing thousands of people." Jon conveniently forgot to tell Tyrion his only issue was directional commands with flying, the rest he and Drogon had seemed to come to an understanding.
"Dragon's can never be fully controlled." Tyrion warned him. "Anyone who thinks they can is a fool. They have their own minds, some believe they are far more intelligent than us."
"I agree with you Lord Tyrion." Jon nodded. "I'm just worried when he sees enemies approaching, ones who might want to hurt me or Sansa... well he might not be happy about it and take matters into his own claws." he sighed.
"What enemies?" Tyrion frowned.
"You don't know?" Sansa looked at Tyrion and then to Jon with confusion on her face. "I'd have thought Bran would have told you, I mean he is all seeing and knowing. I am frankly surprised he even let you come here knowing what was happening."
Tyrion looked uncomfortable. "Bran hasn't told me anything."
"So you know nothing about me being blocked from travelling south?" Jon asked. "I only came to Winterfell because there were ships with scorpions taking aim at Drogon. When I got north, a fleet of ships with the Targaryen sigil had landed at white harbour. Nothing to do with me, so who could it be?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Unsullied." Tyrion's voice dropped. "Why are they here? How did they get there so quickly? It takes weeks to raise an army." he frowned.
"Didn't Bran raise them?" Sansa ask.
Tyrion laughed. "Not to my knowledge. Anyway, the Unsullied work for the Iron Bank, Bran can't afford to be hiring an army." he shook his head. "Do you think they are likely to attack?"
"Bran sent me a coded warning, he told me to stockpile." Sansa said truthfully.
"How?" Tyrion frowned. "He can't see into the future anymore?"
"Is that what he told you?" Sansa asked.
"He said..." Tyrion started.
"He lied." Sansa said bluntly. "I wouldn't have known to stock up on grain if Bran couldn't see the future. Unless he is the one who set this up."
"I don't think he'd do that, maybe I'm wrong." Tyrion shook his head in confusion.
"What? Lie to you telling you his visions are blocked, or setting up a siege on Winterfell while you are here. It has to be one or the other."
"I...I don't know." Tyrion looked confused. "He doesn't tell me everything." he admitted.
"I think asking the Unsullied to go to war with his sister is a big fucking thing to forget to tell you don't you think?" Jon was beginning to get frustrated with Tyrion while Sansa stared at her ex husband carefully.
"He only tells me what I need to know regarding appointments. I don't get to make decisions, there are no interesting political games to master. Kings Landing is frankly boring these days." he sighed.
"Why? What is going on down there?" Sansa frowned.
"I spent most of my time begging Bronn for money to fund the rebuild of the Red Keep. He kept telling me to reuse whatever I could. I would complain to Bran but I never heard anything more of it until I asked Bronn again who told me no. So I began to search the ruins myself, to see if I could find something to help finance some of the rebuild, or even find some old furnishings which might be suitable to use in the new state rooms."
"Get to the point?" Jon sighed, unsure what this had to do with Tyrion being in Winterfell.
"I found the rest of Aegon the Conquerors swords and the original iron throne." Tyrion shook his head.
"And?" Sansa looked at Tyrion confused.
"Think about it Sansa. Do you think Bran trusts me?" Tyrion asked.
"He'd be a fool if he did." Sansa raised an eyebrow and then looked at Tyrion and nodded.
"What?" Jon looked at them both.
"The iron throne was said to be forged from a thousand swords, but Littlefinger said he counted and there were less than two hundred." Sansa explained.
"The original iron throne probably does have a thousand swords." Tyrion nodded. "But it is a huge beast of a chair and I suspect a smaller more comfortable version was made. Many kings reported it cut them. Unfortunately my repulsive nephew wasn't one of them. Might have taught him a few lessons if it had. However that particular throne Joffrey sat on was not the original one. It is hidden under the Red Keep in Kings Landing." Tyrion told them.
"Are you saying Drogon didn't destroy the iron throne?" Jon asked.
"I'm saying Drogon destroyed the current iron throne, not the original. I was going to place the old one in the Great Hall, but Bran said he wasn't keen on the idea. The next morning I got the annulment through and he sent me here." Tyrion explained. "I've been kept out of pretty much every major decision. He seems to reach out to Bronn instead." he shrugged.
"I can't imagine Bronn being the sort of person my brother would trust to help him make decisions." Sansa shook her head.
"Is Lord Tyrion any better?" Jon asked, causing Sansa to smile.
"He rushed Grand Maester Tarly's Maester qualifications through. Samwell qualified years ahead of his training. Lord Seaworth is constantly out at sea, trying to rebuild a fleet on pennies. Bran said the people love him being their King, but from what I hear on the ground he is despised." Tyrion told them.
"Why are you telling us this?" Sansa asked.
"Because I believe my old sellsword might be influencing the King into business ventures which are not right for the realm." Tyrion said.
Sansa and Jon looked at each other and laughed. "My Lord Hand, the King is no fool..."
"I beg your pardon Your Grace, but he is so very young and he lacks experience." Tyrion insisted.
"He is far more clever than you are." Sansa smiled. "He sent you here for a reason. Jon was forced into coming here, as were you. Whatever you were both doing, Bran needed to stop you. He sent you both here and is about to put us all under siege. What were you about to discover which would concern him?" she asked.
"Money, he needs money, that would be my first guess." Tyrion said. "Westeros is bankrupt. My sister made sure of that. Now you see why making Bronn Master of Coin was a strange appointment? He had no experience whatsoever."
"He's setting him up to fail." Jon put his hand in his head. "What could we have been about to find which is so valuable?" he asked.
"There are rumours of a prophecy." Tyrion sighed. "Nobody knows the exact details, only that it came from Aegon the Conqueror himself and was handed down to each of the Targaryen heirs to the iron throne. There have been rumours for some time that the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen lives and his name is Aegon. If it is discovered he rides a dragon and that the original iron throne still sits in the Red Keep, then the people may revolt against Bran and try to replace him with you." Tyrion explained. "Although I suspect the dragon rumours may well be spreading right now around Westeros like wildfire, especially since Drogon left Dragonstone."
"And returned and left, but this time with a rider." Jon reminded him. "I found some very interesting things on Dragonstone. But what I don't understand is why he'd want me here. I was going to Old Valyria, I would've been out of the way, no threat at all."
"On the contrary. Your legend would grow. The story of your sister killing the Night King would have been changed, it would be your name uttered instead. You killing the mad Dragon Queen and saving Kings Landing. Your tale would become that of a mythological figure and whether you are in Westeros or Old Valyria, people would search for you. War and revolution in Westeros would ensue. If there is no alternative to Bran, only then can there is peace." Tyrion explained. "But while you live..."
"Bran wants me dead." Jon said bluntly.
"I suspect he does." Tyrion agreed.
"My brother would never want that." Sansa shook her head.
"A King often forgets the love they have for their family when their power is at risk. Have you not read the histories of Westeros Your Grace?" he asked Sansa.
"Of course I have." Sansa snapped. "Bran isn't like those people. The boy I knew..."
"Is now a man who has lived very different life to you. His outlook is very much changed over the years. Killing a family member or someone you love isn't easy, I should know." Tyrion glanced sideways at Jon, making him feel uncomfortable in the knowledge he'd done the same. "But sometimes it is a necessary evil. Wouldn't you agree Your Grace." he smiled at Jon who was beginning to get angry. "Although I do confess, if he has indeed asked for the help of the Unsullied, there must be more to it than I know. He wouldn't risk Jon destroying the Unsullied with Drogon."
"Bran knows Jon wouldn't do that." Sansa frowned.
"Does he?" Tyrion asked. "Because the legends tell us, when a rider bonds with their dragon, they take on some of the personality traits of the dragon, and the dragon becomes more like their rider. One bad day and whole cities can be burned down. I'm sure you both agree Drogon has shown he is quite capable of destroying cities."
"Why doesn't Bran just kill Drogon instead?" Sansa asked.
"Because a dragon is valuable, especially if you can bond with one, or even warg into one." Tyrion warned them.
"You are being too helpful." Jon looked at Tyrion suspiciously.
"I am being too honest." Tyrion agreed. "Despite you knowing more than me, you are still asking me questions. Why? I can't tell you anything you aren't already aware of or can deduce, you are both smart people. What do you want from me? Am I to be held hostage?" he asked.
"I think both you and I know that would be pointless." Jon said. "If Bran is prepared to have me killed, I doubt you are of much value to him, if of course what you say is true. However, I do feel I need some lessons in High Valyrian. But I have something for you in return, something I doubt you can refuse."
"What's that?" Tyrion raised an eyebrow.
"Books and diaries from the past." Jon replied.
"Why would I care?" Tyrion laughed. "There's probably copies of them in the Citadel. I just have to as Maester Tarly."
"First hand accounts of the Dance?" Jon offered. "They were from a hidden library on Dragonstone. I believe they may have belonged to Maester Gerardys. I wonder if Bran wanted to keep me away from finding out secrets on Dragonstone." he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure there are undiscovered secrets from the Targaryens of the past." Tyrion fidgeted, the conflict in his eyes was for all to see.
"It is a one time offer." Sansa told him. "Otherwise it will be Jon and myself who will go through the information Jon found."
"And I'm the only one who knows where to find that secret library. I am beginning to wonder what other secrets are there to be unearthed, something valuable. Dragon eggs?" he suggested. "Although they're not much good without Targaryens to hatch them. Or maybe there are some in Old Valyria. Is Bran looking for dragon eggs to give to the iron bank in payment?" he asked.
"I...I don't know." Tyrion shook his head. "But, I admit, you do have my interest. Where are these books." he asked.
"Locked away." Jon told him. "But I can't let you have them right now, Sansa and I have got work to do. So if you don't mind Lord Tyrion, we will discuss the rest of the matter later." he said.
Tyrion nodded. "Your Graces." and left the room.
"I'm trying my best not to kill him. I've beheaded people for less." Jon growled.
Sansa stroked his arm affectionately. "While Tyrion Lannister is useful, we keep him alive. He's better off alive than dead right now."
Jon nodded, unconvinced. "Drogon's not far."
"How do you know?" Sansa asked.
"I can...feel him. He's been out to sea, feeding. He's developed a taste for seals and whales. If he's eaten enough he might not need to feed for a few days." Jon explained.
Sansa looked stunned. "Don't tell Tyrion how close the bond is. He might use it against you."
"I know." Jon agreed and smiled. "Do you fancy riding a dragon?" he asked. "I believe we need to call the banners."
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