The Darkness of Day

by WalkingPotterGirl14

He put a dagger in her heart. She died. End of story. Or was it? The Gods decide that there's more to tell, more to save, and more heartbreak to follow in the story of Daenerys and Jon's lives, starting with new revelations right outside their doors. (Rated T until chapter 26, Fix-it Fic, obvious spoilers for the show)

32. Jon: The Coronation, Pt 2

Thank you guys so much for the great response on the last chapter! Thank you to:

DarylDixon'sLover

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MiaMia

Irakli Chargazia

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Perseus Apollyon

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Your reviews helped me write this chapter because I wanted to get it out man lol so keep your awesome feedback coming! This...ended up being much longer than I thought it would be. Sort of 10,000 words longer than the last chapter - which was the main reason it took me a full week to finish it. But I really hope you enjoy it. I spent a lot of time on it and hope that it lives up to expectations. :)

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Jon

He didn't think he had ever felt so much rage in his life.

For years, Jon had never been one to get angry. He always held his tongue and did what he was told for fear of being outcasted. For years he had listened to people telling him what to do and where to go, whom to speak to and who to ignore. But as he got older, he started to realize that all that stupid shit didn't matter.

And that was when anger truly started to settle in. When someone would blatantly go against him, or didn't listen to him, or did something so outrageously dumb, but nothing compared to what he was feeling right now.

Daenerys had truly been the force that had stopped him. If he had gone down there, he probably would have murdered Aenar a million times over. He probably would have gotten Kinvara to try and bring him back multiple times so he could see the same expression on the man's face as he killed him, over and over and over. Jon wanted him to suffer. Heavily.

But he knew Daenerys was right – as much as he hated to admit it.

The people of Valyria had dealt with an awful ruler for years, someone who didn't give trials, who killed whoever they wanted to. They had dealt with tyrants who wanted to take over the world and form it back to what it once was. They needed someone new. Someone better.

He knew he and Daenerys were the best options going forward with something like this. And as much as he wanted to go down there and kill them both, he needed to be smart about this. She knew it, and so did he. Although a trial would be completely unnecessary, it would show that they gave a fair look into anything that happened and didn't just kill.

But gods did he want to.

The only reason he hadn't gone down there was the look in her eye. The look of fear, of nervousness. Daenerys was scared he was going to snap – and that was the last thing he wanted her to see, him lose his shit. They were meant to do this together and bring back the people of Valyria together. Not get torn apart by the horrible fuckers that were down below them.

So he had stopped the urge inside of him, quenched the fire with water for the time being, so he could be by his lover's side. He had been trying so hard the past month to gain the trust of the Valyrian people and he didn't want to just throw that all away over a death. He needed to show he was reasonable, that he was better than the others, and he would continue to keep trying until Daenerys gave him the go-to kill.

And now, as they walked towards their son's room, all he could think about was how blind he had been. How was it that he had spoken to Daemon hundreds of times, and yet he hadn't picked up on his distance from the world? On how he was feeling? He and Daenerys had both faced death and yet this had been lost on them for nearly a month. It was only when Daenerys started looking for answers that they found out.

He needed to be more like her, more intuitive. If he had been, maybe they would have realized something was up sooner.

Quietly, as soon as they step outside Daemon's door, Daenerys looks up at him with a silent expression, one that spoke volumes to him, saying 'let's take this slow.' He was still relatively new to this whole parenting aspect, of trying to comfort your kids after they go through something like this, but he knew with Daenerys next to him, it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would be.

At least that's what he hoped.

Daenerys brings her hand up to the door and knocks, once, twice, three times, before speaking. "Daemon? It's your father and I…we'd like to speak with you."

There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment before they heard shuffling, and then a quiet voice answer, "come in."

Jon opens the door and steps in, and instantly his brow furrows in shock. On the floor were multiple clothes that seemed to be filled with blood. Before he could even ask his son what the hell he had been doing, Daemon answers. "My gashes bled a lot." His answer was quick, planned. He knew someone would ask. "I was trying to stop the bleeding the best I could but they're, uh…pretty bad injuries."

Jon looks over at him as Daenerys follows into the room. She sits on Daemon's bed quietly as Jon picks up the tissues. "It's alright…wounds reopening all the time is normal."

Daenerys pats the spot next to the bed before Daemon could respond. "Come here, Daemon. We want to talk with you about something important."

Daemon's brow furrows as he stands, walking to the bed. "What is it?" he asks as he sits down next to her.

Jon tosses the used clothes into a waste bin, before turning his gaze back to his son. "Your mother and I have found something out about you that should have been told to us a long time ago, but we knew we needed to talk with you about it."

Daemon raises an eyebrow this time before Daenerys quietly moves her hands under her cloak. She then pulls out his sketchbook, before placing it quietly onto the spot next to her son. His eyes widen in shock as he swipes it close to his body. "Why would you take this?"

"You were worrying me," Daenerys answers softly. "The Daemon I've known for years has always been happy and bright and willing to go and do things, and yes I know you went through something traumatic, but it wasn't explaining how…or why you drew these drawings. I needed to see if there was a correlation…and I believe we found out why."

Daemon was silent, but Jon could tell by the look that passed through his eyes that he knew exactly what they were referring to. He sighs and moves to sit on his opposite side, placing a hand gently on his shoulder – knowing his back was still very much injured.

"The red priest told us this," Jon starts gently. "But we wanted to find out if it was true directly from you. So Daemon…is it true you…you died in that cave?"

Daemon doesn't reply. He stares down at his sketchbook, his shoulders moving up and down with his breaths. After a moment, he begins to shake, and Jon sees his lip start to quiver. Within seconds, he had tears streaming down his cheeks. Jon conceals a sigh of aggravation and instead wraps his arms around the boy, feeling him shake against his body with silent sobs.

He exchanges a look with Daenerys, who looked absolutely heartbroken and what she was seeing. She reaches out and hugs Daemon gently from behind, letting her head rest on his shoulder as the boy cried. All they could do right now is be there for him and try to understand what he was going through.

After a moment, he pulls back and wipes at his nose, but tears still fell from his eyes. "Why didn't you tell us?" Jon asks him, his voice low. "You know we would have been able to help you. Both of us."

"I know," Daemon whispers, his own voice shaking with grief. "I know, and that's why I didn't bring it up."

Daenerys' brow furrows as she pulls away from him, but not too far, resting her hands on her son's. "What do you mean?"

Daemon closes his eyes and was quiet for a moment, before looking up at his mother. "I know you and father have been through death itself…I know I could come to you but…but what happened to me, it wasn't just…darkness or anything like that. I had visions, terrifying things that haunt my sleep. Why do you think I'm also so tired? I never get any rest…my back will never heal because it's what killed me, and now I have to deal with the nightmares and I…I just can't…"

He starts to cry again, and Jon instantly wraps his arms around the boy, feeling him sink into his chest. He hated seeing him cry. Jon had always tried his hardest to make sure Dan never cried and usually, she didn't, because she was a strong girl. When he met Daemon, he had a feeling that he was the same. But seeing him open up like this did something to Jon.

When he pulls back after a moment, he looks at him seriously. "Are these the drawings you've been putting in that book of yours?" Daemon nods, swallowing. "You say they were visions?"

"I…I don't even know what they were, really," Daemon continues, letting out a deep breath. "Wherever I was when I died, it felt…real. It felt that I was in one of the seven hells you talk about…the creatures were so close I could almost feel them breathing on me and now I can't get them out of my head. It hurts to think about it."

Daenerys shares a look with Jon, and he could tell from her expression that she was nervous about what Daemon was speaking about. They had seen their fair share of monsters and creatures in their lives at this point, and hearing that their son was having visions, as well as their daughter, was quite concerning. But he knew he needed to keep his composure if Daemon wanted to trust them with his fears.

"You know, I had nightmares for a long time," Jon says to him gently, causing Daemon to look up. "When I was brought back, I had to deal with the fact that my sister wanted to win a war to get back Winterfell, but while I would plan during the day, I would be terrified by the nightmares at night. I would be killed, over and over and over again, each time in different ways. Betrayed. It was hard to overcome, but I knew that I had to. And eventually, I did. These nightmares you have…you need to realize that it's all in your mind, and nothing else. Nothing is going to harm you while you sleep, or hurt you when you awake. You have us. You have your family. You are here safely."

Daemon turns his gaze over to his mother. "Did you have nightmares too?"

Daenerys shares a glance with Jon, almost asking permission to share how she felt. And he nods, knowing he wasn't one to hold her back. "I did," she answers softly, turning back to Daemon. "For a long time. From the moment I woke up and held you in my arms to as recent as months ago. They've only stopped because I've…I've found your father." Jon smiles a bit at that but doesn't say anything. "It takes time to get over something, but I know you, out of everyone, can do it."

"And what if I can't?" Daemon asks quietly, looking at them both. "What if I can't find that bravery or…I can't find that person that can make them go away? What if I'm just…stuck with them? With this…darkness in me?"

"You won't be," Jon answers softly for him. "You want to know how I know?" Daemon slowly nods after a moment. "Even after being brought back from the dead, you still walked out of the cave with your mother, alive. Kinvara always says that the Lord of Light brings back people for a reason – and your reason is that you're here, meant to be with us. We're a family, and we get through this together." He reaches over and takes the boy's hand. "I know that it's confusing and messy and we didn't know how to handle it either, but you must know that no matter what, we are always going to be here for you."

Daemon nods softly before letting his shoulders drop. "I'm sorry that I've been, uh…absent, I guess."

"You don't need to be sorry for that," Daenerys responds. "We didn't know what you went through until we had to push people to tell us. It's not your fault."

"I didn't want to stress you out," he admits, looking up at her. "It's like with Meereen…you two both took over this major role and I…I felt like I was just going to add on more pressure."

Jon snorts from where he sits and both Daenerys and Daemon raise an eyebrow to him. He raises his hands in defense. "I'm sorry for laughing, but your mother is probably the best one under pressure. She can handle anything. Me – that's something I have to learn better." He rests his hand gently on the boy's back. "But it's something I'm learning with you."

"You really don't need to worry about those marks too," Daenerys says to Daemon. "Eventually, they will stop bleeding. The marks will stay but the redness will fade, and will be replaced by scars."

"But who wants something with scars?" he asks quietly, looking up at her. "In the future, I mean…I know I'm young but I – I've thought about that kind of stuff."

"Daemon, if people really cared about scars, you and your sister would not be alive right now," Jon stated bluntly, causing Daenerys to narrow her eyes at him, but he only shrugs. "What? It's true. Your mother saw my scars long before we got together. If people were truly disgusted by them, you wouldn't be here, but you are. At the end of the day, scars don't mean anything on a person's body beside a story…and each of those scars tells yours. And one day, whether that's in a couple of years or ten, you'll find someone who will want to hear that story – and not care about how you look."

He could see Daenerys smile at his words and he felt a tiny bit of warmth enter his chest against the cold he had been feeling since finding out the news. Jon never thought of himself as someone who could give good advice but it was how he felt about that. And the last thing he wanted was for his son to feel like the world was turning against him.

"Thanks, father," he says softly, looking up at him. And for the first time in a month, he sees his son smile. "That really…really means a lot." Jon smiles gently as Daemon turns his head to Daenerys. "I know I should have told you. I know you've told me before how I can talk to you about anything but I…I was wrong. Next time, I'll tell you everything."

Daenerys takes her son's hand. "I don't need you to tell me everything that happens in your life, Daemon. But if something is bothering you, you know I'm always here for you. As is your father."

"I know…and I love you two for that." Daenerys smiles widely at that. "I know I haven't said it much lately but I am really thankful…to have you two as my family instead of…well, you know how horrible the parents here can be."

"Do we," Jon mutters.

Daemon sighs and glances at the ground. "Gods, I feel awful for how I've treated Dan…I've barely spoken with her."

"Dan understands," Daenerys says to him. "She knows what you're going through. She was with us when she found out."

"She was? Is she okay?" The concern was evident in his voice, but Daenerys nods and holds her son's hand in her own.

"She is fine. Don't worry. If anything, finding out helped her understand what was happening a little better – as it did for all of us. You'll be able to see her later on if you want to."

Daemon nods quietly. "I'm…I'll still come to the coronation. I promise. I'm just…sorry for not speaking about it. I feel terrible." He looks back up at them. "Nesara should be awake now…I shouldn't be here."

"You should be. Don't say that," Jon whispers fiercely to him. "What Nesara did was to save you, because she wanted to make sure you lived. She may be asleep still but that doesn't change the fact that she wanted you here just as much as we do. And eventually, she will wake. You have to trust us."

Daemon sighs but nods. "I know…I know, and I'm trying to think that way." He lets out a quiet breath before looking up at them. "I guess I should probably try and get ready for tonight…make an impression on the people."

Daenerys chuckles a bit but hugs her son as tightly as she could without hurting his back. Jon does the same, squeezing his arms as he did. When he pulls back, Daenerys moves her hand over to his own. "If you need any help getting dressed, let us know…we know the wounds might make it difficult."

"I know…thank you." Both Jon and Daenerys smile and stand, going to leave. "Wait." His voice stops them, and they turn around. "There's, uh…something else."

Jon's brow furrows as he walks back over to him. "What is it?"

"Um…those blood rags that you saw before…it wasn't because my wounds reopened."

Daenerys walks over next, a concerned expression on her face. "What do you mean? Where did it come from then?"

"I…it's hard to explain. I think I'd need to demonstrate it," he admits quietly, walking over to his desk. His fingers wrap around a knife, a dagger that he owned, and ever so quickly, he swipes it across his palm. Instantly, blood begins to pour down his fingers.

"Daemon, what the fuck are you doing?!" Jon curses, running over to help him, but Daemon drops the knife and holds out his hand, a pleading look on his face. Jon stares at him in shock before looking over at Daenerys, seeing if she was as surprised as him.

But she only stands and watches Daemon quietly, before moving her gaze to Jon. She nods in silent acceptance of what Daemon was doing. Jon stands there, shocked for a moment, before shaking his head and stepping back, staring at his son.

"What is it then?" he asks, arms falling against his body.

Daemon turns his gaze away from his father and focuses his eyes on the cut on his hand. Quietly, he whispers something in Ancient Valyrian while raising his other hand again towards the blood. Nothing happens for a moment, and Jon wondered what the hell was going on through this boy's head, but suddenly, tiny blood droplets start to drip out of his hand…and levitate in the air.

Jon watches in shock as Daemon starts to move around the blood droplets like they were flying, before moving them back onto his hand. He moves them upwards, as the droplets begin to move closer and closer to the cut until they seeped back in. Then, within moments, the cut seals itself back up, as if it had never happened. The only thing that remained was pinkish skin.

"I've been experimenting with it for the last couple of hours," he admits, turning back to them, but both were stunned still. "I don't know where it came from…ever since I came out of that cave, I haven't been able to heal anything. I didn't know if my powers were taken away when I was brought back, or maybe it was blocked…but today my gashes did open and I was looking at them in the mirror…and something told me to 'use the blood.' When I tried to move it, it did that…I know that Dan can control fire, but I think I'm…I'm able to control blood."

Jon blinks a couple of times before he turns to Daenerys, almost expecting her to say something, but she was shocked silent. "So…so that's where all these cloths came from?" Jon asks him, his brow furrowed in surprise.

"Yeah. I didn't want to hurt the wounds on my back anymore, so I started to open small ones on my body. The ones that didn't heal as quickly are the reason I had to use the clothes."

"Seven hells," Jon mutters, running a hand through his hair. "I…I know that this is new but you shouldn't be hurting yourself to test it out, Daemon."

"I know. But it was the only way I could make sure I wasn't losing my mind…I think this might be a branch of healing." Jon's brow furrows, looking at his son to continue. "I mean…I can sew up the skin just like that when I focus on the blood…but when I try to use the incantations I learned with healing, it doesn't work. Maybe this is just a rare form of healing sorcery that no one experiences…it might be different."

"It's blood sorcery," comes Daenerys' voice from where she stood. Jon looks over and sees Dany still standing there, shocked, but now she was at least speaking. "It's what Kinvara used to guide Drogon over to Vaas Kasheen to save us. It's what she used to try and save Jon. You have the powers that a red priest has, Daemon…and yet, you aren't devoted to the Lord of Light. You were gifted them."

Daemon shrugs quietly. "I mean…I don't feel that way. Do you think they will be angry?"

"No," Jon instantly answers, sensing what Daenerys was thinking. "If anything, it'll be the opposite. They're start to worship you or something like that." He turns to look at her, and he could see the silent fear in her eyes. Quietly, he moves his gaze back to his son once more. "Daemon, don't tell anyone about this. Your sister is the only other person who can know…we need to find out more about blood sorcery before we can really move forward with what this is."

Daemon was quiet, but he nods gently. "O…okay." He rubs the back of his neck. "Do…do you look at me differently now?"

Daenerys sighs from where she stood and finally walks over to her soon, resting her hands on his shoulders. "I still love you just as much as the day I first held you, but you and I both know that blood sorcery has never been great for our family…it's something we only need to educate ourselves about. You don't need to worry about us." She leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her son's forehead. "It's going to be okay. Don't worry about us."

Daemon nods once she pulls away. "I'll get ready for tonight…but thank you two…for understanding."

Jon smiles and nods at him. "We'll always be here for you." Daenerys smiles the same, hugging her son tightly. When she pulls back, she was the first one to the door, and Jon follows. As he goes to leave, he watches as Daemon moves his sketchbook back to his end table, and sits on the bed, but notices a tiny smile appear at the edge of his lips.

And through all of the madness he had just witness, Jon was glad they had come to speak to him.

Once he closes the door, however, he turns his gaze to see Daenerys pacing down the hallway, instantly heading towards their chambers, but the look of worry was evident on her face. He speeds up to catch her, his brow furrowed. "Daenerys." She doesn't stop, only continues walking. "Dany, please." Her head stays towards the front, not moving for a second. "Dany, stop."

"Why should I?" she instantly states, turning her gaze around to look at him. Her voice was filled with fright, and her eyes were widened with fear. He could almost see her shaking in the dim light the torches of the castle provided. "You saw what I saw. You could see he has…I…fuck, this is the way the gods get their revenge…their laughing at me…"

Her voice turns to a whisper as she moves her head away, and tears start to trickle down her cheeks. Jon instantly grabs her arm and moves her into a crevice in the hallway, away from any peeping eyes that might see them when moving through the castle. He gently places his hands on her cheeks, concern lacing his voice.

"Daenerys, what is wrong?"

"You know what is wrong, Jon," she whispers, and he could tell that on the edge of her voice, she whimpered. "Any time blood magic has ever been used with my family, all it has done it caused pain and suffering. It didn't bring you back, it didn't bring back Daemon, it didn't bring back my…all it has ever done is cause me pain, and I'm terrified Daemon is going to end up like…like…"

She didn't need to finish her sentence. Jon knew she was thinking of the witch from years ago.

"Daenerys," he starts out softly. "You and I both know that what she did was wrong, but Daemon is never going to end up like that. You know our son. He's better than that. And besides, as we both know now…that witch wasn't a reliable source of information." His words playback to when he first said it, and he sees her smile a bit, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"I know, I'm just…scared." She moves her gaze back up to him and bites her lip. "I'm terrified something is going to happen to him, Jon. I can't lose my family…I had nothing for so long and now I…I feel like I've been given everything, only for it to get taken away…because that's how my life has worked for so long…"

"Nothing is going to get taken away," he reassures her. "I'm here, your children are here, you have the whole back of Valyria willing to serve you…nothing is going to change that, Dany. You need to trust me on this. Do you trust me?"

Daenerys brow furrows, nodding her head. "I've told you before that I do."

"Then you need to believe me when I say we're not going anywhere. Your son isn't going to become some evil sorcerer. He's still going to be the same…we just need to learn more about who he is. What this blood sorcery is like. You aren't alone. I'm confused as fuck too…but I want to be there to help you. And you need to accept that help."

Daenerys bites her lip but nods, sighing. "I know…I know. I'm only…thinking of what's happened in the past. I don't want to remember it. But you are right…my son isn't like that and it's time I accepted that."

"That's my girl," Jon whispers, before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. When he pulls back, she steps out into the hallway, sighing.

"I suppose I should go and get ready."

Jon bites his lip and looks over to her. "Go and take a bath and do your hair…I'll show you what I have in a bit."

Her brow furrows. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on some things. I'll be at you in a little bit. Don't worry about me." He grabs her hand tightly and squeezes it. "You need to let go a little. This is supposed to be a fun night. Enjoy it."

Daenerys sighs but nods. "Alright…don't be too long, please."

"I won't be." He brings her hand up to his lips and kisses the tips of her fingers before letting it fall, and then he steps away and around the corner.

He waits for a moment until he hears her footsteps begin to trickle away until the echo's disappeared. Once he couldn't hear anything anymore, he moves away and heads right in the direction of the dungeons.

He wasn't going to kill anyone…but he knew he needed to pay them a visit.

---

When Jon arrives down in the dungeons, he didn't realize how dark it would be. It reminded him a bit of the dungeons in Meereen, and he felt a small pang hit his heart thinking of that pyramid. He missed his sister and even Eleana. It didn't feel quite as right without them. But boy would they have a fit when they found out what they had been up to.

That would be a little bit hard to explain. 'How are you, Arya? Dany and I have become a king and queen of a nation we once all thought was long gone but is actually flourishing. How has Meereen been?'

Yeah, he'd need to think about how to properly tell her.

He walks through the dreary halls before his eyes land on two figures in separate cages. One of which was barely lighted by fire, but he could tell it was Saeresa. She still had no hair from when he had dipped her head into the lava, and he could tell that the burns from the scars would last forever, but he didn't really care. She deserved every single ounce of pain she was given.

Although she was the one who was unconscious. The other one was very much alive, and he could hear him breathing heavily.

"Aegon," the man snarls at him.

Jon lets out a low breath and picks up a torch from the wall, before walking over to the second figure. He holds the flame up to the bars, and from the shadows, Aenar's dirty and cut face appeared. He had scars littered on his skin, and Jon could clearly see the clothes he was wearing were the same from the day they captured him, still stained with the blood from when Jon had stabbed him. No wonder it smelt like utter shit in here.

"Didn't I tell you the first day I met you I didn't like that name?" Jon asks him.

"I don't care what the fuck you say," Aenar snaps. "I don't care what you say or you do. You're nothing compared to me and my wife. Nothing!"

Gods, was this man really that delusional?

Again, Jon had never been one for power. He had always tried to do what we best and leave out the unneeded things over time. Follow duty and honor and that was that. But being with Daenerys had given him a new purpose, and it seemed that it was very evident to many people.

He literally had people bowing at his feet and yet this man still thought he had power? Jon wasn't the hugest fan of being called king, or even a lord, but he knew it was his right if he wanted to have it. For Aenar, he had nothing, and yet here he was, still proclaiming that he was better, or something like that.

"You're really mad, you know that?" Jon starts quietly. Aenar doesn't respond, but he sees the man's eyes narrow into slits. "I know what you did, Aenar."

The man laughs, shaking his head. "What? Do you think I'm scared of you? Bring on your pathetic image, boy."

"You killed my son, Aenar."

His voice dropped low, almost to a whisper while he stared the man down. Aenar's brow raises in surprise before he scoots a step back, his hand falling over the wound Jon had inflicted on him a month ago. "How…why would you-"

"Don't even try to deny it," Jon snaps. He places the torch on the wall again so he could see the man's face lit in the darkness before he wraps his hands around the bars of the cage Aenar was in. "The red priests told us. Daemon confirmed it. You killed my son because you were hurting your daughter, and then she brought him back. Admit it."

Aenar doesn't respond. Jon slams his hands onto the bars, the sound echoing throughout the dungeons. Aenar whimpers and moves back, his gaze falling to the ground.

"Admit it!" he screams, his anger flourishing.

Aenar doesn't move from his spot, but after a moment, his eyes travel back to meet Jon's. And ever so slowly, he opens his mouth. "I killed Daemon."

Jon's hand tighten around the bars, the rage coursing through him like a wild river. Aenar stood up slowly and walked over to him.

"And I would do it again."

Jon reaches through the bars and grabbed the man by the shirt, pulling him so hard against the cage that his head slammed into the metal, cutting open a scab on his forehead. The man curses and glares at him, but doesn't fight it. Instead, he flinches as soon as Jon's other hand tightened around the man's neck.

But he stares at the pathetic excuse for a king in front of him, before dropping him suddenly to the ground. Aenar coughs, gasping for air, while Jon steps away, shaking his head.

"You know – I tried to have respect for you," Jon starts, finally turning his head back to the man. "I tried. Even after you treated my family like shit when we came here, I tried. But after I saw what you did, and what you continued to do to your own children, and now to mine…you're never going to walk out of this castle alive again. You're never going to be a king. You're going to die slow and painful."

"Then get on with it already!" the man snaps at him. "You want to take our power so badly, then take it, you piece of shit!"

"You don't think we already have?" Jon asks him, walking slowly back up to the cage. "We've been ruling over Valyria for the past month. It's been thriving ever since we took hold. The people that you didn't care about are finally opening up. The lords and ladies you never listened to are having their voices heard. And yet, here you sit, in your own shit, thinking that you have any ounce of power over me."

Aenar stares up at him, not saying a word.

"You know, if I had it my way, I would have killed you and your wife already," Jon admits, crossing his arms against his chest. "I would have torn you limb by limb until there was nothing but a sorry sack of shit still alive, and then burned you at the stake for killing my child. I would have had your wife eaten by a dragon and then spat up into the sea to get munched on by some other unknown creature. But Daenerys is the only thing that's stopped me."

"So you let a woman control you…some man you are," Aenar growls at him.

Jon chuckles a bit, his voice dark. "No. Daenerys doesn't control me. And I don't control her. We work together. You don't think she wants to kill you as much as I do? Please…if anything, she's a silent killer. Daenerys is the type of woman who knows what she wants, and as soon as she wants it, she will do it herself, or get someone to do it. But we aren't here to be ruthless leaders who kill anyone. Everything has a strategy. Everything has a plan. And you are a part of that."

Jon leans down onto his knees, crouching in front of Aenar, not moving his gaze from his.

"She knows that people will think of us differently if we just killed you. So here's how everything is going to go down. Tonight, the kingdom is officially having a coronation for us, to become king and queen, taking away any last sense of power that you have. My son, my daughter, as well as your own children – who really shouldn't even be yours in the first place – will have a fun time. People will drink, dance, and enjoy the peace that we can give them, until the moment we bring you up. Then, we will put you and your pathetic excuse for a wife on trial. You will admit to everything you've done, in front of the kingdom, in front of your children, and to us. From there, we will see who has the most creative death out of all the ideas we get, and Daenerys and I will put our own twist on it. But there is no way we would let you die without every single person knowing here what you were planning on doing."

"You say I'm a mad king," the man snaps at him. "And yet here you are coming up with creative ways to kill someone?!"

"It's called being a ruler," Jon states, standing up this time. "I grew up a bastard, Aenar, in the North of Westeros, one of the cruelest places you can be as a child. Although I know that isn't what I am anymore, it taught me some of the most valuable lessons I will ever learn. And you want to know what they were?"

Aenar doesn't respond, but Jon could see the anger spread within the king's eyes. He leans down close to him so he could witness the rage spread across the man's face.

"One of them was to never let someone you know is guilty go, because all they will ever do is retry what they said they would never do again…and the second is the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and I can assure you the man who kills you is going to be me."

He steps away from the bars, moving his feet finally to go back up the stairs to the main portion of the castle. But of course, only then does Aenar continue to speak.

"You don't deserve any of this," the man hisses at him. "You don't deserve to be walking in those halls…you don't deserve to be sleeping in that bed of ours, or sitting on our thrones, or anything! No matter what you fucking do, you will never be a true Valyrian!"

Jon snorts but turns his head back to the man, raises his brow. "Why the fuck would I want to be a true Valyrian? You don't need to have a perfect bloodline to learn how to lead people. I know that's what you have thought for years, but it's an old way of thinking. And it will die with you. Your house names will die with you. All of what you are will die with you. And it's time you accepted that."

He turns back around to leave, but a sudden thought pops into his head. He could almost remember what he had said to Daario ages ago in the dungeons when he had been brought back to life, but this time it was different. This time, he had the high ground, more than he even thought he would. So, he turns back to Aenar, his lips turned up into a tiny, almost invisible smirk.

"By the way, you said that we don't deserve the thrones or the bed or anything like that, but I can assure you we have already very-well made it our own." He crouches down in front of him, his brow raised. "I've redone this whole castle with Daenerys. We've made it look better than ever. And what will make you even feel better is that we have fucked everywhere. On your bed, in the bathing chambers, and anywhere else we see fit because guess what? We are the rulers now." He could almost see the man's face glowing red from anger. "We control Valyria. We control your people. And you are never going to get that back."

With that, he stands and walks back towards the stairs. The old king hurls insults at him, obscenities after obscenities, but Jon lets each one roll off of him. He had been insulted his whole life, and he wasn't about to let some pathetic old man suddenly make him feel like shit for it. Now, he stood tall. He stood proud. And he knew there was no going back to what he once was.

He may not have been able to kill Aenar today physically, but at least he had begun to end him mentally. And that was the first step.

---

When Jon arrived on the highest floor of the castle, the first thing he heard was screaming. But not regular screaming. It was a little girl.

He races up to where he could hear the screaming coming from and stops outside the door to Nesara's room. There was a handmaiden who was standing there clearly terrified and didn't know what to do, but Jon rests his hands on the girl's shoulders, turning her towards him. "What is happening. What is going on?" he quickly asks.

"She…Lady Nesara awoke, and we think it might have been some sort of nightmare but she…she's not letting anyone touch her or speak with her and she…she won't stop screaming."

Jon nods his head softly, trying to tune out the sound so he could speak directly to the young woman. "Did you tell Queen Daenerys?"

"Yes. We sent a handmaiden her way. We…we've been trying but she won't stop!"

Jon nods, stepping away from her. He moves to the room and steps in, feeling his heart tear in two at what he saw. Nesara was in a ball, her head in her hands against the head post of her bed, screaming into her knees, shaking, crying, while the handmaiden who had been trying to calm her down was standing still, not knowing what to do. Jon couldn't hear what she was saying but could tell it wasn't anything good.

He turns to the handmaiden who was shocked and whispers in her ear, "leave me with her. I'll handle this." The woman nods her head quietly before rushing out of the room and into the hallway, closing the chamber door. Jon rushes over to the bed and gently sits on it, reaching his hands over to where Nesara was sitting.

As soon as he places his hands on her arms, she screams louder, trying to get away, but he moves closer and wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. "Shh, it's okay, Nesy…it's just me…it's okay, you're safe…stop screaming, it's okay…"

Slowly, Nesara's screams turn to cries, and the cries turn to silent whimpers, her little body shaking against his. He could feel how she curled up into his chest, her tears wetting his shirt, but he couldn't care less. He had some experience in the past helping his children and even Daenerys with their nightmares, but he had never witnessed a child so young in so much pain. It hurt his heart to hear it.

He continues to rub her back gently, feeling her slowly start to calm down. He moves his eyes to the door where he sees that the handmaiden had popped her head in and was staring at him in shock. He knew what they were thinking. How the hell did he comfort a girl who seemed to be completely and utterly inconsolable a moment ago?

He had some practice for some time now. He didn't blame them.

Handmaidens – or at least the ones that he had experienced – were never trained in this sort of treatment of children. They were supposed to take care of their basic needs and make sure that they lived to see another day by giving them food. Sometimes handmaidens went the extra mile and become a friend to whom they are serving – as Missandei did with Daenerys all that time ago.

But screaming children who refused to be held? That was something that many handmaidens didn't know much about.

After a moment, she finally pulls her head back and looks up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks had streaks from the tears, but she was calm. He could still see some of the cuts from when she had been beaten healing on her face.

"Are you calm?" he asks her gently. After a couple of seconds, she slowly nods her head, but doesn't move from her spot. "Now why were you screaming? They were only trying to help."

"I…I thought that…" She swallows and glances at the ground. "I thought that was happened was…was a nightmare…that he was still…here."

Jon feels himself sigh at her explanation. He knew what it was. She thought her father would be the one waking her up. And after getting beaten practically to death, he could understand why she was terrified of anyone touching her. "I promise you, your father is very far away from you," Jon says softly. "And you're never going to have to face him again for as long as you live."

Nesara stares at the fur beneath her, before she starts to sniffle. Quietly, she turns her head up to look at him, and he could see clear confusion laced in her eyes.

"Did…did I do something wrong?"

Jon's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

"My…my father…he hurt me and I…I thought I did everything right…am I…am I a failure?"

Jon lets out a deep breath at her words once he sees tears start to escape her eyes again, trickling down her cheeks. He brings a hand up to her face, silently wiping away the lone tear that dripped down onto her skin. "Nesara, you have done nothing wrong and I promise you, there is nothing you could have done that could have changed what happened…I don't mean to be brash but your father is a horrible man. He has done nothing but hurt you and your siblings, as well as others…and if Daenerys and I have our way, that will stop soon."

Nesara swallows as she nods quietly, looking down. "Did…did I save Daemon?"

Jon smiles gently and grabs her hand in his. "You did, sweet girl. You saved him and we've never been more grateful." He sees a small smile spread across her tiny lips, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "You did everything you could do, Nesy. Don't feel bad about what happened. You were in the right."

Nesara looks up at him, and suddenly, the door opens wider. Jon turns his gaze to see Daenerys standing there, clearly concerned. Her hair was already braided and ready to go for the night but clearly the handmaiden had come knocking on her door when she was getting ready.

That was fine with him. He had a plan for that anyway.

"Nesara," Daenerys whispers as she comes over to the bed, gently sitting on it. "How are you? You've been asleep for some time."

Nesara's brow furrows as she looks between them. "How…how long?"

Her gaze turns to Jon and he sighs. "About a month now."

Her eyes widen as she suddenly brings her knees to her body, clutching them close. "Oh no…is my brother and sister okay? Did they hurt them too? Are they dead?"

"No, no, they are alright," Daenerys reassures her. "Right now, they're getting ready for the coronation we're having tonight, but they have been by your side almost every night. Mae is okay, and so is Zaevar."

Nesara nods again, her head resting now against the headboard. "…okay."

"Why were you screaming so much?" Daenerys asks her gently. "You near scared the life out of my handmaidens."

Nesara's cheeks grow red at the statement but she answers anyway. "I told Jon…I thought it was my father. That the nightmare was real…I didn't know if we even got out of the volcano or not. I just remember trying to bring back Daemon and then…then nothing."

"We assumed you passed out from the severity of what you were doing," Daenerys responds. "It's why you've been asleep for so long. That and these wounds." Nesara looks up as Daenerys gently places a hand on one of the gashes on her stomach, sighing softly. "You and Daemon are lucky you had each other…I truly don't know what would have happened." She pulls her hand back and then lets it rest on the girl's smaller one. "You don't need to be afraid. We are here and we aren't going to let anything happen to you."

Nesara looks at the two of them before speaking. "Where…where are my parents?"

"In the dungeons, locked up," Jon answers. "They're far away, where they won't hurt you."

"And…and they can't get out?"

"Unless someone lets them out for some reason," Daenerys responds. "Which I doubt will happen with how much security is down there, they are locked up for good. You never have to worry about them again."

Nesara nods softly again, looking like she was trying to find the right words to say. "And…and my siblings are okay?"

"Perfectly safe," Jon reassures her softly.

Nesara doesn't respond, but after a few seconds, she begins to cry again, silent tears that streaked down her cheeks to her soiled shirt beneath her, and she curls into Jon's chest, her body quietly shaking. Jon rubs his hands on her back, looking at Daenerys in quiet worry. She comes forward and starts to run her fingers through the girl's hair, trying to calm her down.

After a moment, the girl pulls back, sniffling, and whispers two words. "…thank you."

Jon feels himself smile slightly, glancing at Daenerys. "You don't need to thank us," Daenerys says, holding the girl's hand. "It's what we came here to do."

"No, I mean…thank you for keeping my family safe…and me…a lot of other people would hurt us because of my father or…something else, but I…I'm really happy it was you."

Jon could feel himself smile more at her words, but he holds his own back, not wanting to put even more information on the girl than she already needed for something like this. "Of course, sweetling," Daenerys whispers to her. She reaches over and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, before pulling back with a kind smile. "You know we are always going to be here to protect you."

Nesara smiles again, this time a genuine one. Jon looks at her seriously this time, however. "Nesara, be honest." She tilts her head up to look at him. "How are your wounds? Do you feel any pain? Is that why you were screaming as well?"

"Um…I'm okay," she answers softly. "I…I feel pain but it's…it's not bad. It's not like how it was in the cave…I feel alright." She smiles a little and glances at the ground. "I have a feeling that Daemon took…a lot of the blows."

Daenerys' shoulders drop and she turns the girl's head towards her own. "Listen to me. I don't know if Jon has told you this or not but Daemon is alright. He is alive because of you. Don't you blame yourself for something that you couldn't control. He is okay and you did everything in your power to keep him alive. And for that, we are thankful to you. Don't feel bad. He wanted to keep you safe."

"He's like Jon," she says softly, looking over at him. "Always taking one for the people he cares about."

Jon's brow raises. "Why do you say that?"

"…Daemon's told me stories."

Jon rolls his eyes, but he feels himself chuckle slightly. He didn't care what Dameon told or who he spoke it too. As long as they were safe and sound, he couldn't care if he told the whole world about who he was or what he had done. He just wanted his children safe.

"I'm sure he has," Daenerys chuckles from where she sat. "And he is like his father, you are right…I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing." The line is followed by a bit of a laugh. "But at least you can always rely on him to keep you safe."

"I know," Nesara answers softly.

"If you need anything, we're going to have people right outside this door. Food, water, bandages – all of it. We didn't expect you to wake up today but don't be afraid or scared…we're here to help you."

Nesara smiles before she bites her lower lip again. "Um…I have one request."

"What is it?" Jon asks her softly.

"I…you said you're having a coronation. You're taking over?" Jon and Daenerys both quietly nod. "And…if there's a coronation…there's a festival." Again, both nod. "…will there be cake?"

Jon snorts and feels his head drop, trying to hold in his laughter. This girl had just woken up from one of the worst experiences of her life and that was one of her first requests? Cake? Good gods, what child had he taken into his care?

Daenerys snickers a bit from where she sat but nods. "Yes, there will be cake."

"…can I have some?"

Daenerys laughs at the girl's ginger request, before wrapping arms around her tightly. "You can have the whole damn feast if you want, sweetling. We're just happy you're okay." She leans down and presses another kiss to her forehead, resting a hand on her cheek. "Right now, all you have to do is rest, and we will bring as much food and cake up here that you want."

Nesara smiles and nods. Daenerys goes to stand and turns to Jon, who still had his head hanging. She raises an eyebrow.

"Are you alright there, Snow?" she teases.

He forces his head up, biting his lip so hard that he thought it might bleed. "I'm alright. Just trying hard not to burst out laughing. I swear in another life you would be joker," Jon states, turning to Nesara, who was giggling. "Cake. Of all things. My gods." He stands, shaking his head. "We have to go and get ready, but if you need anything, just let a guard know. We aren't that far from here."

Nesara nods, smiling as they left. But before either could walk out the door, he hears her call to him. "Jon?"

He turns around to look at her. "Hmm?"

"How do you know my nickname?"

Jon shares a bit of a nervous glance with Daenerys. They had talked about how they were going to speak to her when she awoke because of how sensitive she had been, but he had never really proposed that he used Nesy as his name for her. He knew it was Zaevar's way of speaking to his sister but he didn't want to push boundaries.

"Zaevar told me about it," he answers to her. "If you want I don't need to call you that. I understand if that's your wish."

"No…you can." The smile that spread across her cheeks once more lit a small fire in him. He hoped he could make that smile spread much more often. He had a feeling she didn't do it so often. "I like how it sounds…it reminds me of my brother. Father or mother never called me that…but I like it."

Jon smiles softly. "Then I will continue to call you that as much as you want me to, Nesy." The moment he says it, he sees the little girl smile more.

"Now get some rest," Daenerys whispers to her, and Nesara nods softly. In a few seconds, she closes her eyes, and within moments, Jon could tell that she was asleep again. Daenerys steps out of the room and lets out a soft sigh before turning to the handmaiden that was standing there. "I'm sorry about that. I'm sure she scared you."

"It's alright…we knew it wouldn't be easy but we never predicted that." The girl looks at Jon. "How did you calm her down so easily?"

Daenerys raises an eyebrow softly and turns to him. "Yes, I was wondering the same."

Jon looks between the two of them before shrugging. "I don't know, I've had training. Dan has had nightmares in the past that I helped her get through, as well as you," he states, nodding to Dany, who was quiet. "I also grew up with a younger sister…these things scare young girls. It's up to us to learn how to comfort them until they can comfort themselves."

"Well, I have to applaud you. I've never seen a girl quiet down so quickly. Seems you were almost meant to do it," the handmaiden says with a smile, but it was wide. Jon could see the woman's eyes look him up and down and instantly he feels himself curl up a little.

Was this woman…admiring him?

Daenerys clears her throat from where she stood and offers a quiet nod to the woman. "We must get ready. I'm sure you will take care of the girl for as long as you can?"

The handmaiden nods. "You have my word."

"Good. Jon, let's go." She grabs his hand and begins to walk, but he could tell by her grip that there was something else going on, and he feels himself sigh softly.

It seems that as soon as life gave him something to fix there was always another problem that came his way. But he would talk with her about it, just as he normally did.

---

When they did arrive at their chambers, she still hadn't said anything. For a moment he thought he had royally screwed up and that he had done something really bad by talking to Nesara, but he didn't think it was bad. He had tried to comfort her – was that so wrong?

But when she closes the door and walks over to the bed, she turns to him, her arms crossed against her chest. "What was that?"

His brow furrows. "What was what?"

"That…that look she gave you."

"What look?" he chuckles a bit, raising his brow. She rolls her eyes and turns around, sitting at her desk to look at herself in the mirror so she could continue her hair. He realizes with a start what she was talking about and then a slow smirk begins to crawl onto his lip. "My gods…is the queen…jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," she instantly responds, her eyes narrowing into slits. "I just don't like when women who should have nothing to do staring at you…stare at you."

"That sounds like jealousy, Daenerys."

"I'm not jealous." The words roll off her tongue too easily, as her eyes turn around and look to the ground. "I told you, I just-"

"Don't want some woman looking at me. Got it," he responds, chuckling a bit. Her eyes make a connection with his in the mirror and he smiles gently at her. "Sounds a bit like when I lied and said you were my wife so the whole kingdom didn't go after you."

"Hey, I didn't lie," she replies, but her voice had dropped to barely an above whisper.

Jon quietly moves so that he was behind her, up until his hands rested on her shoulders. She glances up at him as he kneels down to where she sat, his brow furrowed. "Jealousy or not, you don't need to be. I don't know why you would ever think I would ever run off with someone else other than you."

Daenerys bites her lower lip, sighing. "I don't…I don't know, Jon. You've only ever been with two women and the way you've been acting lately…I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to…I guess experiment more?"

Jon raises his brow and then moves his hand to her chin, before pulling her in for a passionate kiss, one that spilled every emotion he was feeling into one for her. When he pulls back, his dark eyes connect with her green, seeing the uncertainty laced within her orbs. "Experiment more? Why would you think that?"

"You...you've been more possessive…I don't know, it's just a much different Jon than the man I met years ago."

"Daenerys, just because I want to cherish what is mine doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly go around and fuck every breathing woman on this earth. I'm not Tyrion Lannister." At the name, her face instantly drops into a frown, but he shakes his head, telling her quietly that, "it doesn't matter. You should know at this point that every part of me belongs to you – especially my body."

He leans in and presses another sweet kiss to her lips before pulling back. He sees a small smirk spread across her own. "And what if I don't want your body?" she whispers.

He shrugs and stands, walking over to the bed. "Your loss then, my queen."

She gapes at him from where she sat, which causes him to laugh. After a moment she closes her mouth and glances down at the brush in her hands, sighing. "I did want to ask you…the way you settled Nesara down. That was so quick. So easy."

"I told you, I've had practice," Jon reassures her as she places her brush down and stands, walking over to him. "When you have crying girls who have nowhere else to go, you have to be there for them. Same with little boys. I always hated parents who just let them cry in the darkness…they're scared for a reason but you refuse to nurse them because you want them to 'grow up quicker?' That will only give them issues down the road. I don't want to be that kind of father."

He turns his head back up to Daenerys and sees her staring at him with a lust-filled gaze, laced with desire. His brow raises in surprise.

"Do not tell me calming down a crying child turned you on."

She walks over to him and wraps her arms around his neck while she sunk herself onto his lap. He could feel her body easily through the robe she was wearing but held back doing anything. He knew they had places to go and people to see. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a heated session when someone could come knocking on their door at any moment.

"I'm not turned on by that," she whispers, leaning in and kissing his lips gently, sweetly, as if sucking on some delicious nectar of life. When she pulls back, she rests her forehead against his. "I'm turned on by the fact that you can be a father so easily…and that you already feel that way about Nesara to you."

Jon shrugs gently at her words. "Someone has to be…I can't let them go back to Aenar. Or to Saeresa…someone has to protect them…and Nesara needs that. I suppose I also must be used to taking care of girls…I did take care of Dan by myself for a long time."

"That is true," Daenerys murmurs before standing. He instantly misses the warmth she provided but doesn't say anything, knowing they needed to be quick after the day's events. "It's…it's just sweet to see you act the way you do with the children…really sweet."

He could hear the sadness in her voice, but before he could ask what was wrong, his eyes follow her hands as she presses them hesitantly against her stomach, a hopeless expression on her face. Jon stands and walks over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "I know what you're thinking. It's only been a month, Daenerys."

"What if it's not meant to be?" she asks, swallows slightly. "What if we're being selfish and…and Dan and Daemon are the only ones we get?" She turns back around to face him, tears brimming at the edge of her eyes. "I…I want to be able to give that to you, Jon."

"And if you can't, I've told you, it's not the end of the world," he whispers softly to her. "Please. You must believe me when I say this. I mean, look at us – if we do take the Galeron children in we'll practically already have five."

Daenerys smiles softly but she shakes her head. "It's…it's not the same, Jon." She walks over to the bed and sits down, letting her hands rest against her lap. "I do love those three. They've been through so much and all I want to do is see them smile, especially Nesara after what she went through…but I…I want to be able to give you another that is purely us…that can be by blood to Dan and Daemon…I'm so sick of this force regiment on royals for producing heirs, but for me, all I want is to be able to do that again. And I feel like…it's just not happening."

Jon looks at her softly. He hated seeing Daenerys cry. He had told her so many times at this point that he felt like the line was losing meaning. But he needed to figure out a way to calm her down. This was supposed to be a happy night. A fun on. And he wasn't about to let her own insecurities stop her from enjoying it.

"Do you remember when we were on the search for Daemon and the others, and I had a nice dream when I rested?" Daenerys quietly nods as he sits down next to him. He reaches over and grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers with his own. "In that dream, I woke up in a chamber by myself, but when I stepped out, there was this little girl who looked exactly like you and me." He sees a soft smile spread across her cheeks. "Her name was Lyanna. Maybe a few years old. Dan and Daemon were grown, and said they had been trying to distract her from waking me up – maybe sixteen or so."

"Sixteen?' she whispers.

"I'm not entirely sure but they looked to be about that. And then when I went to see you, I saw two other children, who looked like us. A boy and a girl. I didn't know their names, but they were there, playing in the hall, and I didn't have to look at them to tell they were ours. When I woke up, I knew I wanted that. I knew I wanted to have a family with you…and the dream felt so real that I know that part of it has to come true."

Her brow furrows gently. "Part of it?"

"Well…the children part," he admits quietly. "I…the dream took place in King's Landing. In the Red Keep." Her brow raises slightly, but not by much. She just seemed surprised he had a dream there. "I know…it's the last place I would want to remember either. But it didn't feel…like how it was back then. It felt like home. It felt like our home…and while I don't think we're going to be living in King's Landing anytime soon, I know the reason it felt like a home was that I had you, and I had the children…and I know right now it seems bleak and nothing seems to be happening…but I assure you, I have nothing but faith. It felt too real for it to mean nothing."

Daenerys' eyes follow his own before she brings a hand up to his cheek. "You always do know how to calm me down, don't you?"

He smiles softly. "Something you have to learn when your lover is the Mother of Dragons."

She chuckles, before pulling away after a moment. "Well…now I think is the perfect time for me to ask you about this." She turns her gaze back to his. "This…surprise you've been working on for the past month. Can you please just show me now? It would get my mind off things."

Jon smiles widely and stands. "It would be my pleasure. Close your eyes." Her brow raises but he persists. "Close them or no present."

Daenerys rolls her own but follows what he says, closing her eyes. He shuffles around the room, grabbing each piece he wanted to give her that was wrapped up and ready to go, before settling them down on the bed. After that, he looks over to her and squeezes her hand.

"You can open them now."

He watches as she does, and her eyes go straight to the packaging that was settled on top of the bed. Her brow furrows as she looks at him, clearly confused, but he nods at her, wanting her to continue. Daenerys walks over to the packaging and begins to untie some of the things from the bottom to the top.

When she opens the first package, she chuckles quietly, a smile spreading across her cheeks. They were personally made leather dress boots, a dark black, much like the ones she had worn whenever they would travel, that would be tied up. It even had the kind of heel she normally wore.

"How'd you know the heel?" she asks with a raised brow.

"It's not hard to figure out what kind of shoe you like when I live with you, Dany," he chuckles, before nodding towards the rest of the packages. "Keep going."

Daenerys smiles again and lowers the boots to the bed, before grabbing the next package in line. Her hands work around the string diligently before she finally undoes the paper. Her eyes widen in surprise at what it appeared to be – a cloak.

Except this one was different. While most of her cloaks had been one color – just for simplicity sake – this one was three. Red, black, and gold. The hemming was black fur, what she could assume to be from some animal that she had no idea lived in Valyria, while the red was lighter, almost like silk. And the gold stitching that was embedded into it was sewn into patterns that reminded her of her dragon. More specifically – Drogon. And the pattern laced all around the back, uniting with other smaller dragons around it – Visenya, Jorharion, and Jonarys.

"Oh, Jon," she whispers, turning her head to him. "This is beautiful. Where…where did you find the seamstress for this?"

"A kind old woman downtown – she was actually one of the commoners I've been helping rebuild her home following the lava. Her name is Vyana. Has been practicing her craft for years." He walks over and gently takes the cloak from her hands, laying it down on the table. "When trying to find the person to make these items, I didn't want just the castle seamstress. I wanted something special. And when I saw the types of dresses she had done, I knew she was it." He pushes the next package towards her. "Go for it."

Daenerys smiles again, this time even brighter, before her hand hands make fast work of this package, now wanting to see what was inside. As soon as she pulls it out, tears escape her eyes and she swallows, trying to stop the sob from edging away from her lips.

It was a beautiful dress that extended to the floor, a creamy white that reminded her of freshly fallen snow. But along the edges were little intricate stitching's in red that symbolized so many things in her life, like fire, smoke, the sun, the sand – each one speaking to her about something she had gone through. Everything was weaved together to make one beautiful design. She even saw that the sleeves of the dress were light on account of the heat of Valyria, and it sat off the shoulders while the cloak would cover it.

"This…how…?" She turns her head to him, words failing her.

"I wanted you to have the perfect coronation dress," he says to her gently, resting a hand on her back. "I know that sounds…I don't know, strange of me, but you never got to have one…it was taken from you." He could feel the regret edge back into his tone, but he pushes it down. "I figured now that we have a kingdom…you deserve the best. Each of the designs on the dress show something you've been through and how it took you to get here. Like the fire, for…obvious reasons. The sand was for your journey with the Dothraki across the Dothraki Sea. The sun for how you shine light onto people's lives, the smoke for how you rise from the ashes…I tried to tell her to be as detailed as she could without actually spelling out a story. And for the dragons, well…that deserved to be on the cloak as its own."

He rubs the back of his neck before looking down at her again.

"I don't know if maybe you had a handmaiden prepare something for you but I…I wanted to at least give you options, I suppose."

"Options?" she breaths, before chuckling. "This is the only option." She grabs all three items into her hands and turns to him. "I'm going to put them on. Stay here."

Jon smiles as she rushes off into the bathing chambers to change, sitting down on the bed. He was so glad she wasn't angry at him. When he had first started thinking of this idea, he knew he would have to be out of the castle a lot. And when she had brought it up earlier on in the day, it was only a matter of time before she started to show aggravation.

But he hoped that she was happy with what he did. When Taevar had first told him that a coronation was tradition, he had been against it just because he was never one for parties or festivals celebrating who he was. He preferred closer celebrations with the ones he loved rather than crazy feasts.

And then he realized that if he wasn't the hugest fan of it, it didn't mean that Daenerys wasn't. He knew that was something she had been craving for so long, only for it to be ripped away from her like that. So now, he wanted to give her the best night imaginable – because who knew if there would be another?

'You know there must be,' a voice whispers in his head.

Jon's brow furrows suddenly, standing. Gods, no. Not the bloody voices again. He was going to jump out of a fucking window if they started up again. It was always the same one, the one from the cliffs, or from the tent, or from when he first woke up after his second death. Why couldn't he just be normal and get visions in his dreams or some shit like that?

"I'm not doing this again," he mutters to himself, running his hands through his hair.

'You and she are meant to rule. To bring the light. To rule the realm. Embrace it.'

Jon glares at the ground, trying to push the voice out. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about anything. All he wanted was to be left alone and to focus on Dany. Before he could speak again, his eyes move up once he sees a figure appear out of the corner of his eye, and he froze in place.

The dress fit her absolutely perfectly in every single curve, and the cloak contrasted with her milky skin, the red color blending in wonderfully with the white fabric of the outfit. He brings a hand to his mouth as his eyes scanned her, shaking his head. Her brow furrows in surprise.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing is wrong," he whispers, his gaze meeting hers. "You just look absolutely stunning." He stands and walks over to her, seeing a blush spread across her cheeks. It was sweet that even after all this time, he could still make the dragon queen turn red. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

"I love it," she says, the smile spreading from cheek to cheek. "This is what you've been doing for the past month? Sneaking out and making these items?"

"I told you it would be a surprise," he says to her with a chuckle. She smiles as he pulls her over to the mirror, resting his hands against her waist. "And look, you look just as beautiful as I imagined you to be."

Daenerys smiles at him, turning her head to look over at where he stood. She leans up to press a kiss against his lips but he suddenly remembers the biggest gift of all and pulls back. Her brow furrows in confusion but he walks over to the bed, grabbing the last package. This one was a box shape and wrapped.

"I wanted to give this to you tonight but I suppose you should see it for the first time here." He hands it to her and she looks at him as if asking 'more?' He only nods at her to continue. So quietly, she starts to undo the packaging, until there was nothing left but a box that was wrapped in leather and encrusted with what looked like red jewels.

Daenerys moves her hands quietly to the spot where the box would open, and tipped the top over. Once it falls back, she stares in shock at what was in front of her, before bringing a hand to her mouth once more.

It was the exact crown she had described to him a month ago when they were still living in their home by the sea. It was a silver that reflected against the light of the room and wrapped around itself like a braid, before coming to a head at the front. Each little movement of the silver reminded her of a dragon's wing. And in the head, was the intricate design of a dragon's head, lit with tiny, almost invisible etchings of flames.

"Is it alright?" he asks her, worried about her reaction. "The rest of the plan came together after you told me about what kind of crown you like…I figured if we took over we can't have the same crown as them, but you described this to me and I tried to memorize it to heart. The blacksmith packed this up and had it delivered to the castle before we came back. That's why I stood in front of it."

She still hadn't said anything, just stared down at the piece of work in front of her. His worry started to grow.

"Are you alright? Is this okay?" he asks her.

Daenerys slowly lowers her hand, staring at the crown, before she suddenly turns and pushes him against the nearest wall. Before he could even ask what she was doing, her lips were on his, hungrily, wanting, needing. His arms wrapped around her tightly, surprised at her sudden ferocity, but intrigued at the same time.

When he pulls away after a moment, he was breathing heavily, staring at her. "What…what was that for?"

"For you being you," she whispers, her hands clutching at his shirt. "Everything you've done…you've done for me. Why?"

His brow furrows at her. "Why are you asking that?"

"I don't deserve this kindness. Not after how I treated you," she answers. "And yet you have been nothing short but the sweetest man alive and I…I love you, Jon."

His brow raises at her remark, the words hitting him straight in the gut. Had she just said those words? The ones he had been praying of hearing for he didn't even know how long now? He was shocked still, but she continued to speak.

"I love you. More than anything else in this world. And I can't believe that somehow, someway, I'm still able to hold you like this…that I get to witness this part of you…I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you," she whimpers.

"Stop saying that," he whispers softly to her, pushing his thoughts down. "You do. If anything, I don't deserve your love after what I did to you." His hands come up and cup her cheeks. "I want you to have the night of your life…don't think that you don't deserve it because you do. You have worked so hard for so long, and this is what it will pay off. You're going to be the Queen of Valyria. You're going to wear the crown you have wanted since you were a child. And I will be there, right next to you."

A stray tear escapes her eyes but he wipes it away, smiling at her. And then, she runs her hands through his hair before leaning up and kissing him again. It doesn't take long for it grow heated, her fingers pulling at his curls. He lets his hands wander down to where her dress was as he grips at her skin, feeling her moan against his lips. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue inside of her mouth, twisting with her own, fighting for dominance, a dance of passion.

He suddenly lifts her up and carries her over to the dresser, their lips still attached to one another, not caring about breathing for a second. His hands travel up to where her cheeks were once he settles her against the hard surface, her legs opening to allow him to come in between her legs. He pulls back for a second, staring at her, seeing her green eyes grow darker at his hardened arousal within his trousers.

"We…we can't do this," he says to her gently.

"Why not?" she whispers, gripping at his hands.

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door. "My king, we need to prepare you for the coronation!"

"That's why," he chuckles a bit, seeing her face fall at the voice. Usually, he would be all for something like this but he understood that their alone time wouldn't be much today. He hadn't even gotten dressed at all for today while she was ready to go. He didn't even know how this was going to happen.

But he knew that their own wants and needs couldn't stop them from doing what they had to do. Jon gently settles Daenerys back down to the ground, seeing her sigh in disappointment at the lost moment. He squeezes her hand and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Later," he promises her. After a second she nods, going along with what he said. He turns away and adjusts himself quietly, not wanting any of the handmaidens to see his obvious discomfort, but before he leaves, Daenerys calls out to him.

"You have something too." He turns to her with a raised brow. He watched as she settled out all the wrinkles in her clothing, adjusting her hair, but her eyes connected with his in the reflection of the mirror. "A surprise. Two. One for now and one for later. You're not the only one who can be secretive."

His brow raises in shock. "A gift for me?"

He only sees her smirk a little before moving her gaze back to her own reflection. "You'll see…but thank you for this, Jon…this was amazing. I can't wait to show everyone."

Jon smiles and nods softly. At that moment, he turns back around to open the chamber door. One handmaiden rushes in to take care of Daenerys' final touches while another pulls him out, shaking her head. "You're running late! We need to do this quickly!"

Jon chuckles softly as she pushes him down the hall to where his clothes would be, sparing one last glance at Daenerys getting ready before he would see her at the coronation downstairs. And then, within the blink of an eye, he was behind the doors and away from the rest of the world.

---

It took them a little less than a half-hour to get him prepared, but Jon had never been poked and prodded so much in his life – especially with his hair.

He had taken to wearing it down more often because Daenerys had told him she liked it better that way ever since their trip to Sothoryos, but each handmaiden that prepared him had tried to tame it the best that they could so they could fit a bloody crown over it. The rest of it had been a matter of getting him cleaned and into clothes quick enough.

He didn't think he ever wanted to see another bar of soap again in his life.

He was uncomfortable with what he was wearing a bit – he was getting quite used to the regular clothes he would wear on a daily basis and leather was not entirely too comfortable for the heat of Valyria – but it was a dark red and black, colors he didn't normally wear but did know they were their house colors. And he did look good – at least as good as he could.

His mind was more preoccupied with the fact that 'holy shit, this was happening.' It wasn't just a dream anymore, or a fantasy, or a wish. He and Daenerys were actually being crowned the rulers of Valyria. What they had worked towards…was happening. If someone had told him this would be his life before he went off to the Wall, he would have laughed in their faces.

But here he stood. A king. Well, nearly.

Would Robb be proud of him? He knew Arya would be – and Gods, he wished he could bring her hair. Maybe once the pathway was down he could and they could all travel back together. But his brother, Robb…the poor man who had let love define his life. Would he be proud of Jon and who he had become?

Then again, Jon had let his emotions guide where he was now. Where had duty and honor gotten him? A cold cabin out in the middle of the freezing North. It got him killed – twice. But love? He could now see why Robb had given in.

Love had given him her. Love had given him his children. And at the end of the day, love had given him this throne. If he didn't love Daenerys, would he really be here right now? Taking aim to rule over these people, who – to be honest – were more powerful than any nation he had ever met? No. It was love that guided him.

And he hoped that Robb would be proud – if not for his leadership, then taking care of his children.

The handmaiden brings him into a foyer where two guards are waiting to escort both he and Daenerys into the throne room, where everyone was now waiting for them. He could hear the talking of every civilian in there but knew it would quiet down the moment they opened the doors. As he turns his head, he feels himself stop and stare once more when a handmaiden brings Daenerys into the foyer with him. She steps away and walks into the throne room, closing the door behind her.

After a moment, he could hear the crowd begin to quiet down. Jon walks over to Daenerys and gently links his arm around hers, smiling. "Why are you staring at me again?" she chuckles. "You've already seen what I look like."

"Doesn't mean you're not as beautiful," he whispers to her. Daenerys smiles and moves closer to him as the doors begin to open.

"You look quite handsome yourself," she says softly as the entrance to the throne room is revealed. Candles were lit and banners hung in the renovated chambers, making the night all that much more magical. "I see the handmaiden's figured out a way to work with your hair."

He snorts and nods. "Indeed they did."

She turns her head to look up at him. "Did you see the first surprise?"

His brow furrows. "No. Were they supposed to show me?"

She curses and sighs. "I wanted you to see it…but I suppose you'll see it on the alter." Before he could ask what she was talking about, the guards come forward behind them.

"It is time, my king and queen," Magar says from behind them. Jon looks at Daenerys, who was smiling so brightly she looked like the stars in the sky and squeezes her hand. With that, they look forward and begin to walk into the throne room with Magar and Laemon behind them, their swords at the ready in case something happened.

The dragonlords sat at the bottom, all saying hello and smiling, looking excited for a fresh change. Jon could see Taevar at the front with his wife next to them and their child at their feet, the little boy's eyes widened in delight. Jon could see Daenerys looks up at the commoners who sat above them in the high seats, all either waving to them, some saying 'bless you!' and others sitting, probably waiting for the free food they would receive from the festival. He didn't blame them. He was like that sometimes too.

He turns and looks to see both Dan and Daemon sitting at the very front. Daemon did look tired – he didn't blame the boy – but he was proud of him for coming down to see them. Dan, on the other hand, was absolutely beaming and was sure he would hear a mouthful from her later on. Both Mae and Zaevar sat behind them, both of which seemed excited. He noticed that Mae was wearing the dress that Daenerys had made for her, and could see the happiness in the girl's eyes.

He didn't think he had ever seen her so happy.

He was glad that they were supportive of the decision of him and Daenerys taking over, but he knew it was only for the best. He would never let their parents see the light of day, ever again.

They walk to the front, and Jon smiles when he realizes that it was indeed Kinvara who was standing there with Vamon, both holding the boxes that contained the crowns for which would be placed upon their heads. He hadn't known the red priests were the ones who crowned new rulers, but it didn't surprise him considering the reason Valyria even still existed was because of them.

"My queen," Kinvara states softly, bowing her head, and then she turns to Jon, doing the same. "My king."

Vamon steps forward and looks out into the crowd, beginning to speak in Valyrian. It was times like this Jon forgot he even understood it when he could so clearly hear what they were saying, but it was just another random gift he was thankful to receive since finding Dany again.

'My people,' Vamon starts. 'The citizens of Valyria, the ones who have lasted beyond despair, doom, and pain and suffering. We have lived in the same ruling age for centuries. The same family for decades. And it is time we bring about change – a new family. A new age. The age of the Targaryen's!'

The throne room begins to cheer. Jon could see Daenerys trying to suppress a smile and remain stone-faced for the coronation, but even he was finding it hard. Vamon raises his hand and the room instantly begins to quiet, watching intently.

'It is a custom tradition that with each new ruler, we ignite them. And for you, King Jon and Queen Daenerys, we will do as such.' Vamon closes his eyes, whispers in Ancient Valyrian, and then the room begins to glow brighter. At that moment, someone begins to chant a song in the same language. Jon looks around as more people begin to join in, as does Daenerys.

The people above and the dragonlords below all begin to unite, their hands clinging onto the other, some resting on the shoulders of the people next to them, all chanting the same song. It grew louder and produced more harmonies as the song continued, and the flames only glowed brighter with each different set joining in.

He watched as the united of hands came to the front, seeing his children and the Galeron's all take hold, chanting the song. They must have learned it without them knowing. The flames were at the brightest at the peak of the song, the whole entire throne room now chanting, eyes closed, united as one as the voices singled out. And within moments, the song ended, the flames strong.

He looks over at Daenerys, who stood in shocked silence. 'That was beautiful,' she whispers.

At that moment, he turns his head back to where Vamon stood, who now had his eyes open. 'The song of our ancestors – the unifying spirit of Valyria. We perform it at every coronation to unify the rulers of Valyria with the people they serve. Now, you are one with the Valyrian's, and will bring them to peace and happiness.'

He turns to Kinvara, who held Daenerys' crown box in her hands, nodding at her. They both turn around and open up the boxes. Jon watches as Kinvara comes over with the crown he had made for Daenerys, and he turns his gaze back over to where Vamon stood with his. But when he saw what it was, he stilled.

It was the description she had given for him a month ago. The same crown Daenerys pictured him in.

It was of pure gold, with a dragon head in the middle, just as she had talked about, but along the edges were direwolf prints, small ones that he could see, showing off his other part of him. He could feel himself smiling before looking over at Daenerys. She raises an eyebrow at him, a look that said 'and you thought you could be the only one that did surprises.'

"My king?" Vamon asks him, breaking him from his trance. "Are you ready to proceed?"

"Yes, I'm sorry…first time seeing the crown," he admits cheekily, turning around. He could see Daenerys trying hard not to laugh at his reaction but he couldn't help it. It was perfect. She had gotten every detail down to the head at the front. He had been terrified of his own crown he had given to her, only for her to be working on her own for him? The little minx.

He watches as Vamon and Kinvara both raise the crowns, and as they do, the people around them stand. Vamon begins to chant as they did.

'May the good mother nurse you into your kingdom. May the good father protect you from the evils of the world. The Lord of Light has chosen you – and you alone, to guide us from the dark, and will follow you into the light.'

Jon could feel the weight of the crown on his head once Vamon placed it on him. He imagined a different feeling when he would but for some reason, it almost felt…natural. It didn't feel too heavy or light. It sat there, completely unmoved. And when he looked over at Daenerys, he could see hers fit just perfectly.

Then again, she was meant to wear a crown. This was all new to him.

'We now proclaim you, King Jon and Queen Daenerys of Valyria, the Bringers of Light, and the Protectors of the Dragon. May you unite the world under your rule!' Vamon takes a step back. 'Long may they reign!'

'Long may they reign!' the crowd repeats after them, before cheering and clapping. The energy of everyone in the room, from the dragonlords to the fire mages, to the healers and the commoners above made the torches shine brighter than Jon had ever seen. He looks over at Daenerys and sees the smile that spread across her face at the sound of the crowd before she looks over at him.

He reaches over and grabs her hand in his, holding it tightly. They had done it. They had won over Valyria. How it had happened, a part of him still didn't know. All he did know was that the love of his life was next to him, happy, and his children were safe.

And as he stood there, looking at all the people who were cheering for them, he couldn't help but feel his own smile spread across his lips.

---

The festival that followed the coronation was filled with music and laughter, complete with dancing and eating. Jon and Daenerys sat at the head, occasionally getting up to speak with people, but most of the time staying with their family. Dan and Daemon had joined them to eat, as people would come up and give them well wishes.

Jon, although he could see Daenerys was enjoying, kept his eyes peeled for anything that might be out of the ordinary. The last time they had a festival like this, Arya had snuck in and nearly killed Daenerys. The last thing he wanted was for something like that to happen now.

When people would leave and go down to the floor to speak to the others, Jon would converse with Daenerys, seeing her smiling about the simplest of things. She had a drink in her hand and a smile on her face. This was probably one of the happiest times he had seen her.

With people that supported her, loved her, and now she had what she wanted.

"Father?" Jon turns his gaze to see Dan and Daemon standing there, waiting for him.

"What is it, my little wolf?" he asks softly.

Dan rolls her eyes. "You're still going to call me that even now that you rule a dragon-infested nation?"

"Dan, what is it?" he chuckles, looking at his daughter.

Dan turns to Daemon, who nods excitedly. "Daemon wants to see the dragons and Zaevar said he could bring us to them tonight. Would we be able to?"

Jon's brow raises in surprise as he looks at his children before looking at Zaevar and Mae, who stood behind. "I…do think that's a good idea," Jon says quietly, turning back to his children. "But I don't think tonight is the best time to do it."

"But this night is supposed to be about you," Daemon points out quietly. "It's your coronation."

"It's our family's coronation," Jon responds. "It wouldn't look so great if the children of the king and queen suddenly escaped the room to go play with dragons." Dan rolls her eyes but sighs, nodding.

"I guess…I just want Daemon to see what we've been seeing."

"He will. Tomorrow." He glances behind him to see Daenerys still speaking with one of the commoners, so he quietly turns his gaze back to Dan. "You're feeling alright after…what you found out? You too, Daemon?"

Dan shrugs and looks at her brother. "I don't mind what happened to him as long as he's okay now," Dan answers softly, grabbing her brother's hand. Daemon lets out a small smile at her words. "I'm starting to feel like dying is a right of passage in this family. Maybe I should look out."

"No," Jon instantly states, closing his eyes. He hated to think of that. "Don't even joke about that." He rests his hand against Daemon's shoulders. "Are you sure you're okay to be down here?"

Daemon sighs softly. "I'm…alright. I don't feel terrible. But I knew I need to come to see you." He looks over at Dan. "Besides, I can't let her have all the fun after this last month of training with Zaevar…I have to show him who's better."

Zaevar snorts from where he stood, overhearing the conversation. Dan laughs and nudges her brother's side. "You'll be training again with us in no time."

Jon smiles as his children laugh. This was what he wanted to see. He had missed seeing his son and daughter acting so kind and sweet with each other. He knew the moment Dan and Daemon met that they would get along well, seeing how Daemon had been acting lately worried him. But he was glad that now that he told them about what happened, he seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He wondered if Daemon had told Dan about what he could do now…Jon could still barely wrap his own head around it. But that would be on Daemon's time to speak of it.

He looks behind him at the Galeron children, before gesturing for them to come closer. "Zaevar, Mae." The two children look up before walking over to them. "How are you two? Are you feeling alright?"

Zaevar speaks first. "I'm doing good. It was cool to see the chant in the throne room before. I never got to witness it."

"Is that really a common tradition here?" he asks them.

"Yes," Mae answers. "It's sort of a way of unifying all of the dragons into one collective roar – in the words of our ancestors. So much hatred can come from people who are against each other, but when we're together, we're stronger."

And wasn't that the motto of his life now?

"I agree," Jon says with a smile. "And your dress, Mae. Daenerys had it made for you – do you like it?"

"I love it!" Mae exclaims, smiling brightly, while Zaevar chuckles where he stood. "I've never had anything like this. The colors are beautiful and it's so pretty."

Jon chuckles. "Good. She wouldn't stop talking about it for ages and wanted to make sure you had the perfect coronation dress." Mae smiles widely before descending down the step she was on and wraps her arms around him tightly. Jon looks at her in surprise but does the same, embracing her. When she pulls back, his brow was furrowed. "What was that for?"

"I'm sorry if it was inappropriate since you're the king now but…I'm just really thankful for what you have done. Both you and the queen."

Zaevar grabs his sister's shoulder, nodding. "We hope you two do a better job than…" His voice trails off, but they knew what he meant. And that had been Jon's plan from the beginning.

"I swear to you, we will," he answers. Zaevar nods, accepting of his answer. Jon turns his gaze back to him. "I do have a request of you." He looks at the rest of the children. "All of you."

Dan's brow furrows. "What?"

"There is a certain someone who is awake upstairs," Jon starts. He waits for the reactions of the children before they realize who he was talking about. Mae's eyes begin to well up and Zaevar stares at him in shock. "She only just woke up an hour or two ago, but she's awake and healthy."

"Did…did she say anything about me?" Daemon asks quietly.

"She actually asked if you were okay," Jon says, looking at Daemon. "And I reassured her that you were. Nesara is alive and she wants one thing." He looks back to the others, all of them waiting with bated breath for what he would say. "…and that would be cake."

Mae snorts and laughs while Zaevar shakes his head, his shoulders shaking. "I knew I liked her for a reason," Dan chuckles.

"It's a very important mission," Jon states, trying to act seriously, but seeing the smiles on the children's faces made it quite hard. "I need you four to sneak up to that banquet table and take as much cake as you want – some for yourself and some for Nesara – and go up there and give it to her, because Gods know she needs it after what she went through."

"Of course!" Mae agrees, smiling wide. She grabs Zaevar's hand, ushering him away to go and see their fully awake sister. Dan looks to Daemon, who seemed a bit excited that Nesara was awake.

"I have to tell father something – I'll meet you at the table!" Daemon nods and runs off, eager to join them in their quest for cake. Dan turns to look at Jon and rubs the back of her neck. "I, uh…wanted to say I'm really happy for you, father."

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I…you started out this whole journey in the middle of the North doing Gods knew what. We did…and now we're here. And you're…happy." She bites her lip and glances at the ground. "I never told you this but you scared me when we were with Uncle Tormund…I loved you and I always will but I…the way you acted with people made me think you weren't…I don't know, happy, I guess. I'm just glad you're here now and that you're happy. And I can't wait to see what you and mother do."

Jon stares at his daughter with his shoulders dropped. "I had no idea you felt this way," he says to her softly, to which she quietly nods. "Dan, the only thing I was focused on back then was you. If I seemed unhappy, it was only because I doing my best to keep you alive." He pulls her close to him and grabs her hand. "But we have more now, not just I. You gained a brother, a mother, friends, and family…I think this worked out well for the both of us, huh?"

Dan smiles a bit and nods. "I think so too," she whispers.

Jon presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, thanking the Gods above that they gave him as precious of a daughter as Dan was, before letting her go. "Now go and grab some cake. I'm sure Nesara is waiting."

Dan laughs and nods, running off to go join the rest of the children. Jon grins as he stands, moving back over to where he had been sitting with Daenerys a moment prior. She turns to him from her conversation with a commoner once they left, her brow furrowed. "Is everything alright?" she asks, seeing his wide smile.

"I just love our children," he says softly, sitting back down. Daenerys smiles at his statement, taking a seat next to him.

"Well that's sudden," she chuckles, taking a sip of her wine. He had been keeping an eye on it for the last hour or so. This was maybe her fourth cup – but he wasn't about to stop her from enjoying herself. Daenerys had never been one for drinking, but it was a celebration. "What did they do to make you say that?"

"They're just so understanding," he says quietly, looking over at her. "I don't know how we made such perfect ones." He reaches over and grabs her free hand. "I'm glad we did."

Daenerys smiles from her cup and places it down, as she squeezes his hand in hers. When he pulls back, he takes a sip from his own goblet.

"I see you're starting to take on surprises as well," Jon states, raising his brow. Daenerys snickers from where she sat, knowing what he was speaking of. "How long were you planning on having that crown made?"

"For a long time," she answers, looking back over at him. "While you went out of the castle to have your gifts done I tried to stay in to help as much as I could on the internal affairs – but I still wanted to gift you something that I knew would mean something, so I enlisted Taevar to get me the best blacksmith – well, I suppose you know the man. I had never personally met him until I saw you there with him – he made your crown as well."

Jon's brow raises. "So he kept that a secret from me?"

"Turns out you don't know everything," she points out, smirking from where her lips sat on her goblet. Jon snorts, shaking his head. He couldn't believe Daenerys of all people had pulled that over him. Working from the inside-out.

"You played me at my own game," he chuckles, turning to her. "But I do love it."

Daenerys' smile softens as she lowers her goblet again. "I…wanted to make it good." She moves her seat over to where he sat, holding his hand in hers. "I know you said you had my crown made because I never got to have one – but you were actually a king and never had one yourself. So now you can officially say you've had a crown while being king." She brings her hand up to his head, fixing it slightly against his hair. "And might I say, you look quite handsome in it."

"Ah, I do, do I?" he teases.

Daenerys chuckles as she pulls her hand back. "Thank the Gods for that because it was the only way I could get it to fit over your head of hair – and your thick skull."

Jon stares at her in surprise while she laughs. "I can't blame you," he answers. "The handmaidens did have trouble with it." He turns his head over to her once more, smiling a bit. "But thank you, Daenerys…I wasn't expecting this. It's beautiful."

Daenerys smiles, grabbing his hand gently. "You don't have to thank me, Jon." She lowers her goblet. "Besides – there's still one other surprise you need to see. That's when you can thank me."

Before he could ask what she was talking about, an older woman dressed in a simple gown comes up to the table. Jon immediately stands, coming over to her. Daenerys looks at him, clearly surprised at his reaction to help the woman walk up the steps to see them, but stands all the same to greet her.

"My queen," the woman says softly. Her voice was strained and had years layered onto it, probably from what she had witnessed in her lifetime. Jon brings her forward as she bows her head to him. "My king."

"Gods, you know you don't have to call me that," he chuckles a bit, before turning his gaze to a questioning Daenerys. "Dany, this is Vyana, the woman who made your dress, shoes, and cloak."

"Oh!" Daenerys exclaims. "Gods, that makes sense. I was wondering why he arose so quickly – you're the mastermind behind this beauty."

"Don't flatter me, my queen. It was only an act of duty."

"An act of duty that resulted in a wonderful ensemble." She reaches out and grabs the woman's hands tightly in hers. "Truly, you are one of the best seamstresses I have ever seen. The way you were able to weave some of my story into this…amazing."

"Well, I had a pretty good storyteller," Vyana states, her eyes moving to Jon.

Jon only shrugs. "Guilty."

"Well, you did a fantastic job," Daenerys reassures, smiling at her. "I don't know how I could ever repay you – or Jon for that matter. Would you like a room in the castle or-?"

"I don't need any form of payment," the woman says with a smile. "I just need a promise."

Jon's brow furrows as does Daenerys'. "What promise?" Jon asks quietly.

"That you will rule Valyria well," she says, her eyes looking to both of them. "There are many people like me who have lasted a long time and seen rulers of that family come and go. And nothing has changed for Valyria. We want a new world…or at least the younger ones do. I know I won't last too long, but the people that you will seek over will. You're young – even if you have children. You have a long life ahead of you. And I hope that you promise to rule them right."

Daenerys grabs the woman's old hands, holding them tightly. "That we can promise you." Jon nods to affirm what she says, squeezing her shoulder. Vyana nods and then steps back.

"Then I will do whatever you wish, my queen. And thank you, for bringing us a new day. Long may you reign."

"Thank you," Daenerys says, smiling at her as Jon helps the woman down the stairs. Once she was successfully on solid ground she goes off. Jon watches as she walks over to another family filled with little ones and older people, which he assumed was her family.

When he turns back to Daenerys, he could see her sitting back down in her throne, looking a bit sullen. Jon's brow furrows as he reaches over and grabs her hand. "What is it?" he asks her gently.

"I'm just…nervous," she admits, looking over at him. "I've never been scared to rule before but now…it feels like I'm guiding my ancestors, not just people. What if we…I mean, what if something happens, Jon? I want to do right by these people…all of them. After everything they've been through."

"And we will," he reassures her. She still seemed a bit conflicted, looking down at her goblet of wine. Jon bites his lip and leans back in his own throne.

It felt strange to sit on, but he knew it was what needed to be done. They had remade them up to look better than the horrid yellow ones the queen and king had before, now a solid red with gold tracings and embellishments along the edge of the wood and iron – Dany's idea, of course – but no king or queen ever sat comfortably on a throne, no matter what it looked like.

"Do you remember when we first met?" he asks her gently.

Daenerys laughs quietly, looking over at him. "You mean the moment I knew you were the more stubborn man alive? Yes, I do." Jon chuckles a bit but nods, knowing he needed to hear that.

"Alright, you got your jokes out," he states, smiling softly at her. "But do you remember what you said?" Daenerys quietly nods, but she doesn't speak. "You made it through what you went through because of faith, but not in gods or myths or legends. Through yourself. And now, you need to have faith that what we are doing right now is meant to be. Have faith in yourself. Have faith in us."

Daenerys takes his hand, holding it in her own. "You say you don't have a way with words," she chuckles, looking over at him. "And yet you use my own against me?"

"Not against you – to fuel you. Because it's true. I know you're meant to rule – me, I don't know how much I can do, but I know I'm meant to be by your side and to aid you as much as I can. And no matter what, we're going to do this. Together."

Daenerys smiles softly, leaning back in her throne, watching the party. "That day…I swear I don't think I was ever so angry at someone."

He chuckles a bit. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you were so stubborn," she snickers, looking over at him. "No matter what I said, you wouldn't bend. You wouldn't listen. I felt like I had brought a man over here for no reason…but you did interest me. From the very start." His brow raises at her statement and she only shrugs. "You forget that you're good-looking, Jon. I wasn't the only one who noticed it."

To that, he was quiet, looking back out into the crowd. "I knew then, too."

She turns her head. "Knew what?"

He looks over at her. "That something was going to happen between us. Whether that was an alliance, friendship…or something more. Even if we were both acting like children." He glances back at the crowd. "I also didn't expect to see the way that you looked either."

Daenerys raises an eyebrow. "And what did you expect to see, might I ask?"

"A horrible woman who was evil," he states bluntly, looking over at her. "I expected a dragon queen – someone who instilled fear. But all I saw was a strong woman in need of help to take back what was hers – a beautiful woman at that." He shakes his head and chuckles. "Davos made fun of how I stared at you all the time – the bloody man had it out for me."

Daenerys laughs at that, but she doesn't let go of his hand, holding onto it tightly. Not for a second.

---

Time passed and the festival of the coronation was reaching late into the night.

The children had gone to bed and many of the commoners had left to go home and make sure they were ready for the next day, but the dragon lords, as well as the king and queen, were still very much awake.

Jon had seen his children and the Galeron's go out through the door a few hours earlier, so he assumed that they were still with Nesara, or asleep. He didn't mind though. He was glad that they had gone to be with the child instead of going out and flying dragons.

A part of him was nervous for what would happen when Dan and Daemon did want to ride dragons. He knew that it would happen eventually, but even he was still getting used to it. He didn't know what would happen when the children wanted to do it. And what would happen if they fell off? Or something else like that?

He knew Zaevar had ridden a dragon for a while now from talking with Dan, so maybe he could give them a few pointers on how to ride successfully, but for now, he was content with them going up to Nesara's chambers.

As he sat at the front, finishing off a glass of wine, he could see so many people having fun and dancing. It made him smile that their coronation could bring so much happiness. Daenerys was speaking to some of the women, a smile on her cheeks, before she turns back to him. He saw a look on her face, one that instantly made him raise an eyebrow.

He knew that look.

She turns back to the woman and says goodbye before rushing up to where he stood, taking a seat next to him in her throne. "I believe this was a successful festival," she says with a smile, looking over at him. "But I think there were two more things I wanted to do with you."

His brow furrows at her words. "Two more? I thought there was only one?"

Daenerys smiles a little and places her goblet down. He knew she was tipsy now. Her speech wasn't slurred but she was quite happy and bubbly – something he knew she was when she drank from their time together. "I do – but there's another thing I want you to claim."

Before he could ask what she was referring to, he sees a guard come over. "Your grace, it is ready."

Daenerys smiles and stands, bidding the man goodbye. She looks to Jon and raises her glass. He looks at her in surprise as the rest of the dragon lords in the room do so. He scans the area and sees that Taevar and his wife, Lysandra were still there, both with wine.

"My people," Daenerys starts. "While this night has been nothing short of unforgettable, I must admit that I am growing tiresome and wish to retire with my husband." Jon still felt himself smile a bit whenever she said that. One day… "But I didn't want this night to end without saying my sincere thank you. Our sincere thank you's. We know that we weren't the leaders you thought you would have, but we are grateful that you picked us. And from now until our end, we will serve you with only the best, and make sure that Valyria lives on. To Valyria!"

"To Valyria!" the rest of the room chants, taking a swing of their drinks. Jon raises his own as well, impressed at her quick speech before placing his back down. Daenerys lowers her goblet and turns to the crowd again.

"The guards will escort you out to the courtyard where you can continue your festivities, but for now we must go to sleep. Thank you all."

They begin to clap and cheer before they all settled out. Jon looks at Daenerys, surprised at how quick she cleared out the room. Whatever this was, she wanted it done now.

Once most were out, Daenerys grabs Jon's hand, nodding to the guards. "We will be going to our chambers now."

The guard nods and leads them down, her holding his hand. He looks at her, clearly confused. "What is happening, Dany?"

"You'll see."

Those were her only words before they settled on the outside of their chamber doors. Once they were there she turns to the guard.

"We are not to be disturbed under any circumstances."

The guard nods and steps away and down the hall. Jon raises his brow at her words, but before he could ask, she pulls him inside, closing the door behind her. Once she was in there, he crosses his arms against his chest.

"Alright, now you have to tell me."

Daenerys walks over to him and gently takes off the crown that had been sat atop her head. She looks down at it with a fond smile before placing it on the dresser close to him. "Your gift…meant everything to me. And I hope that my crown that I made for you meant the same." She gently removes his own crown, smiling softly at his expression of tenderness. "But…I didn't want to just make you a crown."

His brow furrows as she places his crown on the dresser next to hers, before turning back to him. "What do you mean? What is it?"

Daenerys steps away from him and then shows him the view of their bed. At first, nothing looks out of the ordinary, but then he sees it.

A sword-shaped scabbard. One that was very large.

He approaches the bed and holds it in his hands. It was heavy, but it felt about the same weight as Longclaw was. And when he unsheathes it, he stares at the sword in shock.

It was just as long as Longclaw but had a sharp blade, and at the hilt were two dragon heads that stuck out to form where his hand would be. Down to the handle, it was a black stone, and at the very end was a red gem, one that reminded him of the fire in the torches they lit in the castle. This looked freshly made.

"…do you like it?" Jon could hear the anxiety in Daenerys' voice as she asked the question, her brow furrowed. She stood over in the corner, biting her lip, waiting for him to respond. Jon turns his gaze back to her, finally tearing it away from the sword in his hands.

"What…how…how did you make this?"

Daenerys smiles softly. "So you do know about Blackfyre."

"Of course I know about bloody Blackfye," he chuckles, almost incredulously. He was still shocked that this was in front of him. "Daemon told me everything about it when we were researching Dark Sister when I made your sword…but I didn't think there could ever been enough reformed Valyrian steel to make it again. I thought it was lost after Bittersteel…how did you find this?"

"I…didn't." She comes forward, resting a hand on the hilt. "I still do not know where the whereabouts are of the original swords. I'm beginning to think they must have been destroyed years ago. But after what you did for me with Dark Sister…I knew I had to do the same for you once the time came."

"But…how much Valyrian steel did they have left over?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Jon, you forget where we are ruling. There was no 'reforming.' This is pure Valyrian steel."

His shock only continued to grow. "They…the way of making it is not lost?"

"To the rest of the world, the secret to Valyrian steel is lost. But in here, it's very much alive. They only use it for weapons – hence why you didn't know considering you were only focusing on the crown the past month." She looks up at him. "It's dragon fire, Jon. They infuse the iron with dragon fire, which makes it so incredibly sharp and able to withstand heat."

"No…not magic?" he asks. He had heard for years there was magic involved with Valyrian steel, but had never believed it. But there were also a million different things he didn't believe back then now that he did believe in now.

"As far as I could tell, no," she chuckles. "I watched him begin to forge it one day when you were in the castle. It was an old dragonlord that did it. Not the same blacksmith that I used for the crown. He used his dragon to breathe fire into the steal. It takes a very long time for it to reach a point where it can be at its sharpest, which is why I waited until tonight to show you."

Jon stares at the sword, still shocked still. He couldn't believe she had this made for him - actually forged with dragon fire. He looks down at Daenerys. "I…I can't keep this…I have Longclaw, and it's meant to go to someone in House Targaryen-"

"You are House Targaryen," she whispers, before moving him so he stood in front of the mirror. "I know you have Longclaw. I'm not telling you to give it up. That sword has been with you through everything. But this is a gift to you. Something to use if Longclaw fails. Something to show who you are." She stands beside him in the mirror, looking at his reflection while he held Blackfyre in his hands. "What do you see, Jon?"

Jon looks at himself and then down at her. "I see a gorgeous woman."

"Stop," she chuckles, rolling her eyes. "I mean in yourself, Jon. What do you see?"

"I…I see a changed man," he says simply, looking at himself.

"Exactly," she continues, grabbing his free hand with hers. "I see a man who has done everything to prove himself worthy of holding this sword. I know you are meant to wield it – just as you made me Dark Sister, I want you to take Blackfyre. You are a Targaryen, Jon – and you're becoming a great one. And you deserve to have everything that the men and women who came before you had."

Jon looks at Daenerys, searching for any doubt in her eyes, but all he saw was trust. "Thank you, Daenerys…I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"You don't need to repay me," she whispers, resting her hands against his cheeks. "Just stay with me. Love me and be with me – that's all I ask."

"Then that's a wish I can grant," he murmurs before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. When he pulls back, he places the sword down, staring at it. "I can't believe it…we have the power to make Valyrian steel again."

Daenerys smiles from where she stood. "It is a pretty amazing ability, is it not?"

Jon turns to her, before remembering what she had said in the throne room. "You mentioned me claiming two things?" he asks quietly. "I'm assuming Blackfyre was the first…what was the other?"

"Ah, yes, I did say that," she murmurs, before pushing him down gently on the bed. "Wait there. I'll be right back."

Jon nods, watching as she walked off into the bathing chambers for a moment. He supposed there was a gift in there she had been hiding. He still couldn't believe she had done something like this. All for him. It astounded him.

It was amazing. After everything they both had been through, they truly were a team now. And it felt good to know she cared about him as much as he cared about her.

He looks down at the sword, admiring the detail of every single aspect of it. The indents of designs within the handle, the secure grip around the edge – everything had been thought out to detail. And he was the lucky man who was able to actually hold it. Daenerys had made this for him.

Seven hells.

He sees her shadow appear from where the bathing chambers were a moment later and he places the sword back down. "Sorry, just admiring the-"

His words stop instantly when he sees Daenerys leaning against the door to the chambers, as nude as her name day, standing there with her hair undone and with that fucking smirk on her face that made his cock jump in arousal. Her arms were crossed against her chest, but he could still see the milky skin of her breasts.

"Just a man and his toys?" she chuckles, walking over to him slowly. He watches her with hooded eyes, lust enveloping his body. The way she moved was almost like an invitation – a message. 'Come and get me.'

"I…thought there was something else?" he asks her once she sat between his legs, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"There is." She leans down close, so close that she was right next to his ear, and whispers, "I want you to claim me, my king."

His brow raises at her forwardness but who was he to stop her from getting what she wanted? "I'm quite sure I've already claimed that about a hundred times, my queen," he murmurs to her. She leans down, her forehead pressed against his own.

"No, this time I want you to claim me as the king you are," she whispers. "I want you, Jon Targaryen, King of Valyria, to claim me as your queen – because I've been wanting to fuck you since before the coronation and this outfit certainly hasn't helped."

Jon laughs as she pulls at his shirt. He had to admit it was quite tight on him and didn't leave much to the imagination. He wouldn't mind taking it off for her. So, he wraps his arms around her body and pulls her into his lap, feeling her melt against him as their lips collided.

Their kisses grow passionate by the second, her hands clinging to his body like a prayer, like if she let go he would disappear. But he wasn't going anywhere. And he never planned on doing that ever again. They travel down to his tunic and practically rips it off of him, throwing it to the ground.

"Dany," he chastises.

"Don't care," were her quick words before her lips were attached back to his, her hands roaming up and down his toned chest while his own sat at her hips, keeping her steady on him.

He trails his fingers down to her sex, feeling her shiver when they ghost around already aching cunt, begging for something. He moves his hands to right where her clit was, and slips one finger inside of her, feeling her gasp softly against his mouth.

"Seven hells," he whispers, looking up at her. "You've been this wet this whole time?"

"…I really wish the handmaiden didn't interrupt us earlier," she states quietly, her cheeks turning red.

But that only fuels him on. His lips attach back to hers with vicious ferocity, while he started to move his fingers in and out of her, inserting one digit after another. It became too much for her at some point and she pulls back, her forehead resting against his own, gasping his name.

"Jon – fuck, Jon," she whimpers. Her fingernails were clawing into his skin, her body lurching forward, begging for a release. He moves his head away from hers and starts to place kisses down her neck while his movements with his hands slow down. He could almost feel her aggravation at the loss of contact, but she was still very much into what he was doing.

With each kiss he placed on her skin, he lurched his fingers inside of her, causing her to moan in pleasure with each one. The first one had her back arched, her head tilted up. The second one made her move forward, holding onto him tightly, while the third had her groaning.

When she starts to shake, he begins to move his fingers harder against her, bringing a thumb up to rub her clit. She screams out his name, her warm velvety walls sinking onto his fingers, sweat beading down her skin. Jon takes this moment to dip his head low and take one of her breasts into his mouth, his tongue swirling around her hardened nipple.

"Gods, ȳdra daor keligon!" she exclaims, her body riding against his hand. As he looked up at her, he was mesmerized. This was a sight he always wanted to see, Daenerys panting, begging for release on top of him. He never thought he would be so lucky again to witness it.

"Māzigon syt nyke," he growls against her skin, and that was enough for her to ride out her wave of bliss, shaking in his arms, her body quivering with pleasure. Her eyes opened, filled with lust, and she stares at him as he picks her up into his arms, pressing his lips against hers.

He suddenly throws her onto the bed without warning, and she stares up at him, clearly shocked at the sudden roughness. But he only smirks down at her and starts to remove his pants, letting his hardened cock free of its confines.

"You wanted me to fuck you like a king?" he murmurs. "Then that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Daenerys grins up at him as he climbs on top of her, his lips latching onto hers once more. He wraps his arms around her body, feeling her hands run through his hair, while his own started to roam around. He kisses her all over, from her neck down to right above her chest, right where the wound was that he had inflicted on her.

But instead of speaking about it this time, he places a soft kiss right on top of it, feeling her shiver at his touch. After a moment, he pulls back, staring down at her. The moonlight streamed through the window caressing her body in a warmth he didn't know possible.

"Gods, you are so beautiful," he says, taking the moment to admire the goddess that he had in front of him, from the swell of her breasts to the curves of her hips. She blushes at his gaze,but doesn't move her eyes away from his. He pulls her up gently. "Come here, ñuha jorrāelagon."

Daenerys does so, as he moves her right on top of him, pressing her soaking core against his length, another soft moan escaping her lips, the ones that enchanted him every single time he looked at them.

He lurches up in response, urging the tip of his cock towards her entrance, wanting to be buried deep inside of her. Daenerys sunk down on him inch by inch, taking her time with that same knowing smirk on her lips. "Fuck, Dany," he groans, his eyes closing as pleasure surrounded him. It was amazing how she still managed to take his breath away no matter how long they had known each other.

They way they fit together was something unimaginable. They had coupled plenty of times before but the feeling of being inside her still shocked him to his core and he could never get enough of it. He started to pump up against her, not even taking his time getting rough, watching as her breasts rose and fall with the rhythm. His hand comes up and reaches around one while the other keeps her steady with his thrusts, pinching and rubbing the nipple until it rosy red.

"Fuck, yes, Jon!" she gasps, her head tilting back. Her mouth hung open, her body shaking, her cheeks flushed, and that only made him move his hand lower to her sensitive bundle of nerves that sat between her legs, the same one he had made cum earlier. It only took a few moments for her to clench up again, her body rocketing through another orgasm. It took every ounce of him not to come over the edge, her cries of pleasure filling the air.

But it doesn't last long, for as soon as her pants evaded her, she began to ride him instead, her hands gripping onto him tightly, rolling her hips and burying him even deeper inside of her, if that was possible, with each rocking motion. Within moments, he was the one that was edging release, cursing under his breath.

He knew he was close. He knew he wouldn't last long. He could hear her moaning, and he opens his eyes to see her looking right at him, her own orbs filled with lust, hungry and dark, as she rode him hard

"Māzigon syt nyke, Jon. Spill aōha nūmo isse nyke," she moans, her body only moving harder against his. Her hands cupped his face, eyes staying on his.

"Fuuck," he groans at the sight of her, his patience growing thin before he slams himself into her several times, feeling her grip onto his arms, her body shaking as she groaned louder and louder. He roared in ecstasy as his body toppled over the edge, shooting his seed within her, his hands latching onto her skin so harshly it had turned red.

She was not that far behind from her third climax, tossing her head back as she quickly reached it, an impassioned moan escaping her throat. "Qogralbar, kessa! Oh, kessa!" she screams, her body trembling as spasms rocketed through her.

She collapses on top of him, breathing heavily while staring up at him. He pushes her hair away and sees a dreamy smile appear on her lips.

"That was incredible," she breathes.

He chuckles at her reaction, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Have you really been feeling like that since before the festival?" he asks her with a chuckle.

"Yes," she responds, smiling at his reaction. "I had been planning to rip the clothes off of you the moment I saw them." She rests her hands against his cheeks, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm so happy we found each other again," she admits softly.

Jon smiles and takes one of her hands in his, before suddenly lifting her up again, causing her to squeal and laugh. He sits her on his lap once more and brushes away her hair, stroking her flushed cheeks from their coupling. And then he says the words he had wanted to say for a long time now. "I love you, too."

Her brow raises in surprise at his response, but he only continues.

"You said it earlier and I…I wanted to tell you I love you, too. I have for a long time now…I just haven't said it because I didn't want to frighten you…but I love you with my whole heart, Daenerys. I never want to lose you. I can't imagine my life without you. Without our family. All of this-" He gestures out towards the window. "-is nothing compared to having you in my arms and the children safe in their beds. Nothing. The Gods could take all this away but as long as I still had you, I wouldn't care."

Daenerys' eyes filled with tears and she leans down, pressing her lips against his again. "Why couldn't we have been like this back in Westeros?" she asks, letting out a soft breath.

"It was complicated. The whole entire world was complicated. But now?" He grabs her hand and holds it close to him, right above his heart, over the scar. "My heart belongs to you. Completely." A stray tear escapes her eyes but she wipes it away, before grabbing his own hand and placing it over her own scar.

"And mine is yours," she whispers. Jon leans up and kisses her again, feeling her fingers curl into his hair. When he pulls away, she smiles and nuzzles her nose against his. "And now…we rule." She pulls back and looks down at him softly. "I…I don't want this to end in ruins, Jon. I want our rule to be legendary. For people to know who we are…to understand that we want change."

"And it will be," he reassures her, lifting her up and placing her down on the bed, grabbing the furs and wrapping them around them. She stares up at him with love and desire in her eyes. "I'm going to give you the world, Daenerys," he promises, grabbing her hand in his own.

"What do you mean?" she asks, as his free hand came up and stroked her cheek.

"It means that no one is going to get in our way," he states, his voice firm. "No one is going to stop us from being the change we want to see. And if they even attempt to, they will regret trying. This is my promise to you. After everything we've been through, no one is going to stop us now."

Daenerys looks up at him, her hand holding his tightly. "That's a hefty promise," she murmurs.

"I tend to keep my promises," he responds back, seeing her smile, before leaning down and kissing her heavily, his body already awakening for more from his delicious queen.

Jon had made mistakes in the past. He had fucked up severely and had paid the price. But now, this was his life. And he was going to be the best at it, no matter what, for her.

That voice that said to embrace the dragon all that time ago? Nothing was stopping him now from letting that in. And for Daenerys, for his family, and for his people – the ones that did seem to care when the few back home did not – he would gladly embrace it. Shit, he would welcome it with open arms if it meant keeping them safe.

And whoever decided to cross their path and even think of taking them down – well, they only had to look into the dungeons to see what happened to people like that.

---

And now their reign has truly begin.

Some Valyrian translations for you all:

Gods, ȳdra daor keligon. Ȳdra daor keligon!: Gods don't stop, don't stop!

māzigon syt nyke: Come for me.

Māzigon syt nyke, Jon. Spill aōha nūmo isse nyke: Come for me, Jon. Spill your seed inside of me.

Qogralbar, kessa! oh, kessa: Fuck, yes! Oh, yes!

So again, this chapter ended up being very long lol I considering splitting up the coronation festival into its own chapter but I decided against it due to it maybe not being too long for a regular chapter, so everything here is included haha next chapter we bring back some old faces, start to make serious changes - and a mysterious force begins to find its way into the Targaryen's lives, so it's going to be fun. But after the bombshell dropped last chapter I thought this one should be a little lighter.

As always, love it? Hate it? Want to send me to death for treason like Jon did to the Night's Watchmen (please don't lol)? Let me know in the reviews, as they always keep me writing and putting out these chapters for you. I suppose this is sort of the beginning of the next part of this - which would be their rule and this prophecy we've been talking about for ages that is going to come into play (I got plannnns), and your feedback has always been the best motivation in getting out these chapters for you guys. I've loved writing this and I'm so happy you amazingly awesome readers have been enjoying it, so let me know what you think! Don't forget to follow or favorite if you want to join us on our adventure, and I will see you all in the next chapter. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have an awesome day! Wash your hands and stay healthy!