Jon
It was a full day before the fires on the battlefield and in the city finally died and the ashes to stop falling with the snow. By dawn of the next day, the clouds were gone and the warmth of the sun bathed the city and all those who were under it.
King's Landing had finally grown quiet. The riots that began during the battle would have gotten out of hand had the Unsullied and many of the City Watch not taken control and calmed the populace down.
The people were still furious at the conditions they unknowingly lived and the inhumane things Cersei did to them. And they were starving when the Targaryen host had no provisions to spare. Luckily, there were many alternatives. The Dothraki introduced butchered horse and there were a great many from the battlefield. Add to that, many of the elephants that fell were slaughtered and cooked as well to be fed to the people and the dragons. It was better than being cannibals. Rations were distributed and all started to calm down.
Though for Jon, things were still a mess. When he saw the Red Keep go up in flames, he took as many men as he could and made for the castle as fast as possible. He made it halfway before he witnessed the remainder of the castle that hadn't been destroyed in wildfire crumble and collapse into the sea. But he was relieved when he found Arya, Jaime, and Brienne walking away from it all. Arya sustained a broken arm, Brienne a broken leg, while Jaime only had a few large bruises. But the Hound was not with them. Arya informed him that he had been crushed by the castle saving her. And thus, House Clegane was no more.
Jaime had been the one to tell them all that before the castle fell, the Iron Throne was destroyed. Cracked, bent, and torn apart by falling rubble. Fishing its remains from the sea would prove too difficult for any man to do. Though for Jon, it didn't matter. All that he understood was that an iron chair of swords was no more.
Jon had the survivors given the highest accommodations in the camps to heal. He had his arm taken care of but that was all he truly needed. Arya rested while Gendry kept a vigil watch over her. Surprisingly, Brienne and Jaime decided to share a tent. By the morning, they were found sharing a bed.
There was so much to do still. With Cersei dead and the city taken, House Targaryen once again ruled over Westeros. It would be at least a few months before it could be considered official. The city had to be restored and a place to rule had to be built. But that could be dealt with later. Jon had to see to more important matters.
The surviving sellsword companies were allowed to gather their dead and ordered to dispose of the bodies properly. Many were wiped out while others had less than a few hundred members left. They weren't very respecting of their dead, however. No pyres were made nor were any graves dug. The bodies were simply stripped of their valuables and piled up before burned.
Jon wouldn't have that for those that fought for him. He didn't shy from making arrangements with many to have bodies returned to their homelands for burial and pyres made for those that wanted that.
Right now, he was as he stood with Daenerys over two in particular that were resting on wooden tables in the cover of the tent's canopy. She was leaning over Ser Jorah's lifeless body, tear-filled and grieving. She insisted on spending just a few moments more before his body was to be taken to Bear Island and buried.
Across from her, Jon walked over and caressed the white fur of his dearest friend. Ghost's fur was cleaned of blood and his eyes were gently closed. His direwolf's body would be taken back to Winterfell and buried in the godswood with Shaggydog and Lady's remains. "I'm gonna miss you, boy." He whispered with one last brush of his hand through Ghost's mane. He walked over behind Daenerys and laid his hand on her shoulder. "It's time." She nodded slightly before laying a light kiss on Ser Jorah's forehead.
When they took their leave of the tent, a group of Northmen went in to prepare both of the bodies for transport back home.
"Are you going to be alright?" Jon asked as he walked arm in arm with his wife.
"I will be," Dany replied. She didn't look it though. She hadn't slept the night before and didn't eat anything. But then again, neither did Jon. He couldn't find rest yet. The battle had been won, the city saved, justice was brought to Cersei. So why did it feel like it wasn't much of a victory?
The answer was in the form of the greatest cries ever heard by any listening ears, the cries of a dragon suffering in great pain.
Lyarras had survived the bolt she took and the landing. Jon was with her the entire time that it was taken out and her wounds being treated as best they could. He sang to her many times to soothe the hurts of her injuries. But it wasn't her pain that was greatest.
Rhaegal was barely breathing when Jon returned to him after the battle. The mighty dragon had lost so much blood and couldn't move. He was struck four times, but only two bolts pierced his hide. When anyone tried to approach to tend to him, Rhaegal growled and let out small puffs of flame to fend off anyone who dared come near. It appeared mild and ignorable except that it was coming from a dragon of great size. Not only that, but the maesters and healers had no equipment for a creature that had been extinct for the last century and a half.
The task fell into the hands of the giants to save the dragon. Through translated directions by one of the wildlings, the giants barely understood what to do. It took four of them to restrain Rhaegal when two others pulled out the bolts and use whatever cloth they could salvage for bindings. In the end, they had to use an entire tent to press down on the bleeding and some stolen curtain from a noble's manse in the city to wrap the wounds.
Jon and Daenerys came to where both Rhaegal and Lyarras were resting and recovering. There were no tents nearby for obvious reasons but many people, including two giants, were caring for the dragons as best they could. Jon had to warg into both of them to allow people to get close every once and awhile, but once the dragons realized that the people were meant to help, they stopped trying to attack the help.
The leading maester, a man named Althor, saw and came to the King and Queen with his diagnosis. He was heavily chained in healing links and wildlife study, making him the best one available qualified for this task.
Dany went ahead of Jon to meet the maester. "Will my child live?"
The maester nodded lightly, but his face revealed that there was more to it and it wasn't good. "We've done what we can, but many of the dragon's internal organs were torn when the bolts pierced through. And the bones of the left shoulder are fractured. Should it live, I'm very certain that your dragon will never be fit to fly again."
The news was hard to bear. A dragon that could not fly was a terrible thing. The price for the throne was becoming too much.
"Have him transported to Dragonpit when all is clear to do so," Jon commanded. "Do everything you can." He grabbed Dany's hand and she held his tightly. "Please."
"We are working as diligently as we are, your grace. But we shall double our efforts to save your dragon." He returned to his work with the other maesters.
"He will live," Jon told Daenerys with absolute faith. "I know he will."
"I believe you," Dany replied. "But without flight, he will be a prisoner to the world. The sky is their kingdom. And now I am told he may not be able to enter ever again." She gave one last look to the dragons before leaving with Jon. It was time for their meeting with Tyrion and the others.
It took some time to walk from the sick ward of the camp to the command tent. Jon let Dany into the tent first before he entered himself. Inside was a large table with a map of the city nearly covering it from corner to corner. Gathered around it was Tyrion, Lord Jaime, Arya, and Bran. Arya had her arm in a sling while Jaime did nothing to hide his wounds. His face was riddled with purple bruises.
"Your Graces," Tyrion greeted with a curt nod of his head. "I trust that the maester's had pleasing news about your dragons?"
"Unfortunately, it was too grim to call it pleasing," Jon informed. "Lyarras will be fine in a few moonturns. Rhaegal… he might not ever fly again." Saying it was definitely a mood killer. Everyone had a slight drop in their heads upon hearing such news.
"I have not a single doubt the maesters will do everything they can to restore your dragon to his former strength," Tyrion said with some flickers of hope in his tone. "I understand that in Volantis there is a guild that focuses on the studies and excavations of Valyria. I would bet all my remaining gold that they have ancient knowledge on the biology of dragons in their archives."
Jaime chuckled lightly at that. "Considering we hardly have any gold left, it's all or nothing."
"Still," Arya said, "it wouldn't hurt to reach out to them."
"Agreed," Daenerys said. "I want a message drawn up requesting aid and sent out by tonight."
"It will be done, your grace," Tyrion said. "For now though, I believe it will be best for us to focus on the mess before us." He moved over to a wooden token on the map where the Red Keep is, or where it remains are, and removed it. "Thanks to the efforts and sacrifices of the turncloaks from the Golden Company, only the Red Keep suffered destruction. Structurally, it will be impossible to rebuild where the castle stood."
"So we cannot rebuild on Aegon's Hill?" Daenerys asked.
"Calling it a hill is too generous a term," Bran said. "Anything larger than a small tower and grounds beneath would cave in."
"There is still Dragonstone," Arya added.
"It will not suit for a royal seat being off the mainland " Tyrion argued. "As things are, the throne is without a castle to rule from."
Jon scratched the beard on his chin as he thought about that. While it sounded a bit too grand to say they needed a big castle, there was practicality given that it would be a royal seat.
"What about Harrenhal." Arya objected. "Didn't Edmure offer it as a new castle for House Targaryen?"
"It was certainly the most expensive wedding gift that night," Bran commented. "And it's still the mightiest castle in Westeros."
"I have not forgotten about that," Tyrion said. "Despite the generous offer, I believe it must be turned down. Wherever the King and Queen are, the country shall be governed. And to have such a place be changed from the very kingdom named and sworn directly for them would be a great insult. Harrenhal is worthy of a King and Queen, yes, but it is not what it needs."
"Well until Jon and Dany have a castle here, Harrenhal sounds like our best choice."
"It could be temporary," Dany said. "Aegon's Hill can no longer support a castle just as Visenya's Hill can't be rebuilt upon where the Great Sept once stood either. But the Dragonpit has only suffered from time and lack of care. The foundations are strong and the lands around are merely trees before any form of housing. We'll raise a new castle there in its place."
There was a shared silence, as if someone was waiting for an objection or another idea to be made, but there was none. "That sounds perfect." Tyrion agreed with a hint of excitement in his voice. "The place where the dragons of old fell will be the place where the dragons of today will rise."
Jon had a flare of inspiration. "Dragonrise… yes, that's what we'll call it." A name like Winterfell that felt strong and at the same time calm. "So where do we start? I've never built a castle before."
"We start by spreading the word," Tyrion said. "A challenge for the wisest of architects. To design a castle that will be immortal throughout history for the King and Queen of Westeros."
"As long as the costs aren't as bankrupting as Robert Baratheon was." Dany said. "While I'm certain you would enjoy the task of overseeing such a project, the city comes first."
Tyrion nodded. "Yes, your grace. Given that I've lived in the city for quite a few years, I would suggest myself for overseeing the revival of King's Landing. I've already an early morning wandering and looking where things are most damaged. I've drawn up a few plans to improve the infrastructure-"
"What about the people?" Jon interrupted.
Tyrion grimaced at the mention of that. "In truth, their condition is all a matter of perspective. We are providing food and warmth, but the city is still a pit of vipers. Only now they aren't so hesitant to destroy each other to get out."
Dany shook her head. "Then we'll go there ourselves and oversee things. Though the fighting is over, the battle against winter is still being fought."
"But, tomorrow is the day you and the King present yourselves to your subjects. Though you were both coronated in Winterfell, tradition would have it more publicly in a major city rather than just a castle. I'm not saying that we must repeat the process, but a public appearance to the people would help. They are still in a state of confusion. When they are not asking where to get food, they are wondering who was it who defeated the Mad Queen? Who is it who commanded dragons, giants, and men outside the city? Tomorrow, you will both present yourselves at the steps of the Red Keep to the people and let them see that the true King and Queen have returned."
"And we will." Jon agreed. "But first we'll see to it that they all can live long enough to be there for it. Once the people aren't starving and shivering, then we can worry heavily on things like formalities and courtesies of the court."
Tyrion sighed at both of them. "In that case, you'll want to head to the Street of Steel. We found an unused shop there to use as a temporary base of operations. I'll let those running it know that you'll be arriving in the morning."
"I will," Dany said, "but Jon, you have other business to see to first. Theon will be departing with his people early tomorrow and you need to be there to see him off."
"I'll be coming as well," Arya informed. "There's a shipment of grain and livestock Sansa purchased from the Stormlands. I figured I'd coax Theon into a favor as help get it where it belongs. And since it's going North, we figured we go to make sure it gets there." Perfect excuse to have a few more days back home.
"He's not our father's ward anymore, he's King of Iron Islands."
"I know, I wasn't planning on giving him any snide remarks… at least not many." Arya said, the ghost of a grin on her lips. "Regardless, I'm going to Winterfell. I want to see our family. Sansa and Rickon deserve that much, Sansa, especially."
"She'd want us to come home anyways," Bran said, "she's going to tell us about her child." Bran suddenly looked like he just realized what he just said. His eyes were as open as they could be and his mouth was gaping.
"Child? What child?" Jon inquired.
Dany cleared her throat. "She's pregnant." She shifted nervously as eyes fell on either her or Bran.
"You knew?" Jon asked her.
"She told me the night I left," Dany confessed.
"And Edric Dayne is the father," Bran informed with a blank expression on his face as if he'd gone back being nothing but the Three-Eyed Raven again. "Word is already spreading throughout the North. Lady Stark carries the bastard of a fallen star."
Jon ran his hands through his hair. This was quite a shock to him and everyone else. "This is…"
"What? This is what?" Arya asked before looking to Bran. "Did Dayne take advantage of her, was it rape?"
"No!" Bran was about to say more, but a sudden look of disgust came upon him. He shook his head while groaning.
"What's wrong?"
"Sometimes I hate being all-seeing. Sansa… it happened willingly, trust me." A shared look of sympathetic disgust washed over everyone knowing full well what he probably just witnessed. "She's alright with it though. Eager, even. It was a mistake but she plans to see it through. It what she wants."
"I won't question if it's something she wants," Tyrion said, "but it will cause quite some problems for her. The North may be not Dorne, but there are still ill feelings towards ba-" He saw a look in Jon's eyes. "-those born out of wedlock. Many will still call her a whore or seductress of a freshly widowed lord."
Jaime chuckled at his brother. "For a former husband of Sansa Stark, you certainly underestimate her stature. Since when does a direwolf concern herself with the opinions of the sheep?" He looked over to Arya. "I would ask to give her my regards, but I feel they'll be unwanted."
"No argument there." Arya agreed. "We shouldn't be discussing this anyways, not when Sansa isn't here to speak for herself. You can hear it from her when you go home too." She told Jon. "You are coming with me, aren't you? For your children at least?"
"Of course," Jon hastily replied. "We just have to take care of some things here first. When will you be leaving?"
"In two days. We would leave tomorrow but… there's something I have to go do first." She sounded rather somber about that last bit. It obviously meant that she wanted some privacy.
Things concluded rather quickly afterward. Tyrion had everything handled and it was getting late anyways. They dispersed for the evening. Arya to go be with Gendry, Bran to go be with… whoever he wanted to, Tyrion went to go find Bronn, Podrick, and some wine, and Jaime decided to return to Ser Brienne's company.
Jon stood on the hillside that overlooked the city. From a distance, it was hard to tell how much lingered in the city. Tomorrow he would see it all up close. He just wasn't sure if he was ready for it on such a great scale.
Daenerys came from behind him and looked outwards as well. "I never liked your brooding face," Dany admitted which gave Jon a little chuckle. "You look like your carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and yours alone. Although to hear Ser Jaime tell it, it's when you most resemble Rhaegar."
He shrugged at her. "I guess now it's the weight of a crown. It feels a lot heavier. All I've ever done is fight. People used to say that just because Robert Baratheon was a great warrior it didn't mean he would be a good king."
"He was also a whoremonger and a drunk. You are neither. We are dragons, Jon. A crown should never rest easy on a king nor a queen. The road here on out will still be difficult." She looked over to the city, taking in the sight.
"Aye, but we'll go on that journey together. All of us." He pulled her into his arms and embraced her with a kiss on her warm, soft lips. His eyes fell closed when he tasted her sweetness and her love. He pulled away and looked at the eyes he fell in love with.
"Come, it's rather cold tonight and it's a king's duty to keep his queen warm." When the cold of the winter night came, it never reached the inside of the King and Queen's tent, for there's was the warmest of all.
By morning, both were dressed in their finest. Daenerys in a black dress with threading resembling dragon scales and a bright red cape flowing down her back from her right shoulder. Jon wore the breastplate of his Valyrian steel armor over his black leather doublet that was similar to the dress his wife wore. His northern cloak that still bore the Stark sigil was wrapped over his shoulders. Both King and Queen were finally ready when they were each crowned.
They parted ways to tend to their own duties. Jon rode on a black destrier into the city with the remaining Kingsguard. Ser Will Cole was now Lord Commander and kept his vigil close to his king along with Ser Lonnel.
As they were heading for the docks, Jon finally had the chance to look around at the efforts of providing aide. He was sure that the road he took was the first one to be visited by their men and supporters because all around the people were wrapped in warm cloaks and coats. Each person had a small bag of rations to see them through. The efforts were proving to be fruitful.
At the docks, about a dozen of the Ironborn ships moored with men loading their spoils of war on board. While Jon had no desire to loot the dead, the men of the Iron Islands were not governed by him and awarded free reign to do as their king allowed for their support in the wars.
Jon found Theon looking over his men on a set of stone steps. Theon was dressed out of his armor and into a black cloak that flapped in the wind. For once, Theon had a look about him that wasn't weasel-faced as when they were growing up or broken when they saw each other at Dragonstone.
He walked up to the King of the Iron Islands and watched with him. "I'm sorry about your sister."
Theon nodded in thanks. "Her murderer is where he belongs." He pointed to one of his ships and Jon noticed something he was surprised he missed. Tied to the kraken figurehead of the lead ship was Euron Greyjoy's body, mutilated and skin paler than snow. For the first time ever, Jon became a little intimidated by Theon. "Euron will never meet the drowned god, but Yara will. What is dead may never die, Jon, but rises harder and stronger. No one will ever match her glory in the drowned halls and no one deserves the eternal boons more than her."
Given what Jon witnessed through gods and magic in his life, he would not deny nor doubt that Yara was where Theon believed her to be. "I've sent a few ravens to Winterfell. One of them is arranging for a ship to take your son and niece-"
"Daughter." Theon corrected. "I won't have Yara's girl grow up as you did in Lady Stark's eyes. I'm going to treasure her as my own because she is. She may not be born of my loins, but she has my blood. She will be a Greyjoy through and through."
It was almost like Jon was listening to Ned Stark speak to him. "I'm proud of you, Theon. Whether that means anything, I am."
"It means everything to me." Theon finally turned to face Jon. "I wanted to be a Stark for so long, then a Greyjoy. Now, I want to be my own man. And that's what I chose it to be. The best of both families." He extended a hand out. "I wish good fortunes in your reign, Aegon Targaryen."
Jon accepted and shook Theon's hand. "And I wish the same to you, Theon Greyjoy." He gave him a curt nod before Theon left to join his men. They were nearly ready to depart.
Jon himself returned to his horse and remaining Kingsguard. With his last goodbye, it was time to join Dany and for them to go declare themselves King and Queen to the city. He and his escort traveled down the Street of Steel to the rendezvous with the Queen. Along the way, Jon took in the many sights of the city's deterioration and poverty. There were more people in the streets than there were in homes and all of them were sickly thin and sick.
Jon turned to Ser Cole riding near. "Gather two hundred men and a dozen healers to distribute rations and aide. And find some women to help care for children who need it."
"At once, your grace. I'll be as fast as I can." Ser Will spurred his horse and galloped ahead leaving Ser Lonnel the only Kingsguard vigil with the other men.
Jon scanned around at all of the suffering. His eyes caught the sight of a young girl, maybe a little older than Edric's daughter, holding a crying babe in her arms. He dismounted and approached the shivering child and knelt down to her. "Hello."
She didn't respond. She only shook from the cold and bounced the baby in her arms.
"Is that your sibling?"
"B-brother," The girl squeaked out.
"And where's your mother and father?"
The girl remained silent as she lifted a finger, pointing to an alley.
Jon stood up and walked where the girl directed. When he looked down, he was horrified to see two bodies, almost skeletal, were lying dead in the alley. The parents starved to death and died together. Even when Cersei resorted to forced cannibalism, there wasn't enough for everyone. He looked to one of his other guards. "Go after Ser Will and gather an additional squad. The dead in the streets are to be collected and laid to rest."
"Aye, your grace." The soldier rode off down the street as Jon returned to the two children.
Jon undid the straps of his cloak and pulled it off his shoulders. With a swing of his arms, the wool flew around the girl and she and her brother were wrapped in warmth. "Come on, we'll find you something to eat." He carefully scooped both of the children into his arms and sat the girl on his saddle. "May I hold him for a while?" Jon asked. The girl nodded and gave the baby to Jon. The babe was a few months old. Having him in his arms made Jon long to have his children there too.
He climbed atop his horse and resumed trotting down the street. Even though there were now rationing stations being set up, there were those too weak to even make that short of a journey. Hopefully, Ser Will would be fast.
It didn't take much longer for Jon and his company to reach their destination. They arrived at a blacksmith shop, the one formerly owned by Gendry's teacher. Gendry had been the one who recommended setting the place up as a shelter for now. His teacher had one of the hottest forges in the city and heat was well needed in these times.
Across the street was a building that was once a shop that sold what the smiths made. But it was long abandoned. For now, Daenerys decided to use it as a means to operate for the day. Jon had the horses tied and took both of the children inside where it was much warmer. There were men and women scurrying about, trying to organize as much as they could to help support the city during the aftermath of a tyrant's rule.
"Ser Lonnel," Jon said, "find something to eat and bring it upstairs for this one here." The last kingsguard was gone as Jon marched up the stairs to the only room on the upper floor. He knocked once on the door before entering and saw Dany sitting down at a table going over scroll after scroll after scroll.
She looked up and smiled at his return. "You've brought company?"
"There are too many still starving." He told her as he led the girl to a feather bed and sat her down. Her baby brother continued to cry out though. "It's alright, it's alright," Jon whispered.
"Give him here," Daenerys said with her arms out. Jon obliged and handed the babe over to his wife. There was no sudden change in the boy's crying when Dany held him in her arms.
Jon returned to the girl once Ser Lonnel returned with a bowl of bread and some strips cooked meat. Ser Lonnel left the bowl with Jon and excused himself from the room.
Jon took a loaf and tore a big piece for the girl and she immediately took it when offered. "Careful, eat it slowly." He said as she scarfed the whole thing down. He noticed that the baby's cries had suddenly ceased then. When she turned to look back, he was surprised to see Daenerys feeding the boy at her own breast.
"He's too young for solid food and there aren't any wetnurses nearby. You're not going to watch idly and neither will I."
A sudden whisper turned Jon's attention back to the girl. She was crying quietly and rubbing her eyes to hide the tears. Jon knelt down to her and gave her a small rub on her shoulders. "What's wrong?"
The girl moved her mouth, trying to form words through her sobs. "T...tha..nk y-you."
Jon pulled the shoulders of his cloaks back over the girls and wrapped the wool over the legs of the dress. "It's going to be okay now." Even though things didn't look that way right now for a great many like this girl and her baby brother, Jon believed it.
"We can't leave," Dany said.
"We're not leaving our children in Winterfell-"
"I mean we can't leave yet. Not while this city is in need of us. We're breaking the wheel, but the pieces are falling on those it once rolled over."
The two children with them were an absolute testament to that. "What more can we do then?" Jon asked. He honestly was not sure of what more could be done aside from everything they have been doing already.
"We do as Tyrion said. We show the people that we can be their strength. We are the ones who will lift them up from the ashes. But if we leave on them now, it will be a betrayal." She finished feeding the baby boy and redid her dress. She rocked him gently as he fell asleep. "We'll stay for a fortnight. After then, I will remain here and you'll return to Winterfell and bring our children home."
"Dany, the journey there and back will take maybe two months at least. We should be going together."
She set the babe softly on the bed and came up to Jon. Her fingers made their way into the curls of his hair and she placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "I know. But we can't. So will you please hurry for me?"
Jon returned a kiss to her and held her tightly as if he were leaving this very moment.
A knock on the door interrupted them and a local woman entered. Based on her appearance, she was probably a tavern wench. But she had kind features that many of the other volunteers lacked. "Beggin' yer pardons. I was told some youngin's needed lookin' after..." It took a moment, but the look on her face immediately changed to shock and she fell on one knee. "Wish someone told me I'd be meetin' the new royalty."
"It's quite alright," Jon told her. "Look after these two."
"Of course, my king." The lady replied.
As Jon and Dany made for the door, the little girl called out to him. "Your kingness." They both looked back and saw the girl removing Jon's cloak from her shoulders. Jon went back to the girl and stopped her. "But your cloak?"
Jon gave her the warmest of smiles. "You need it far more than me." Unexpectedly, he found himself almost lept onto as the girl wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.
"I won't ever forget you." She told him.
"Nor will I. I promise." He meant every word of that despite not even asking her name. He rejoined his wife and they left the children to be cared for.
As Jon and Dany went down the steps and met with the men who would be their guards for the escort, Jon felt a bit bad that he had to leave those two children alone for now. But as he looked among those gathered, he recognized one of the soldiers garbed in northern boiled leather that he knew by name. He was easy to remember because of his long brown beard and hardened looks. "It's Clay, isn't it?" Jon inquired.
"Yes, your grace." Clay replied with a nod.
"There are two children upstairs. Make sure that they get to one of the shelters and give them some company. Share a story or two." Clay had actually come to the North with Stannis Baratheon. But when Stannis fell, those that escaped either took the black or joined Jon to retake Winterfell and avenge their king. Ever since Clay had fought and won with Jon and many others.
"It would be my pleasure, your grace." Clay said and made his way upstairs behind a volunteer wetnurse that Dany had sent for the baby boy.
The King and Queen returned outside to the horses waiting for them. Only now, Jon was cloakless but he didn't care nor did he have much need of it. There was a fire burning within him that kept him warm.
Jon was once again on his black destrier and Dany on her Silver as she called it. Together they went at a good pace to meet Tyrion at the gates of the Red Keep as they continued down the Street of Steel.
As they rode deeper into the middle of the city, things became a bit more prosperous. It was where most of the soldiers were providing food and warmth where it could be spared. There were lines of people waiting to get something to eat. Some of them almost looked like wights given how much they were sickly thin while others were rather plump. It was getting a bit easy to tell which of common folk Cersei bothered with and those she didn't.
Up ahead there was an ensuing brawl between several of the citizens over getting food. Gendry's soldiers were the ones assigned to this area and immediately they broke it up and restrained all who fought.
King's Landing was so close to dying in on itself. If the Targaryen army committed to a siege instead of battle, who knows how much massacre and death the people would have caused over something as simple as a plate of food.
They had to keep going though. Even though Jon didn't care for formalities, he saw the hope raised in Winterfell when his sons' births were announced moments after destruction and death. The people needed hope more than ever now as much as they needed a King and Queen to guide them to it. Still, he kept his gaze looking all around, trying to capture every detail of the city and the people that needed help or attention.
Jon stopped. He halted his horse and froze when his gaze found the ruins of the Sept of Baelor. The building was nothing but blackened rubble and ash. But the steps and a few areas around remained. He steered his horse in a new direction, making his way up the steps.
"Jon?" Dany asked as she followed after him. "Where are you going?"
He did not answer, he just kept going until he came to the plaza just outside the ruins. There were many people all around and all were surprised when they saw Jon appear before them. He ignored them too. He dismounted his horse and walked up to the platform where it happened. People moved out of his way as fast as they could. When he got to the center, where it truly began, Jon knelt down and placed a hand on the scorched stone. There was no mark to show the memory of what happened. If there was it had faded away a long time ago.
"Jon, what is it?" Dany was behind him as was Ser Lonnel, but only she looked confused. Ser Lonnel, a Northerner, knew as well where they were.
Jon took a deep breath when a horrible pit formed in his stomach. "This is where my father died." Dany gave a slight gasp. He turned to look at her. He felt a great hate grow within him. He wished Joffrey was still alive so he could kill the bastard himself. He wanted all of his enemies alive so he could rip their heads off for all the pain they caused.
Jon looked out to the yard and saw all the people were gathered and watching him. He got to his feet and looked out to them all. "How many of you were here that day?" He said to all of them with a heavy voice. "How many of you cheered when the bastard Joffrey took Ned Stark's head? How many of you believed the lies that were confessed?" He felt his fists clenched tighter than they ever had. "How many of you are still happy with it? With how your lives became because you praised a false king murdering an honorable man?
Jon felt a soft hand wrap over his. He immediately realized when he felt Dany's touch. He glanced over to her and saw the comfort she was trying to give to him.
It managed to calm him and let him collect his thoughts. "Let me tell you about the man who died here eight years ago. A father who confessed false treason to protect his daughter. A second son who never thought he'd become the Lord of Winterfell. He fought a war to avenge his murdered father and brother and to rescue his sister, Lyanna Stark. He found her, but he learned a terrible truth. She had died giving birth to Prince Rhaegar's last living trueborn son. She begged her brother to protect her him from the wrath of Robert Baratheon. And he did. He brought the babe home and claimed him as his own bastard, sacrificing his honor to protect those he loved. He is the greatest man I have ever known, and I will not let his memory be a lie. I am Aegon Targaryen, first born of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. I am Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell. I am the blood of Old Valyria and the First Men."
Jon looked over the people and could see of faces of shame within themselves but also glimmers of hope that the royalty before them was not more of the same. But then he caught a glance of Arya in the crowd, standing next to the ruined statue of Baelor the Blessed. She looked more joyful than anyone else at that moment. She raised a fist into the air and was the first to call out. "Hail to the King and Queen! Hail to King Aegon and Queen Daenerys! Hail to the Dragons"
Other people cheered with her afterward. "Hail to the King and Queen!" the words chorused as more of the common folk joined in. "Hail to the Dragons!"
