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)

47. Jon and Daenerys: The War Meeting

Hello there everyone! Thank you to:

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Your reviews helped me write this and get it out quicker and on time, so thank you so much! And a big welcome to the new follows and favorites, I hope you enjoy this adventure as much as we have! This chapter is sort of the beginning of the end, I'd say. This story has sort of been developed into three parts: Jon and Daenerys reuniting with their family and building their relationship again, the two taking over and rebuilding Valyria, and now the war with Westeros that is going to be a lot more different than you think it will be - I promise you. So be prepared because it's going to get dark and I prob won't regret it lol hope you enjoy!

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Jon

It was quiet flying back.

The rage that had enveloped him before had started to thin out the moment he had hit the air with his family as well as their hands. Don't get him wrong, it was still very much there. Every time he would glance back at the dragon the men were on, he could feel it spike up within him. But, he kept forcing it to back down when he would look to the other people around him.

There were so many things running through his mind. His children, being one of the primaries. He still couldn't believe that they had somehow found them and saved their behinds. He truly hadn't known if he and Daenerys would have been able to make it out of there with killing everyone. The dragons were an excellent distraction.

'Just shows that they're growing up quickly,' he mutters internally, letting out a soft sigh. He had tried to push that off for he didn't know how long at this point. He hated the idea of them growing older. He wanted them to stay young forever. For Dan to never get taken advantage of by some lord or for Daemon to never learn about the horrors of past Targaryen men. But he knew that was what was going to happen.

But when he looked over at them, while they flew on their dragons, despite his concerns, he couldn't help but feel proud of how well they had done. How quickly they had ended this torture. How they had taken advantage of what they had and used it. Daenerys had told him that Dan hadn't used her powers in a long time, but took the risk to find out where they were.

He'd have to somehow find something to give them. Maybe a new sword or clothes or something. Because if it wasn't for their quick thinking, he didn't know what would have happened.

And then, his eyes would wander to where Taevar and Davos were, speaking over the wind, their minds working together like they were made for each other. It was strange, how the two seemed to bounce off the other. He always knew Davos was unproblematic and had this way around people, and never had any other motive besides wanting to aid others. Taevar was of course a dragonlord, but he had the same ideas – a want to restore these people to greatness.

He had seen how they had worked together the last month since they had been married. And looking at it now, seeing that they had somehow kept the fort running while they had been away, while also keeping an eye on the children, he could do nothing but admire what they had done. He knew having Davos on as a second hand would help them immensely – especially in this war they were planning.

Gods, that fucking king. Just thinking of him made Jon seethe. He wanted to see exactly what Dan saw in her vision. He wouldn't push her to show it as soon as they got back, but he needed to witness it, to see for himself the betrayal that his brother was causing. No, Bran wasn't his brother…he hadn't been his brother for a long time.

When he had first seen what the Free Cities had been planning, a part of him had wanted to just burn Westeros to the ground. There was so much hatred that he had left within his heart that just wanted this all to end. But he realized two things while riding Jonarys back to Valyria.

One was that there were still innocent people in Westeros, ones that truly did not want to fight. While there was nothing they could do to prevent the horror that would follow, he would at least try to keep as many innocent people out of the fight as possible so they wouldn't get hurt. He knew that not every situation could be like Meereen, where they arrived a day early and somehow saved everyone for the most part, but it was something he would at least like to try.

The second was that Bran was much more powerful than he originally believed. This ice dragon that he had…who's to say he didn't have more of them? Who's to say that he couldn't control multiple things at once now? Or a whole army? He didn't know what he was capable of. It had been years since he had seen him. He could have grown in his power, getting stronger to a point where they didn't know what to do.

And now since he had attacked…he might be able to find Valyria, their home, and destroy it. Just like that.

He would have to call a meeting with every dragonlord, send out letters so that they could be known they were at war with Westeros, let every single city see what this country had brought on themselves. They would need to pick out new leaders for the cities that rebelled and find the remains of the former. They would have to somehow collect their army and make their way to Westeros because there was no fucking way they were spilling any more blood on their land than they needed to already.

All these thoughts raced through his head to the more and more he flew, until they finally descended down onto the pitch of the castle, a soft sigh escaping him, until he finally took a glance at his wife, the love of his life, the woman he would put everything on the line for. And the expression she had on her face was…unreadable. Usually, he was good at this kind of stuff after being with her for so long, but now, there was nothing. Only a blank expression.

He scratches the side of Jonarys' nose and then sends him off, as Daenerys does the same. He turns his gaze to where Taevar and Davos were, pulling the three leaders off onto the ground and dropping them, all three letting out a groan of pain. "You alright there, big brother?"

He turns to the side to see Arya and Gendry, both of them moving from Visenya. "I'm okay," he reassures her, hugging her side. "Thank you for being so active in helping us get back here…someday your skills are going to come in handy."

Arya snorts and then nods at Gendry. "Could you possibly get a bath ready for us, Gendry?"

The boy's brow raises in surprise before he smiles widely. "Yes, my lady."

"Don't call me that!"

"Of course, my lady."

He scurries off after that as she throws dirt from her shirt at him, hearing him snicker. Jon smiles a bit as Arya shakes her head, looking over as Daenerys talks silently with Taevar and Davos. "He's good for you," Jon says softly, causing Arya to look up in surprise. "I know at first I was surprised about it but you two suit each other well…a bit more of a joker than you, however."

Arya chuckles a little but nods. "I know…a part of me feels bad for what I did to him years ago. After the Battle of Winterfell, he had asked me to marry him – I think you knew that – but I said no. I wanted to travel the world, and I did…but a part of me wants to do it again with him, to show him everything. He didn't have to protect me all those years ago, but he did…and I threw it back in his face."

"Don't say that," Jon reassures her gently, grabbing her shoulder. "You weren't betrothed to him or any kind of promise. He was your friend, your first…you didn't owe him anything but kindness and trust. Sometimes…it takes time for you to grow and realize that you want to be with someone."

He looks over at his wife, a soft smile on his lips. He could almost see the smirk from his sister.

"You're one to talk," she mutters.

"Oh, be quiet," he chuckles a little.

The two of them look at Daenerys, before Arya sighs. "She's not alright, is she?" At Jon's furrowed brow, she continues to talk. "I saw the way she rode her dragon. She had this lost look on her face…I don't know what to call it. She just didn't seem like her normal happier self."

Jon sighs but nods. "I know…I noticed it too." He looks down at Arya and rests a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to talk with her about it, but if she comes to you at some point…let me know."

"Of course," she states gently.

Jon looks back over at Daenerys, biting his lip. "How do you feel about what's going to happen?"

Arya was quiet for a moment, glancing at the ground. "I think Westeros made a fatal error," she admits. "I think that most of them have no idea what's coming and that they think they do…either that or Bran has something else up his sleeve. I don't know."

"What about the North?" he genuinely asks. The question had been on his mind the whole time. "If we're going to be going to war with them then-"

"Jon, this is something we need to discuss in a council meeting," she interrupts, her brow furrowed. "I know what you want me to say, but I can't say it right now…I have to get clean first, feel…normal again after what we just went through. Can you give me a day to just…relax and then we can firmly discuss what to do next?"

He could see the stress lace in her eyes, but Jon understood why. Arya was far more connected to the North than he was. Not only that, but she had had a personal relationship with Sansa herself – to which Jon didn't even know if she was a part of this or not. She was conflicted about the whole ordeal. He didn't blame her.

"That sounds fine," he says to her. "Go rest…thank you for being with us."

Arya nods and then heads off in the direction Gendry went. Jon runs a hand through his hair as he moves back over to where Daenerys was, glancing at the cursing men on the ground that were held down by Davos and Taevar. Before he could even speak, however, the door suddenly bursts open.

Everyone's heads turn to see Rhaemon running towards them with multiple soldiers. "My king and queen," the man says, bowing his head before looking at the men on the ground. "Are these the filthy traitors?"

Daenar spits at the man's feet. Jon rolls his eyes and smacks the tied up magister in the back of the head, causing him to curse. "These are them, yes."

"Do you want us to kill them, your graces?" one of the soldiers asks.

Daenerys stares down at them, rubbing her arm almost uncomfortably. She glances out at the pitch, her eyes moving along the gaze of the people down below. "No," she says after a moment. "The killing will be public."

Jon's brow raises in surprise, but she only nods her head, confirming what she thought.

"The people of Valyria need to see that even though people are rebelling, they will not win. Killing them here would be a waste of blood and time. It has to mean something." She looks back at the guards. "Take them to the dungeons. We will kill them in a day's time – end this as quickly as possible. Before then, we need to have a war meeting – something to discuss what is going on. Tomorrow at the latest."

"Yes, my queen," Rhaemon states before turning his eyes to Jon. "Do you agree?"

"Yes," Jon states before nodding at the prisoners. "Take them. I don't want to see their faces again." Rhaemon nods and commands in Valyrian for the guards to pick them up. A string of curses leaves their bodies as they do so, before being dragged away from the perch, their blood dripping against the stone. Jon then turns to Taevar and Davos. "You two go rest. The war meeting won't take place today…I think we need to relax a little before we do any of that."

"Agreed," Davos states before letting out a soft sigh. "Someone is going to have to tell the families about the soldiers, however."

Jon instantly sees Daenerys face drop, and she looks to the ground. "I'll do that," Jon responds, reaching over to squeeze Daenerys' hand. She looks up at his words. "They signed up for this when they agreed for them to go to war…of course no one would have expected this. It'll be hard, but you can relax…especially after what happened."

Daenerys nods softly, not saying anything. Jon, despite the worries that were within him, turns to Taevar. "Go home to your family. And Davos…we will try our hardest to get your family here as soon as possible after what's happened…maybe even get them by dragon if we can get away with it."

Davos sighs but nods. "Moving them might not be the safest for us right now but if you have the option, I would be forever thankful."

Jon nods, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll see you early tomorrow morning – that's when we go over what's happened. Until then, rest. And thank you for aiding us. We will be in your debts for a long time, my friends." He embraces the two men, watching them go after a moment. Honestly, he truly was thankful for them in his life. They had handled the situation so well.

Sometimes a part of him even wondered how it was that Davos of all people grew up in the slums. He helped so often with royalties and battle plans, it was almost as if he was made for it.

Finally, his eyes turn to Dan and Daemon, who had both been patiently waiting to be addressed after what had happened, talking to each other. He respected how they didn't barge in an interrupt – both of them knew how serious this was.

"You two," he says, causing them to look up. He gestures to them. "Come over here."

The twins walk over quickly, their movements steady and eyes staying on him. He had a feeling that they expected him to chastise them for going off to come and save them, but they were very far from that.

Once they move to sit in front of him, he leans down and smiles a little. "Why do you two look so scared?"

"I don't know," Daemon mutters. "Thought you'd be mad."

"Mad? No. I'm here to thank you. As is your mother." He looks over at Dan and grabs her hand gently. "Your mother told me that in order to find us, you had to use your old power. I know how you feel about that, but the fact that you got through that fear to find us shows a true fighter. A warrior. And you two did exceptionally well together. I know I once said that you can't rely on the sorcery in your blood to save you in a fight, but in situations like that, you have no choice. And honestly, you did us proud."

He could see the smiles on the children's faces, happy to be praised. Jon stands and wraps an arm around Daenerys, who reaches over and grab's their hands.

"Thank you for coming to our aid. It was much needed. We can only hope that we can help prevent this kind of madness in the future. But for now, we can gladly say that you truly changed the narrative." She leans down and presses a gentle kiss against their foreheads before nodding towards the door. "Now, how about you go and find your siblings, as well as Eleana? I think they deserve a hug as well."

The twins nod, and both of them hug the two parents tightly before taking off into the castle, whispering indistinctly to each other, before disappearing around the corner to look for their family. Jon feels himself smile at their antics. He knew the two had waited forever to prove that they were good in battle, and now they had been given the chance and was praised for it.

He could only imagine how Dan was feeling.

After a moment, he looks over to his wife, seeing her lean against the banister of the perch, glancing down at the ground. Jon comes to her side and rests a hand against her back. As soon as he does, she glances away, her head turned to the ground. "Dany, is something wrong?" he asks softly.

Daenerys looks back at him a second later, words seeming to evade her. But she lets out a soft sigh and then reaches behind, grabbing his hand and holding it close to her. "I'm alright," she reassures, a smile on her lips, but Jon could tell it was forced. When Daenerys smiled, it always seemed to light up the room. She was able to bring a grin to anyone by existing. But this one didn't quite reach her eyes. And when he looked at it, he could feel the pain behind it.

He pulls his hand back and then moves to rest both against her waist. "Dany, please, if something is wrong, tell me."

He sees her eyes change and she glances away, opening her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She swallows a moment later, glancing away, and for a moment, a singular moment, he could swear he saw tears appear in her eyes. But that all seemed to disappear a moment later when one sound caught both of their attention.

"You're back!"

Both Daenerys and Jon turn their heads to see Nesara running at them in full speed, a large grin on her face. And then, Daenerys actually does show a full smile, kneeling down just in time to life the little girl into her arms, her hands knotting into her hair, holding her close. Jon embraces Mae and Zaevar as they run at him before they pull back to hug Dany as well.

Daenerys lets Nesara onto the ground and she hugs Jon next, to which Jon wraps his own arms around her. The little girl had so much energy she could brighten the day of even the vilest person on earth.

"We didn't think you would come back," Nesara mumbles when she pulls away from him.

Jon's brow furrows in shock before he looks over at Mae and Zaevar. "Is that true?"

The two elder siblings exchange a look before turning back to him. "Dan showed us what she saw and…we honestly thought that by the time they got to you, you would have been dead," Zaevar admits quietly. "We wanted to come and help save you but someone needed to stay behind."

Daenerys sighs and shakes her head. "It's alright if you didn't…the less children that witness the warpath we are about to embark on, the better." Dan and Daemon appear again from around the corner, this time with Eleana. Daenerys smiles and then hugs the handmaiden tightly as she runs to her. Jon looks at the children as she does so.

"It's good that you stayed behind. Someone did need to hold down the fort. But we're back now, and we're not going anywhere without you." He squeezes Nesara, tickling her side, which makes the little girl giggle. He looks over at Mae and Zaevar, who were smiling. "Anything serious happen while we were gone? Did anyone break through the walls?"

"As far as we know, no," Mae states. "We only stayed in the castle and received updates from Rhaemon. Other than that, everything seems safe for now."

"Good," Jon breathes out, looking over at Eleana. He reaches over and hugs the handmaiden as well, but as she pulls away, her eyes look over at Daenerys.

"While I am happy that you are okay – more than anything right now – you two are absolutely filthy. Her grace needs a warm bath."

Jon looks over at Daenerys, seeing her arms crossed against her chest. Usually when something like this would happen, they would take a bath together, but he had a feeling for some reason she needed to be alone. "She's right," Jon says gently, causing Daenerys to look up in surprise. "We do. How about the children go and train for a bit while we clean up? Eleana can take care of you – pamper you after that horror we just had – and I can take care of myself. I can see you later, Dany."

His wife bites her lip with her brow furrowed, seemingly wanting to speak, but she only nods and says in a soft voice, "Okay. That sounds good."

Jon nods, wanting to say so many more things, but knew that this wasn't the right time, nor the right moment. So, instead, he gently lets his hand rest on Dan and Daemon's backs, pushing them forward before nodding at the other children. "Come on, then, let's go let mother have her bathtime."

"But I wanted to hear a story from her!" Nesara whines.

Jon chuckles and shakes his head. "You'll hear one from her later."

He could see her pout for a second before following Mae around the corner. Jon watches them closely, but listens behind him as Eleana whispers something in the queen's ear until they were out of sight. He could only hope that after this they could at least speak about what was happening to her.

And as he walked away, he prayed to all the old gods and the new that it wasn't something to do with the babe.

---

Daenerys

She felt terrible for turning him away.

Ever since they had flown back from the trident, she had been constantly thinking about the war, what had happened, how these masters had changed, everything. But the topic that had been on her mind the most was her babe and the marks on her back. She knew that being whipped was obviously something that she couldn't have controlled, but a part of her felt ruined.

She had only had one scar on her body that had seriously marked her, the one that her husband had inflicted years ago, but now…she knew these wouldn't go away. And that bothered her. Of course being a warrior, she was bound to get scars, gashes, cuts, things like that, but at the same time…these almost felt like a shame. The moment someone actually beat her.

Gods, what if Jon wasn't even going to be attracted to her anymore? If her skin is all lumpy and torn apart?

It was something she had never even worried about, but it had consistently been taunting her the whole ride back. And of course he had been worried about her. Jon could always read through her bought of queenliness. He knew when she was faking. He knew her so well. And yet she couldn't bring herself to tell him what was troubling her.

Daenerys lets out a soft sigh, looking up from the bath. Eleana had brought her to her room to clean her and get the blood, shit, and dirt out of her hair. The water was boiling hot, but it soothed her aching muscles and cuts. Eleana hadn't asked about the whip marks, or anything else. She had just been there for her, as a friend would.

And as she was cleaning her wounds, her touch gentle, Daenerys began to cry. All of her emotions were overwhelming her, and the very idea of going to war with Westeros brought back so many bad memories that she knew it was only going to get worse.

As soon as Eleana heard her crying, she stopped instantly and moved to face her. "My queen? Dany, what's wrong?" she asks quickly. "Are you hurt? Is something in pain?"

"No," Daenerys manages through her tears, wiping them away. She takes a shuddering breath and then turns to look at Eleana. "I think maybe my emotions are getting away with me but I'm…so thankful to be alive right now and that you…you're still caring for me after all this shit we've been through and I…I don't know how I could ever repay you."

The expression on Eleana's face changes and she lets out a soft smile. "My queen, you don't need to repay me for taking care of you. If anything, I could never repay you. You saved me from a whore house and serving horrible men for the rest of my life. That's something I can't ever match. Don't thank me for serving someone that truly saved my life."

Daenerys manages a soft smile for the girl, feeling her breathing start to even out, and the tears stop, calming herself. Her hands begin to gently wash the gashes on her back, and a soft silence develops between the two. After a moment, however, Eleana does speak.

"So," she mumbles, her brow raised as she glances at Daenerys through the reflection of the mirror. "You don't need to tell me but I'm assuming that these marks are from…the leaders?"

Daenerys was quiet for a moment, glancing at the murky water below them, before slowly nodding. "They, uh…Daenar, one of them, whipped me when he caught me," she admits softly. "He wanted me to admit that they had beaten me but I…I wouldn't speak. I feel stupid now for not doing so."

"Don't feel stupid," Eleana reassures her gently. "The fact that you still stood up for what you believed in even when you were being completely torn apart by some bitch of a man shows how strong you are." She moves to look at Daenerys head-on, smiling a bit. "Don't think just because someone hurt you it diminishes who you are in any way. I mean, remember what Daemon went through? And he has to deal with those marks for the rest of his life. Yours will most likely have scarring, but not as bad as his."

Daenerys sighs. "I know. I shouldn't be feeling like this when I know my son has the same scars…even worse so. But I can't help but feel…like we did lose, somehow. That these men we thought we could trust just…turned against us. Just like that. It's like all the change that we had made was for nothing."

Eleana shrugs as she rinses more water out of her hair. "Some people are truly evil, Daenerys." The handmaiden bites her lip a moment later. "Maybe that's the wrong choice of words. Maybe not evil but…selfish. That's the right word. They want to live in their old world because it benefitted them. Now, because of the changes you've been bringing it no longer benefits them. And because of that, they only want to watch you suffer. You've done everything right…some people just see it as wrong."

With those words, Daenerys lets them linger within her head, glancing at the water below her. Eleana was right…no matter what they did, or whom they helped, some just did not care. And it was something she had to get used to.

---

The bath had helped her get clean to the point where she no longer felt like she was being punched in the face with shit each time she took a step, but once she even had comfortable clothing on, she still felt exhausted. Torn apart.

A part of her wondered if Jon was upset with her considering he had left so quickly with the children, but she knew she was only overthinking. He could see that she was struggling to accept what had happened, so he had left her to her thoughts, as he usually did whenever she got into sort of a rut like this.

Now, she actually didn't have on her fancy dresses or her crown, or anything really of the sort. In fact, when she had told Eleana she wanted to dress, she went for the first thing she knew she would feel comfortable in. And that was Jon's tunic and breeches.

She knew that if a normal person walked in here and saw her dressed in men's clothing they would probably be seriously concerned for her mental state. Considering how she dressed almost 99% of the time, this was a rare occurrence. But there were two reasons why walking around in his clothing right now just felt right.

The first reason was that it was him. As much as she had felt distant before, having Jon's clothing on her made her feel safe, warm, protected. She had prided herself for years for never feeling that she needed a man or anyone to stand at her guard. All she needed was someone to fight for her, beside her, not keep her swaddled in like someone who couldn't keep herself safe.

But now, even if she knew how to hold a sword, how to properly behead someone now…a part of her still felt like a maiden that wanted to be held by him. He always had this gaze that said that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, and she felt that to her core. She believed him, and maybe by wearing his clothes, it brought back that feeling a little bit after what she had gone through.

The second reason was just as important, however, because his clothes were loose-fitting. And because of that, there were no harsh fabrics pressing against the wounds on her back.

She tried to avoid as many people as possible so she could wander the castle in silence, taking glances occasionally outside at the dragons that would fly past. She had a feeling that her little one was sleeping at the perch with the other babies, while Drogon and the others had gone to rest after their big day. It was strange, how after what had happened, a part of her just wanted to burn down Westeros.

Daenerys knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help but feel anger sweep at her each time she thought about it. That king who had sent men after them so many times, to kill them, to end them. Now uniting with her own people to bring them down…it felt like no one, truly, could ever give them a break. And a dark part of her wanted to just end it. To kill every single last soldier.

But she pushed that down because she wasn't that girl in King's Landing. She wasn't the person who burned innocents…and even if she had her tendencies, she would never do it of her own mind.

God, if Bran could control Drogon back then…who's to say he couldn't do it again? Or all of her dragons? Or anyone else's?

Sleeping was going to be awful now. She could feel it.

Daenerys lets out a soft sigh as she walks around the corner, glancing down into the training pit. There were the children where Jon most likely left them, training together. She could see Nesara watching while Dan and Zaevar trained, swinging their swords back and forth. Mae was next to her little sister, braiding her hair gently.

She could hear Dan telling them all around what had happened, and out of all the Targaryen's, she had the brightest smile on her cheeks. "You should have seen it!" she exclaims. "Daemon swept in and then froze all those men, and made their heads explode! And then I came off my dragon and then burned the rest to a crisp – we were unstoppable!"

"Wait, wait," Zaevar states, his brow raised. "Daemon made people…explode?"

"Yeah, with that blood sorcery stuff, like what Nesara has."

He looks over at his little sister. "Does that mean she can do that one day?"

Nesara glances up at his words and shrugs. "I don't know what explode really means but maybe!"

Zaevar's face turns pale and he makes an expression of disgust before looking back over at Dan, who was laughing. "Gods, all that blood and guts…blech. I'm glad you're alright though…and that the parents are okay, too. I didn't think for a second you would come back."

Dan snorts and nudges his shoulder. "Please. The only time we're not coming back is when we have to…I don't even know, sacrifice each other?"

Mae's eyes widen. "Don't jinx yourself. With this family, that honestly could happen."

Daenerys hears the children laugh, causing herself to sigh from where she silently stood. She was glad they could find such humor in what they were talking about, but they had been genuine fears of hers since the attack. What if something like that had to go down? And what if her children didn't come back from battle one day? And what if-

She stops herself, placing her hands against her head. Her mind was getting away from her again. She needed to take deep breaths, remind herself that yes, indeed, she was alive, and so was the rest of her family. At least for now.

"Gods," she mutters to herself, shaking her head.

"Mother?"

Daenerys turns her gaze to see Daemon walking to her side, a drink in his hands, what looked like a cup of water. "My son," she says softly, reaching over and squeezing his free hand. "How are you feeling? I thought you would be down there."

"I was, but I got a little tired. Wanted to get something help me work better."

"And your body after what happened…is it alright?"

Daemon nods quietly. "Yeah. I mean…it was strange. I had never done that before." He glances back at the children who resumed practicing, his hands fidgeting with the glass of water within his fingers. "I mean, I had practiced before the, occasionally with Nesara and Kinvara – she knows how to do the same type of blood sorcery we do. Something a couple of red priests inherit…but that night was…different. Dan said once before that the sun made her magic a little more powerful than normal during the day…I'm starting to think I am really affected by night. There was so much…power. I don't even know how to describe it."

Daenerys looks down at her son, seeing his sense of confusion. She reaches down and lets her hands rest against his shoulders. "Daemon, can you promise me something?" Her son nods, looking up at her. "Please don't let that power consume you. This gift that you and your sister have…it is very dangerous. One that can harm a lot of people. And being a Targaryen….you already have so much. Don't follow the narrative of our ancestors."

Daemon smiles at the end of her words. "I don't think I could ever be mad honestly unless someone tried to control me," he admits, shrugging. "I've been using it for healing a lot more. Kinvara has taught me some even better ways to help serious wounds. I think I could be a really good medic if the army would need it. I only did what I had to do to save you…I didn't want to lose my family."

Daenerys envelops her son in a hug, letting out a soft sight. "You could never lose us." Her hands feel the bumps of his scars through his shirt, and instantly, she feels a little bit of shame come over her. Her son would truly always live with those scars. Hers would never be as bad as his. "Daemon, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course."

"How…do you live with those?" she asks him, her hands gently caressing his back. "Genuinely…you know I will always love you, as will your family, but do they ever…hurt? Or feel…any sort of pain?"

Daemon was quiet, biting his lip. "Why are you asking?"

"You don't know?" she asks him softly, to which he shakes his head. She sighs and then turns around, gently lifting only a bit of the back of Jon's tunic, letting her son see the marks against her back. When she turns around to see his reaction, his eyes were widened, but only slightly. "Don't think less of me…they only did it when I was tied up and bound. I had no choice."

"No, I don't…I could never think less of you, mother," he reassures, causing her to smile at his words. "But on the topic of pain…it happens sometimes."

"Yeah?"

"I mean…it's not horrible. It's only touch and go. Like sometimes when I lay down, it'll hurt sometimes but it goes away after a little bit." He looks back at his mother and takes her head. "At least you know you won't be alone…we'll be back-buddies."

Daenerys snorts at the phrase, shaking her head, almost feeling it drop to the ground. "I can't believe you just said that," she laughs, feeling her son chuckle and laugh as well. After a moment of joy between them, she lets out a soft sigh and looks to him. "Am I a bad mother, Daemon?"

His brow furrows in surprise. "Why would you ask that?"

"It seems that no matter what your father and I do…something bad always happens to us. You even died before, and there's nothing…we couldn't do anything and…" She lets out another shaky sigh.

"Yeah, but there's nothing you could have done, just like what you said," he says softly, causing her to look back at him. "Just because some awful things have happened to us doesn't mean that it makes you a bad mother…or Jon a bad father. We're Targaryen's. Danger is sort of in our name. It's what we have to go through."

"That's not an excuse. I want to try and keep you as far away from danger as possible," Daenerys whispers.

"And even if you don't, it's not your fault. Please, mother," he responds, squeezing her hand. "Don't feel bad for the things that you couldn't control. It's pointless…I felt horrible for what happened to Nesy in the volcano, but there was nothing I could do to change what happened. We just have to move on from it…it's all we can do to keep ourselves from turning into the past."

Daenerys smiles at her son's words, holding his hand tightly. "When did you get so smart?"

He smiles back at her words. "I think Dan's really just pushed so much information down my throat, it's hard to ignore it."

Daenerys snickers and then stands, pulling her son in for one last hug. "Go and train. I will see you at dinner tonight."

Daemon nods and moves to head down the stairs. Before he does, however, he turns his back to her once more. "I love you, mother. Don't forget that. No matter what."

Daenerys smiles again, genuinely for the first time in hours. "I love you too."

Daemon then nods and heads back down the stairs, yelling to them about water, and Mae shouting "finally!" when he reaches the bottom. Daenerys chuckles as she leaves around the corner, letting her hands rest against her sides. Even her son knew when the move on…maybe she needed to learn how to do so as well.

Because honestly, he was right. She had said it herself before. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened to her, nor her son, nor her daughter, or even to Jon. It was only what they could do moving forward that would mean something. And she had to start focusing on that.

---

The sun had begun to set when her hunger finally began to set in. She had asked Davos at one point where Jon had gone, wanting to speak to him, but he had revealed that he went to talk to the families of the men they had lost.

She was thankful for him doing so. She didn't know how much she could get through regarding that this time, so having him break the news would hopefully be suitable in this situation. She felt horrible for what these families had to go through, but it is what their family members signed up for.

But no one expected this. Especially her.

As she walked towards the dining chambers, hoping she could see her husband tonight, she spots Arya training in the garden, practicing new moves it seemed she had learned with Needle, probably from some books she had read from the libraries in Valyria. Daenerys watches quietly for a moment, her arms crossed, before stepping forward.

"Having fun?" she asks the younger woman.

Arya turns at her voice, before letting out a soft sigh of relief. "Well…it's better than fighting for my life on that field against the soldiers, that's for sure."

Daenerys feels her shoulders drop as she steps forward. "Anything really is." She glances towards her sword again. "Where did you learn some of those steps? They seemed new."

"Oh, Dan visited me before after I washed up," Arya states. "Said that while we had been working on trade deals she had been exploring the libraries. Found some ancient Valyrian training books."

Daenerys smiles knowingly. "I knew it was that. It seemed like something older."

Arya puts Needle away and glances over at Daenerys again. "Are you alright, Daenerys?" Before she could even speak, Arya raises a hand. "And don't try to actually tell me you are because I am excellent at reading people."

Daenerys sighs, shaking her head. "I'm…okay," she states after a moment, walking with Arya back into the castle. "I know it doesn't seem like I am but I'm alright. I just have a lot on my mind after everything that's happened." She looks over at Arya, seeing the same expression on her own face. "You're worried about this, too. I can tell."

Arya rubs the back of her neck cheekily. "I mean, who wouldn't be? You and I both saw what Bran did. And now that we've seen it…who knows what else he can do?" Arya lets her head fall back against one of the walls, stopping to glance at the ground. "I don't even know what's become of my family, Daenerys…I don't even know what it feels to be a Stark anymore."

She looks back at her, a sad and bitter smile on her face.

"I mean, when you first came to Westeros, I was against you because I had such little family left. My father, mother, and two of my brothers had been killed. I only had Jon, Sansa and Bran left. I told them that we were the last of the Starks…but then Jon told me he was a Targaryen. I told him no matter what, he'll always be my brother…but in reality, he's always been so much more of a Targaryen."

Arya chuckles a little, shaking her head.

"He had my father's honor, that's for sure, but he always had the anger of a Targaryen. He kept it hidden, but when he lost a battle, or he felt like he could have done better on something, he would let that shit fly in his room. He was good at keeping it to himself. And recently, I've seen him let it out a lot more in battle. Probably because he's more Targaryen now than he ever has been…and it's not that I don't love him, because I do…it's just…I always pictured Jon as the perfect Stark, even though he was considered a bastard. And now…just knowing that he isn't my true brother…it does something to me. I mean, what do I have left? My sister who's apparently a mastermind at manipulation because of Littlefinger, and my brother who sent a fucking ice dragon after us…I don't know how the Starks are going to be looked at now."

Her rant ended after that, with a soft sigh of disappointment, and a sink to the floor. Daenerys watches her softly before sinking down next to her. It wasn't quite queenly like to do so, but honestly, she didn't care. "Has this been on your mind for a while?" she asks the girl gently.

"Yes," Arya breathes out, almost a burden coming off of her shoulders. "And I haven't brought it up because I know we have much bigger issues to deal with but it's been overwhelming me. I've told Gendry and he understands but…it's different. With him, he has the whole Baratheon legacy controlled to him now…I still have my two siblings which are not making a good name for our house…I don't know how to feel about this war, or what to do…I'm so conflicted about family, it's been giving me constant headaches…I just don't know what to do."

Daenerys nods, letting the girl get all of her issues out, before speaking. "Well…I can speak from experience if you'd like to hear."

"Please," Arya whimpers, her brow furrowed. "I need anything at this point."

"I grew up with my family legacy," she states quietly. "The Targaryen's were always known, for a long time, to be these powerful madmen who would take over the world. If you can see…a lot of people still believe that despite Jon and I constantly trying to change the narrative."

"Which is awful," Arya adds.

"Which is awful," Daenerys agrees. "But I also grew up with the prime example of what the world thought a Targaryen was – Viserys." She glances outside again, memories flooding her mind. "I may have named a dragon after him, but that was only because of his early years when he did take care of me….but as time went on, he was consumed by power, rage…a want to take back that throne. He turned into this…horrible man. He once told me he would let all of Khal Drogo's army and his horses fuck me if it meant getting back to King's Landing."

"My god," Arya mutters.

"Yeah, it wasn't pretty," Daenerys admits. "But for a while, I had to deal with the very idea that maybe being a Targaryen just did mean madness. Not all Targaryen's in the past were like that, but the ones who stayed in the memories of others were. But after a while, I realized I couldn't let the actions of my family members decide who I was. If people wanted to see the real me, the true Daenerys Targaryen, I had to prove it and show the world. At first, that was through trying to regain my family's legacy…now, it's through making our own legacy. We don't need to follow in the paths of our ancestors and family members before us to define who we are as our house…we can write our own stories, and carve our own paths."

The young woman was quiet for a second, taking in her words. Daenerys glances back out towards the window and nudges Arya's side.

"Also, I'm quite positive Jon does not care that you aren't blood. To him, you will always be his sister, and the one person in that family that has stood by him, even when he was still considered a bastard all those years ago…and not for nothing, but I look to you as the sister I never had now."

A smile spread across the girl's lips, and she reaches over and squeezes her hand. "Thank you, Daenerys…that means a lot." Daenerys nods and let's go, while Arya sighs quietly. "Hard to be considered a sister of two Targaryens and not be able to ride a dragon, though."

Daenerys laughs. "You don't need to worry about that, you're free to come on rides with us any time." To which Arya chuckles and nods, the same smile on her lips. It was quiet between the two before Arya looks back at her.

"Also…why are you wearing my brother's clothing?"

Daenerys sighs after a moment, glancing at the ground. "The whip marks from the masters…it's the only kind of clothing that doesn't press against the wounds."

Arya's face cringes at the mention of her back. "I'm sorry…that's awful."

"Don't apologize for something you had no control over," Daenerys states, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just…what I have to deal with right now." Her head rests against the wall and she looks back at Arya. "You've been…in a lot of battles, right?"

"Battles…not really, but fights, yes."

"And you've received wounds and scars from them, obviously?"

"I'd be surprised if I somehow didn't."

"When you've…done things," she begins, causing Arya to raise an eyebrow. "You know what I mean, have sex or whatever, are you ever worried about those marks…turning someone away?"

Arya snorts. "First of all, if a man or woman is disgusted by a couple of scars on a woman's body, they don't deserve you in the first place. Secondly, I don't think I've ever been…worried, as you say. Gendry's asked about the scars, and where I've gotten them, but he's never been torn away from them." She raises an eyebrow as she turns to look at Daenerys. "And trust me when I say this – if you are concerned that Jon of all people is going to be disgusted by your wounds on your back, your worries are in the wrong place."

Daenerys chuckles a little, shrugging her shoulders. "I know, it's silly to be worrying about, but it's a genuine concern…I mean, I've never had…wounds like this before. They're really bad. And I know they're going to scar and-"

"Daenerys." Her voice interrupts her mid-speech, shaking her head. "Again, Jon is not going to care. If anything, he'll love you even more if possible. If he can still love you with the wound that he inflicted on you ages ago, then there's nothing that will stop him – especially with how often you two go at it."

Daenerys holds back a smile at her words, but leans over and hugs Arya tightly. "Thank you…I needed to hear that."

"Good." She pulls back after a moment and stands, helping Daenerys up as well. "But I don't know about you, but I am starving."

"I as well," Daenerys snickers. "Let's go eat."

Arya nods, following after her. Silence envelopes the two before Arya speaks out a bit. "And also just to let you know…you're like a sister to me too." Daenerys smiles at Arya and squeezes her hand, happy to hear those words come from her mouth. She had always dreamed about having a sister for a long time. Just because she wasn't blood didn't make her any less important to her.

The two of them walk towards the dining chambers, expecting to see Jon and the children, but was surprised to only see the young members of the family seated at the table, along with Gendry, who currently had his cheeks stuffed. Daenerys' brow furrows as she walks in, seeing Eleana serving the food. "Where is my husband?" she asks the young girl.

"After he returned from telling the family, he said he had something he needed to do. Wouldn't say what though, only that it's important and that he'll dine later."

"Oh," Daenerys mutters, before shrugging. "Alright. More for us, I assume."

"I'll eat more of that chicken then he will." She swipes it from Gendry's hands. "Give me that."

"Hey!"

"You've had your fill," Dan chuckles. "Let Aunt Arya eat."

"I'm a man – need more food to get big and strong."

"Tell that to the woman who beats you every time we spar," Arya teases.

The children at the table all go 'ooooh,' laughing. Daenerys shakes her head at Gendry's reddened cheeks, sitting at the head of the table. "No more bickering, children," she states, laughing at their antics. But secretly, she hoped it never ended.

It was times like this she would remember when she would ride her dragon into battle. And she was thankful for them.

---

Dinner was a quiet affair except for clanking of forks and stories exchanged. But as soon as it was done, Daenerys could almost feel her tiredness seep in, and her want for her husband invade her even more. She wanted to fall asleep in his arms and pretend the world outside wasn't happening. But she knew her mind wouldn't allow that.

As she approached her sleeping chambers, she thought of how sweet it felt to tuck her children into bed. How she had wanted that for so long, a family to have and to hold, to never let go. And each time she thought of it, how she would kiss Nesara's forehead before she fell asleep, how Daemon would give her a hug before he went to bed, how Dan would tell her about her dreams…it made her fear losing it.

This was the world she was born into, and she hated it. She prayed that one day, somehow, her new babe would never have to experience the horrors that her children now have seen.

Daenerys bit her lip as she stepped outside of her chamber door, looking at the ground as she went in. If Jon was busy working, she supposed she could just go to sleep, finally get a nice amount of rest after the horror they went through.

However, as soon as she walked into their chambers, her being alone was not the case.

She stepped first on a dark red flower, the kind she had seen growing along with the forests of Valyria. Her eyes followed to see another red one, as well as black flowers, blue ones, purple, all around the room, on the floors and the chairs and dresser, on the balcony, some even on the beds. They didn't stop.

Candles were lit as well, in all of the corners, illuminating the chambers, almost the same light as the moon outside. She stares in shock, feeling her eyes water at the sight. Where had all of this come from? Was this all for her?

"Oh," she hears coming from the bathing chambers, and she turns her head to see Jon standing there, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't think you were here yet. I thought I'd have more time."

Daenerys shakes her head in awe, walking towards him. "What…what is all of this?"

"I knew something was wrong," he says softly as she comes towards him. "Arya noticed it and so did I…you were distant. You had this look in your eye that something wasn't sticking well with you…I wanted to somehow make you feel a little better after all of this, so after I told the families what had happened, I went off and picked up a good number of flowers from the forest…it might have been stupid but-"

"No," she whispers, shaking her head and looking over at him. "It's perfect, Jon…" Daenerys' eyes follow all around the room, taking in every single flower, tears escaping her. "Gods…" Her hands run through her hair before she collapses against the edge of the bed, staring at the man in front of her. "I'm sorry I was so distant. So sorry."

"Dany, don't-"

"No," she states, holding onto the spready beneath her. "Let me speak." Daenerys lets out a shaky breath as he moves to sit next to her on the bed, trying to find the right words of what to say. "When we came back here…you're right. My head was…everywhere. I was thinking of the war and our children…the babe, the families…what we were risking, all the innocent people in Westeros…it was overwhelming me. So much….but I shouldn't have kept you out. I'm sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize for feeling emotions, Dany," he chuckles a little, taking her hand in his. "We all have those thoughts. You of all people are valid of feeling fear for what is about to happen. I only wanted to make you feel a little better."

"Well…you definitely achieved that," she responds, smiling up at him as she rested her head against his shoulder, before looking out at the candles once more. "Quite the romantic, you are."

He snorts at her words. "I didn't use to be…took meeting the right women and having children to get there."

Daenerys chuckles. "Took some time, but you've done a great job."

"Did you speak to anyone?" he asks.

"Eleana and Arya…even Daemon, for a little bit," she admits, looking back at him. "All of them really gave me the same advice…we just have to move on and look to the future. It doesn't make sense to focus on what has happened…only to pray that we somehow keep our lives intact moving forward."

Jon's brow furrows. "Our son said those words?"

She chuckles a bit. "Not those exactly, but close to them. Both he and Dan have gone through enough life-changing experiences for one lifetime already." Just saying those words brought a sigh from her mouth. "Gods, Jon…I'm so terrified for what's to come, even after what I just said…I don't want any more harm to come to them, but we have no choice at this point."

Jon sighs as well. "I know…the most we can do now is make the new world better for the next person that comes into it." His hands move to rest against her bump, and she smiles a bit. "Make sure this one never has to go through anything else."

Daenerys rests her own hands against his own before she gently takes them off and goes to stand, picking up some of the flowers on the ground. Jon leans back against the bed, watching her quietly. "How did the families take it?" she asks him quietly while placing the flowers onto the dresser near them.

"They took it…surprisingly well," Jon admits. "Most of them always know what they're sending them off to…I think they had a feeling when they saw what I looked like. They were upset but not…crying on the floor hysterical to the gods. The people of Valyria are a lot stronger than most men and women I've seen."

"It's the dragon's blood," Daenerys jokes, but a part of it was serious. She knew that Valyrian's were of a certain kind of group. They were tougher to tear down because they had been through so much as this point. Losing a family member was almost like a past time when it came to war. It didn't take away the fact that they were still family, but it wasn't as large of a deal as it would be a family in another city.

She sees Jon chuckle from his reflection in the mirror before his eyes connect with hers from the reflection. "By the way…I can tell that Eleana did give you a nice bath. Your hair looks clean. But those clothes, uh…don't seem to fit you so well."

Her cheeks turn a dark red at his words and she glances at the ground, her hands fidgeting, looking askance. "Right, um…I didn't really want to wear my dresses after taking a bath." She looks over at him again through the reflection. "The marks…on my back, they were hurting so much and every time I tried to put a dress on, they would press against it. Even wearing my own training garments at first…it was too much. So I settled for your tunic and these breeches, and while it's a bit big…it's the only piece of clothing I can feel comfortable in right now."

She sees Jon shrug, before looking at her. "If that's what you feel okay in then no one is going to judge you. I just didn't know the real reason. Besides, I like seeing you in my shirts." She could see his lips turn upwards into a small grin, one that made her roll her eyes. Daenerys chuckles a little and glances at the ground.

"Well…I'm glad you like that." The woman swallows and then glances back at the ground, grabbing one of the dark red flowers, as well as a black tulip, from what she could see. "I didn't feel necessarily pretty today either, so the clothes fit my mental state."

"…you didn't feel pretty?"

Daenerys sighs and doesn't move her gaze from the floor. A part of her felt truly embarrassed for talking about this. She was a queen, for fuck's sake. She shouldn't be letting such insecure thoughts plague her mind constantly. But this was the first time in years she truly felt that something had changed deeply in her, and she was concerned he wouldn't move past it, just like he couldn't move past their relations at first.

"No, I didn't," she honestly answers, finally looking at him in the mirror. "I don't feel…the same kind of beauty anymore, knowing I have these marks." She sighs and glances away when his brow furrows at her remark. "I always prided myself on beating my enemies. No matter what, I always found a way around them, saw through their tricks. And now, we didn't see through them, for the first time…and I've been severely marked permanently because of it. I know that the marks will heal but they will most likely leave scars, and it's always going to be a reminder of the time we did lose. And it's almost like…the gods are laughing at me, like this is the beginning of the end or…something like that, I don't know." She sighs again and shakes her head. "I know it's stupid."

"Daenerys." His words cause her to look up, and she sees his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, but there was something different about it. One that made her still instantly. "Come here." It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.

She swallows and turns around to walk to him. As soon as she stands between his legs, his arms reach out and he holds her hands, pulling her as close as she could be, before settling her down on one of his knees. One of his hands starts to rub slow circles on her back, making use of avoiding the wounds so he wouldn't hurt her, while the other runs through her unbraided hair.

"First of all," he begins softly, his voice changing back to his familiar tone the instant he looks at her. "It's alright if you feel like that. They're wounds. They're meant to degrade you. People inflict them because they want to hurt you. But the fact is, you are here right now, and where are the leaders? Can you remind me?"

Daenerys rolls her eyes again but feels herself smile a little. "In the cells below us."

"Ah, yes, exactly." His hold on her tightens slightly, pressing a gentle kiss against the nape of her neck. "They are below us, and even though you were hurt, you still came out, standing." He looks up at her again. "Secondly, these marks, aren't a loss." He looks away from her and then turns her back to him. "Can I take off the tunic?"

Daenerys swallows. This would be the first time he properly saw them in the light. She had kept her clothes on in the cages while captured. "…yes."

His hands move his tunic from her body slowly, trying clearly not to scare her. As soon as she feels it reach her shoulders, Daenerys lifts her arms and lets him move it completely off of her, before tossing it to the ground. She mentally prepares herself to flinch when his fingers touch the wounds, but instead, the moment they do, a sigh of relief leaves her body. His touch was gentle, sweet, almost feather-like.

"These scars," he repeats softly. "Are stories of your victory over those leaders, and how you came out alive." Then, ever so softly, he presses a gentle kiss to one of them, causing her body to tremble. "That one is how you escaped and fought your way our alongside me." He kisses another one, a peck that had her tilting her head back, wanting to feel more than just gentle touches. "This one is the story of your children, fighting by your side." He places another kiss alongside the edge of her spine, against one of the more painful ones, but this touch only filled her with love, not terror. "And this one is the tale of your dragons and the people who support you, the ones who came forward to fight with us." He kisses another mark that trailed up her neck and kept eye contact with her, the intensity of his gaze causing heat to pool down below her. "And that one…is the legend of Daenerys Targaryen herself, the queen of the dragons…and the best of wives and best of women."

She feels tears edge at the corner of her eyes, but she pushes them back down, trying not to cry at his words. Jon brings his hands up to cup her face, looking at her with so much love it made her want to curl into him.

"Those scars don't define who you are, Daenerys. They tell the story of who you are. Trust me, out of anyone, I would know. They aren't ugly, or hideous, or terrible – they're a beautiful legend that bards will sing songs about one day. Gods, they probably already are."

He leans up and kisses her softly, this time on the lips, his hands resting at the edge of the breeches that she had worn. When he pulls away, his forehead stills against her own, his eyes connected with hers.

"Thirdly…" Gods, there was a third reason? "I literally could not care what you looked like, Dany."

Daenerys snorts, his voice change of low to high at the incredulous statement making her laugh. "Arya said that you wouldn't."

"You should listen to her then." Jon shakes his head. "I can't believe you thought I would care what scars you have on your body." His hands move from her hips to her face, cupping her cheeks gently. "Dany, you could have boils all over your body, scars along every inch of your skin, and be an old woman who is well past her younger years, and I would still think you were the most stunning and gorgeous creature to ever live. And if you think a couple of little battle scars is going to change that, then I need to show you how much that shit doesn't matter to me."

Daenerys laughs as he lifts her up, before pushing her against the bed this time, pinning her on the furs. His hands intertwine with hers, capturing her mouth in a kiss that had her head spin, full of soft and gentleness. It wasn't messy or desperate or needy, like many of their passionate embraces had been like. It just felt right. Like she had come home, after all of this horrible imagery she had felt with today.

His hands moved towards her hair, cradling her face in his rough hands. His lips were sweet and hot when he slips his tongue into her mouth, to which she had given a needy moan to his advances. Her hands flew to his hair, tangling in his messy raven curls, her nails scratching his scalp. He groans at the touch, a sound that went straight to her cunt.

Finally, his fingers move away from her face, down to her body, and dug into her thighs. He breaks from the kiss, his head leaning against her own, only to say a sentence.

"Spread your legs, Dany."

Her body obeyed instantly. His hands reached up and quickly undid the laces of the breeches she wore, before sending them flying across the room where the former tunic laid now. He settles himself in-between them, tugging her closer until her whole body was flush against his own, complete muscle. He leans up and kisses her again, each peck sending a wave of need over her body.

He breaks away from the kiss a moment later, causing her to moan as he moves his lips tp her neck. Jon would start to bite at first, leaving little kisses on the marks he had inflicted on her. He paused to suck at her collarbone, a movement that had her melting into a puddle on the floor. It almost made her blush still, and the very thought of being marked his, but she wouldn't want it any other way.

With every kiss he laid on her, she could feel heat taking over her body, his insistently hard bulge pressing against her now bare cunt. Pleasure would spark through her from her head to her toes, rubbing against his erection, feeling herself smile at the moan he said into her neck.

Her hands tugged at his own clothing, reaching for the tunic he had worn once he had gotten dressed. "Get these clothes off," she murmurs against his mouth. She feels him smirk against her lips, but he does as she requests, practically ripping off the shirt before sending it off where the other garments lay.

But at that moment, she completely froze, seeing brand new fresh marks along his skin. He had said that they had tortured him too…but she hadn't seen the damage.

"Jon," she whispers, her hands reaching out to touch them softly before her eyes connect with his own. "You didn't show me these."

"They were nothing compared to the pain I felt losing you," he responds, his arms wrapping around her. "I didn't care about my own body. I wanted to know if you were safe…they refused to tell me. Continued to hurt me." His hand comes back up to stroke her cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. "My love, don't cry for me."

"Of course I'm going to cry for you, I love you," she whispers. "I don't want you to get hurt for me."

"Dany, I would take a million knives to the heart over and over again if it meant I got to stay with you for the rest of my days," he says softly to her, running a hand through her soft tendrils of hair.

Daenerys sniffles at his words. It was strange how her life had worked. As a young girl, she always thought she would marry some snobby lord to somehow make alliances. Hell, even in Westeros, she thought that. But turns out she had married the love of her life. "And I you," she whispers.

She pulls at his body again, pushing him forward so that he was laying on the bed, resting her body gently over his while they kissed. A shudder traced down her spine as his hands moved along her skin, his legs nudging her own further apart with his foot. His hands cupped her behind, his lips a smirk against her lips.

"Such a perfect ass," he murmurs, almost more to himself than to her, rubbing a hand over her cheek. And then, he gave one of the cheeks a smack, a moan coming from her lips. Even after what they had gone through, feeling Jon still treat her just as he did before filled her with power. It made all those horrible thoughts she had go away, despite them wanting to return. But he was hers, undoubtedly.

"Gods, fuck me," she whispers against his lips. "Please, Jon."

He lets out a hum before pulling away. With a quick swift, he suddenly pins her to the bed, spreading her legs even further, if possible. "I need to taste your cunt first," he responds before diving in headfirst and licking her straight on.

The moan that escapes her almost sounded like a whore from a pleasure house, a fire within her being lit as he buries his face in her cunt. Her toes curled against the fur, her nipples as hard as stone. His tongue slid up and down her slit, drinking in the view, watching her with hungry eyes. He pulls her even closer, his head barely being seen as he slips two fingers within her, fucking her fast and slick while his tongue flicked at her nub.

It was familiar, they were, how he read her body like a novel. He knew every single little thing that had made her tick and every touch that had her coming. It was moments later that she was already writhing, arching against the furs, shoving more of her cunt onto his tongue.

"That's it, my dragon," he growls against her cunt. "Come for me. Let me taste you again."

That had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, obeying his command, her body snapping into pleasure like an arrow being released from a bow. The ecstasy that washed over her was enough to have her thighs tremble around his head while he lapped at her soaking juices. He kept her pinned to the ground, her body still while he kept her going. And he licked at her until she had to back away from the amount of pleasure that had soared through her body.

He wipes his mouth clean before moving back to the bed, causing a shudder to rumble through her. When he stands, she could see his breeches were still on, and she quickly moves forward to untie them, finally leaving him bare. His cock jutted out, aching, wanting, and hard. And a part of her still couldn't believe that he still got that hard for her. Even now.

He meets her in the middle with a soft kiss as soon as he leans down, running his hands through her hair. "You taste just as sweet," he murmurs as she tastes her own wetness against his lips. "The sweetest thing I've ever eaten."

The blush that grows on her cheeks was evident. "Even now?"

"Nothing could change that, Dany," he continues, smiling against her lips. "Do you see how much I want you right now?" He presses his lips once more to hers, pushing her back gently onto the furs as he did. "Nothing." Another kiss. "Will ever." A second one. "Make me." He plants a third. "Not want you."

Her head rests against the pillow while he settled over her, strong and smooth, with each movement coming closer to her. She could feel his hardened length running up her legs, to her slit, almost causing her to be wetter, if possible. "Please," she whispers, almost choking on the word. "I need you, Jon."

"Yeah?" he murmurs, his hand traveling to her cock to line up at her entrance. "You have to say something for me, Dany."

"Anything."

"Say…" He leans down and kisses the spot right below her ear gently, before whispering against it. "That you are beautiful."

Her eyes turn to his, surprised at his words, but at his serious glance, she repeats the words. "I…. I am beautiful."

"You are stunning."

"I'm stunning," she whispers, his lips coming over hers as she says it.

"And this," he continues, his forehead against her own now. "Is my cock."

The words make her almost laugh, but she speaks them anyway. "And this is my-oh, Jon!" she gasps, as he sinks himself deep within her in one swift motion, filling her to the brim.

She felt warm and complete, a feeling she had much needed throughout the day. He balances his weight against his forearms, a moan escaping both of them as he starts to move. Everything that had happened had seemed to evaporate into the air, into the wind behind them. The leaders, the war, all of their wounds and bruises – gone. The loneliness and the pain, and everything horrible.

Daenerys didn't know how they had survived without each other for so long. Being apart hurt too much. Being together felt right. Everything felt right.

She clenched around his length, trying to keep him in as deep as possible while he moved, pushing and pulling back and forth to hit her hilt. Daenerys spread her legs wider, her hands reaching down to claw at his back, urging him to move quicker.

"Harder," she pleads "Fuck me harder."

He growls at her words, pulling out only to slam back in, causing her to gasp in pleasure. He grinds his pelvis against her clit, making her eyes roll to the back of her head, meeting him thrust for thrust with each movement he did. Their lips collide as one once more, tongues tangling in a passionate embrace, before she suddenly squeezed him between her thighs, flipping them over.

She smirks at his surprised grunt, watching as his cock popped out from within her, still hard and wet from her cunt. She took his length into his hands and positioned it over her entrance, sliding down. His fingers instantly cling to her hips, his head hitting the back of the pillow. "Are you alright?" she asks him, her brow furrowed.

"Fuck, Dany, yes," he groans. "Just fucking perfect. Ride me, love."

Her heart clenches against her chest and she starts to move, clutching around his cock. "I love you," she whispers, looking down at him. "I love you so much."

"I love you more," he groans, his mouth latching to her neck before he drags his teeth down towards her breath. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, tugging it gently between his teeth, while his hand covered the other one, squeezing it. "Gods, I love your tits," he growls, his grip then moving to her hips.

"I love your cock," she purrs into his ear back, causing him to moan, a choked one that had her trembling from the sound.

He fucked her harder from below, his hips pounding against hers until he reached his climax first. Her name was heavy on his lips, one of the best sounds she would ever get to hear, feeling his cock swell and pulse as he shot his seed deep within her. And he fucked her through it, too, grunting like a wild animal, getting her to another peak.

His hands traveled between her wet thighs, his thumb rubbing circles insistently on her clit. "Come for me again, my wife," he growls, his words sending shivers up her spine. That's what she was, his wife. His love, his queen, his everything. And she wouldn't trade it for the world.

She shivers against him, impaling her body even harder if possible on his cock before she broke apart with one final push. Her cunt clenched around his again, milking him for everything he had left, a cry of pleasure leaving her body as she collapsed against him, his arms instantly coming around her to make her feel safe. She could feel his seed leak out of her as he moves her away from his chest to his side, her hair fanned out onto the bed like a curtain of silver.

Daenerys stares at him in utter love, shaking her head while her highs begin to come down from the world above her. "I can't believe I met you," she murmurs, her hands tangling with his own. "I don't know what I would have done if I never had this."

"We were always meant to meet," he murmurs. "There's no way we couldn't…we were always meant to be here, in this bed, fucking each other into oblivion, and loving each other until the end of our days, ruling over these people."

Daenerys smiles at his words, leaning forward and kissing him. "And what if we left it all behind?" she asks as she pulls back.

"Left…what?"

"All of this," she states, gesturing at the window. "If we…fucked off with the war, took our children, and went off to…Yi Ti, or somewhere far away? Would you still think we would be meant to do that as well?"

Jon chuckles at her words and rubs her shoulder. "I doubt you would ever do that, but even if you wanted to, I would follow you into the ends of the earth." She sighs and nods as he pecks her forehead, nuzzling neck.

"That's true…I could never leave these people behind." Daenerys sighs and looks back up at him. "But wouldn't that be nice? To live as a normal family for…just a day?"

Jon sighs and nods. "It would…and after this war, we will." He turns to her and kisses her side, before pressing a gentle kiss against her growing belly. "Once this little one is born, and we've won this war, all of us will go to Lys." At her raised brow, he rolls his eyes. "Not for the pleasure houses. For the beaches and the beauty around us…and for us to live as a normal family. Taevar can take the reigns for a week or so."

Daenerys chuckles at his words. "Is that a promise, Jon Snow?"

"That's a vow," he murmurs, kissing her once more. "And it's quite hard for me to break vows, as you know."

"Oh gods, do I." Her arms wrap around his neck, nuzzling his nose now. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank the gods you were killed…I don't think I ever could have resisted you even if you were still Lord Commander."

"Don't think I could have either," he responds, his hand gently rubbing her back.

The movement caused her to bit her lower lip gently, and she looks up at him with a soft smile. "So the scars…are stories, hmm? Beautiful ones?"

He could see the smile spread across his lips. "Absolutely gorgeous ones," he whispers.

"Well…then let's come up with some stories for your scars, too," she states, leaning up. For the first time that night, she felt truly happy, and of course, it was all because of her husband below her.

And at his smile, he nods, leaning up and resting her hand against his chest, affection, and adoration in his dark eyes. "Yes, let's."

---

Jon

The next morning came quicker than he thought it would, and he really didn't want it to. Because all Jon needed was his naked, pregnant wife in his arms and his children around him. With that, he could die a very happy man. But sadly, duty called.

When he woke up, the sun streaming into their chambers, he was the first to stand, seeing his sleeping wife still lost in her dreams. But as he came out of the bathing chambers to dress, he could see that she had woken up probably at the sound of him moving. But her eyes were directed at the rack of dresses that stood in the corner, almost taunting her.

He could see instantly where her worries were, so he gently walks over to her side and places a hand on her shoulder. "Wear my clothes, Dany," he urges her to do so. Daenerys looks up in surprise at his words.

"You're still alright with it?"

"One, if I had the injuries you have to your back, I wouldn't want to be wearing any tight garments either, and two, again, I quite like seeing you in my shirt," had adds on slyly, causing her to smile before shaking her head.

"Alright…I only worry what regular lords would think if they saw their queen in…well-"

"Fuck them," Jon states, shrugging his shoulders as he pulled his gambeson over his body, turning to look at her. "You could literally wear a burlap sack to a meeting for comfort and they wouldn't complain, because you're the queen. You have the power now." He walks to her side and grabs one of his tunics, before handing it to her. "Besides, I wouldn't want my wife in pain. I don't give a shit about dresses if it means they are going to hurt you."

Daenerys silently takes the tunic, nodding at him as she pulled it over her shoulders. It didn't take long for them to get ready after that, and her outfit was much like the one she had worn the day before. And he had a feeling it would be like that for a while with how bad the wounds were.

But he wasn't joking around when he said he liked seeing her in his clothes. There was something so…primal about it. Those were his garments on the dragon queen's body. It did something to him, lit a fire deep down, one that he tried to keep quenched for most of the day.

When they did arrive at the council meeting a little while later, they saw that everyone they could possibly need to discuss the matter was within the chambers. And by everyone, Jon meant everyone.

Rhaemon, Magar, Laemon, along with all the knights and many of the generals from the dragon's army were there, seated at one of the tables altogether. Taevar and Davos were near the head of the main table, along with Arya and Gendry. Kinvara had brought in a whole slew of what seemed to be the red priests, as well as some healers and sorcerers. And a couple of the regular dragonlord families that had been keeping the public in check had arrived as well. A couple of the leaders from the Dothraki had come in as well from the village to discuss the ground plans, ready to listen to their Khal.

Daenerys walks alongside Jon, as many of the people bowed to her and him. Outside their dragons flew past, growing quicker every day, before heading towards the forest. Jon knew that it was only a matter of time before they were truly ready to be ridden. He knew keeping Nesara off the back of her own would be a challenge. But it was one he was ready for.

When they arrive at where they would sit together, Jon looks over and sees Tyrion sitting next to Taevar, although free of his chains. While he knew he couldn't quite forgive the little schmuck yet, he knew that he had to at least give him some form of thankfulness for saving his wife's life when he couldn't. The dwarf had that going for him.

Once they sit down, Jon lets out a deep sigh, looking over every last person in the room, before he stands to address. Even so, as soon as he opens his mouth, the door to the room opens once more and he looks to see his children standing there, both Dan and Daemon, as well as Zaevar.

"I'm sorry we're late!" Dan apologizes, rushing in. "Daemon overslept – and Zaevar was with Mae. She went to go check on Nesara. Hasn't woken up yet.."

Jon waves his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter now. Take your seats."

The children nod and head to where they would sit, seeing how some of the dragonlords looked on in surprise at their own kin being there. But it had been Jon who had invited them personally. If it wasn't for their quick thinking, he and Daenerys would most likely not be here. They deserved to know what was happening in the war. They were warriors.

Jon turns to look at Daenerys and she nods in approval. She had mentioned to him at some point that the children should be included in what was happening, so now was the perfect time to do so.

He looks back to the group of people before throwing the discarded letter from the leaders onto the table. "This was an act of war, this letter," he begins. "We were foolish, naïve, and stupid to believe that this was only just a letter. After everything we have been through, the queen and I should have been a lot more careful…the leaders of Tyrosh, Norvos, and Qohor attacked us, nearly killed us, and were planning to take back their cities. Taevar and Davos, along with Dan and Damon, came just in time for us to eliminate their army, and come back here."

"Can I just ask," Rhaemon interrupts. "What did they think was going to happen after you killed them? They don't have dragons."

"No, they don't," Jon continues. "But they did kill the dragonlord families that were there – something we are going to have to replace and enforce much tougher in those cities until this begins to cool down. But from their perspective, I believe they wanted to insight violence and war onto the citizens of their cities by using our bodies as trophies, in a way – that the dragon queen and king can be killed."

Jon sighs and glances at the table, his hands folding and unfolding into fists.

"My former brother and now King of Westeros, Bran Stark, planned this with them. My daughter – if you don't already know this – has the gift of seeing. She's able to read into the past with any letter, and see what actually happened in that room at the same time…she showed me it yesterday after we arrived." He starts to pace, glancing at a map of Westeros they had gotten from one of the libraries. "Westeros has been a key attacker ever since Daenerys and I have been together. Even when we had no power, and nothing but one ship back to Meereen, Bran warged into a Leviathan and tried to kill us. He has sent men, assassins – even my own sister after us."

"I didn't know the truth," Arya explains at the looks she received. "I was under a false impression of the queen. That's all."

"Don't worry, we've forgiven her for this," Daenerys explains to the dragonlords. "She is completely on our side now."

"Even so," Jon continues. "No matter what, whoever converts to our side or not, Bran is going to continue to attack. He doesn't seem like he wants peace. He wants us gone. And now that we have power, he's going to attack even more." Jon looks over at Davos, and even at Tyrion, feeling guilt overrides him. "I know your purpose to ride here was originally to stage peace with Westeros and offer aid…but I don't think that's going to happen anymore. I need your input. Both of you."

Davos sighs quietly before he speaks. "I'm not the biggest fan of wars, you know that – the whole reason we arrived was that we wanted to avoid one. But you're right…Bran has changed. It's almost as if he wants to violence. I don't know if we could get through to him…killing him, and ending all of this together, would be our best bet at peace. Unfortunately. I don't want my family to be killed, nor do I want others to be injured…but he is leaving no choice."

Jon nods and turns his gaze to Tyrion. "What do you have to say, Lannister?"

The dwarf was quiet for a moment, looking between the gazes of the men and women in front of him. "Well…first I'd like to thank the king and the queen for letting me live despite what has happened, and not only that but allowing me to be at this meeting. I know that after everything that has happened, making that decision is hard to come to, but I am thankful, none the less."

Daenerys nods from where she sat. "It is your country. And you are the hand of the king. You deserve to know what we're doing."

Tyrion sighs. "See, that's where the problem lies. It's Bran." He looks over at the others. "I know what many of you may think of Westeros after all of this. That everyone there is horrible and wants to kill all of the Valyrian people, but I'm here to tell you that it's so far from the truth. Many people in Westeros aren't even aware that Daenerys is still alive. Some don't even think Jon is either. Word has spread across Essos, but because fewer and fewer people are willing to trade with the country, we haven't gotten that many people to even give us food, let along tell us of the risen dragon queen…when I tell you that people don't want a war, they really don't. It's the last thing they would want to do. But Bran is…different. The nobles are different."

The imp looks at the ground, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a moment before looking back up.

"When I nominated Bran to be king, he was a completely different version of what he is now. I saw him as the Three-Eyed-Raven, the boy who had given us good information on where the dead were. The boy who seemed to be non-biased in every single political war. I thought that if we put someone like that on the throne, he could turn everything around. And I was wrong. I admit that I was wrong. But no one could have predicted what has been happening under his rule – I thought yes, it would take time for the country to build itself back up, but never to what it is now. Where there's famine, death, destruction – there's blood truly everywhere. It's horrible. But he has become…a violent man, although he doesn't show it. He still has that same monotonous expression whenever he speaks, but the things he orders, or says he wants to do…I shudder thinking about it."

"What exactly does he want to do, Tyrion?" Rhaemon asks him. "What does he say? Or what did he say before you came here?"

"All I know is that he's mentioned burning down everything before," Tyrion responds. "Everything in his path, no matter what. He wants to end this before you spread, and he doesn't know how, but he wants to find a way. Bran is the issue in all of this – if he is killed, then the violence stops, someone else can take the throne, and we can be done with this."

"So you're saying that you want to kill the man that you serve now?" Daenerys asks with a raised brow.

"I want to kill the man that is regularly okay with what is happening outside his castle doors," Tyrion responds, his eyes glued to hers. "I want to end this, whatever it is that he is planning before it even starts. He is going to end up costing so many lives because of his power. It's consumed him – truly consumed him. If there was a way that we could get to him and take him out, that would be perfect, but I don't think there is. I…I only don't want the innocent people of King's Landing to be hurt. That is all."

Jon nods, happy that Tyrion spoke his mind. He was glad to see that at least he was starting to show some of his old brains from his earlier years. A part of Jon was concerned he was going to defend Bran in his actions, but after that, he was convinced he wouldn't.

"One of you," he states, turning to Davos and Tyrion. "Tell me of the regions that are still sworn to the king and tell me the ones that are not – the rebellion ones."

"Dorne is rebelling," Davos states. "As is The Stormlands, the Iron Islands and the Reach."

Daenerys raises an eyebrow in surprise. "The Reach? I'm surprised they are rebelling. Who is their leader now that House Tyrell has been diminished?"

Tyrion rolls his eyes. "Bronn of the Blackwater."

Jon feels himself let out a laugh. "The cutthroat? That man?"

"I owed him a debt," Tyrion states, letting out a sigh. "He aided us in many times of need. He's a skilled fighter – even trained my brother how to use a sword again after he lost his hand. And since there were no other lines of lineage there, I gave it to him. However, his people have been rebelling, even though he is the Master of Coin. He's said it's impossible to keep the men and women from speaking their minds, and they've decided that not even the food they do grow will go to places outside of the Reach. They've formed barricades."

"That's extremely important. They're the most fertile out of everywhere in the kingdom," Daenerys states. "It's no wonder so many places are starving."

"Do you see why all of this rebellion is a bad idea now?" Tyrion asks.

"Gendry is Lord of Storm's End, so he's leading the Stormlands," Jon states, looking at the map. "He has one of his advisors working on his behalf, as we know." He looks over at Gendry. "Do you know of anything serious that has been happening with your people?"

"I only know that food has been limited," Gendry explains. "Which, hearing about what is happening in the Reach, makes sense. Many are just refusing to pay debts to the kingdom until they receive the proper treatment, but some have resorted to violence."

"What about Dorne?" Daenerys asks. "Who leads them now?"

"That would be Ser Ryon Allyrion," Davos responds. "He was at the meeting when Bran was picked – he's one of the more powerful houses of Dorne, and his son used to squire for Oberyn. They were the next best choice out of everyone. And Dorne, well…they've always been fiercely independent but because of the lack of resources, they are the most likely to demand war for the exchange of the king's head."

Daenerys' brow raises in surprise. "Good gods," she mutters before looking back at the map. "Well, that should be interesting to see. And we already know who leads the Iron Islands. I'll have to send a raven to her to let her know what is happening and to gather her men. We're going to need her ships to transport this many people." She turns her gaze back to the two men. "And who are the ones staying loyal?"

"The Crownlands, Westerlands, Riverlands, and the Vale. And while we know the North technically isn't a part of the union anymore, they will remain loyal to the crown…but many are starting to show signs of turning," Davos states. "The Vale has always been off and on with the throne, but I have a feeling that because Sansa has a good relationship with them, and she has a good relationship with her brother, they will not turn until proven otherwise. The Crownlands has grown empty since the fall of the Lannister house, but there are still some people within there that support the throne no matter what. Both the Riverlands and the Westerlands have shown some small rebellions popping up, but the lords have done a better job of quelling them that quickly."

The two monarchs were quiet for a second, looking over the map before a ridiculous idea comes to Jon's head. "So we have four kingdoms that are revolting and five that aren't, including the North." He brings a hand up to his chin, staring at the lines dividing the kingdoms. "It seems that all we have to do is a little convincing."

"I'm sorry, my king," Taevar states, looking over at him. "But exactly what would be fighting this war for? What would happen after?"

Jon's brow furrows. "What are you talking about?"

"Alright, it's completely obvious that we all want to kill Bran and his supporters, correct?" To that, everyone at the table nods. "And other people do as well – but what happens after that? We agreed to help the people of Westeros before and while we can't necessarily do that now, what about after? Who takes the throne after we kill him? The kingdom will dissolve into anarchy if no one is picked and then our men are going to have to pay for that. And we surely can't allow the dwarf to pick out a new person after his last choice."

Tyrion nods, shrugging his shoulders. "Fair point."

"So?" Taevar asks, looking around. "What happens after? What do we do once Bran is dead?" He turns his gaze to Jon, raising his brow. "Are you two going to take over Westeros?"

Daenerys and Jon exchange a look, before turning back to their hand. "We aren't quite sure yet, honestly," Jon states. "Taking over Westeros would be hard to handle considering we are located so far away from it…it would have to be a complete move away from this city to there. There's no way we could keep peace from such a distance. But we could always pick someone new to take the throne. It's…complicated." He looks over at Daenerys, seeing her look of discomfort. "After what's happened to both of us, we don't know if taking over would be right…we would need to see the people's reactions to us first. See if we could somehow keep them in line…but that's not for some time. Right now, we need to focus on changing the minds of the people of Westeros…if we can even just convince the North or the Vale, there would be enough to outnumber the kingdoms that supported him down in the South."

Tyrion's brow raises in complete surprise. "And how, in the name of all the gods above and below, do you expect to convince Sansa Stark to bring her men south for a war that she is not a part of?"

Jon rolls his eyes at his statement. "Sansa is as stubborn as an ox, but I have a feeling that if I talk with her, we might be able to move her men south. If we can somehow convince them of the threat that is Bran-"

"You think that with a Stark on the throne, the North is going to turn against that?" Davos asks. "They've wanted to remain independent for years."

"Many are regretting it," Arya points out from where she sat. "Since Sansa hasn't brought in any new imports besides the ones we have been sending, most want to actually turn back to the crown for at least some help, but Sansa is unresponsive. I think she wants to prove something, I don't even know." Arya sighs before looking over at Daenerys. "I believe that the best way to convince them to switch sides is have them rebel against Sansa, honestly. We tell them about the food, but then we can also do other things, show the people how she's refusing help, making bad decisions…I don't want to go against my family but…they truly are leaving us no choice."

Jon reaches over and squeezes his sister's shoulder, feeling her sigh from where she sat. "Do we really think the North will bend though?" he hears his daughter ask, causing Jon to turn his gaze to Dan. "I mean, think about it. Even when mother went in on dragons to save all of father's people, they still didn't bend the knee. It's quite pathetic, really."

"She has a point," Daemon mutters.

"The people of the North are different now," Arya explains. "Many are of a changed mind. They want to see something new. They are tired and need changes as soon as possible. People are dying at extreme rates…this war will probably be better for them because they might get aid from us…maybe even convince them to follow us in our stead."

Jon bites his lip, listening to her words. "I think that's the way, honestly." He turns to look at the table and then at the people surrounding. "We separate our armies. My wife and I, as well as Arya, the children, and half of our forces can go up North and speak with Sansa, see their people and what is happening, and if we can convince her. Taevar, Davos, and the rest of you can go down south and speak with Dorne. Those are two extremely important groups of people that if we have them on our side, we can convince others to follow as well. Once we are in Westeros, we can somehow arrange a meeting with all of the rebelling houses, and see whom they think should take over in Bran's stead once they are dead…I don't think us ruling should be the best option right now. As of this moment, we are solely trying to kill Bran because he has killed our people. We need this to end before our safety is put into jeopardy."

"We could really scare them into submission," Daemon points out from where he sat. His choice of words surprise his father, and he looks over at his son in shock. "I don't mean murder them or bloody them. I mean…intimidate, I suppose. That's what our ancestors did during the conquest. We have multiple sorcerers and dragons – many common people will urge their leader to bend and follow after that."

Daenerys sighs, her hands resting on the table to point at the kingdoms. "And that's why many of these people are afraid of the Targaryen's now," she says softly to him. "We can't rely on previous versions of our family to reclaim a legacy and get people to follow us. We need to build on a different virtue."

Zaevar bites his lip before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't work." At his tone of voice, she raises her brow in surprise. Zaevar was usually quite quiet when it came to issues like this, and hearing him speak out was unusual. That meant he really felt passionate about it. "You and Jon have tried that with the Free Cities, and we know how some of those ended. You can't rule a kingdom with just kindness – killings and blood have to come as well."

"Your son is right," comes Kinvara's soft voice from the other side of the room, her red priests at her side. "I've seen the signs in the flames – many folks are stubborn, will refuse to change…it is up to you if you wish for them to see the world you want to build. Or else, they are going to die in their old one."

Kinvara stands, coming over to where the generals stood, along with Rhaemon.

"These men would die for you," Kinvara responds, looking to turn at the monarchs. "The sorcerers here would die for you. The people here, the generals, would die for you. Because you showed what fire and blood can do to people. You killed two monarchs that were out of control, but that wasn't with kindness – it was through fear. Through blood. And the people of Westeros will not be easier to contain – they will be much, much harder. I know of your feelings about the betrayals that have taken place, but the only way around this is through intimidation. The best way to ask yourself if these people would bend to your will is this – again, these men are willing to sacrifice their lives for this cause. Would the people of Westeros be willing to do the same if you won them over without the dragons? Or would the name 'Targaryen' bring the same amount of terror to them as it always had, and would they want to rebel again? I don't know about you, but I feel it leans more to the latter."

Her gaze spoke volumes, and while Jon wanted to disagree, deep down he knew it was right. He understood the North and the people around it. They were stubborn. Arya could speak about how some wanted a new life, but it didn't matter what the commoners wanted in the end. If the nobles didn't bend, there would be no change. And if the loyalty was from Targaryen's, there would be less chance of them obeying without some form of fear.

He turns to his wife, seeing the same look of conflict within her own gaze. After a couple of seconds of silence, she speaks. "I understand where you are coming from. Both of you." She makes a point to look at the two of them before continuing to speak. "And to an extent, I do agree. Fear should be used, as well as intimidation. But not on the commoners. We gave kindness to the villagers, and fear to the monarchs and leaders. That's always been what we do…I don't want to scare or harm any innocent lives in this. We need to make sure people are safe."

Kinvara sighs. "I don't know how you are going to do that in a war against the king. Something doesn't feel right about him. There is going to be a lot of death, no matter what. That I can at least feel from the flames."

Jon sighs, sitting back in his chair, looking away from the map. "Either way, we are still going to be sailing to Westeros. We have to start this with two of the largest groups, whether that be through fear, intimidation, I don't know." He lets out a puff of air, thinking of his former sister. "With Sansa…we need to rely on intimidation. She's stubborn, as I said. Daenerys and I…we could probably make quick work of her and the nobles if given the time. With Dorne, they would probably respect us either way. The North is an essential spot."

"Forgive me for intruding," Tyrion interrupts after a moment. "But might I suggest that you only send a couple of people to Dorne and not half the army…Bran could very well see what you are doing. If he noticed that you split your army in half, he might send men who are loyal to the crown after that other half. And remember – he does have scorpions and lots of them."

"He's right," Davos adds on. "Maybe even having the full army in the North will further push them to bend to you."

"Hate that bloody fucking power of his," Jon mutters angrily, before looking over at Daenerys. "What do you think, my love? Full army?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Tyrion is right," she states, rolling her eyes at the dwarf's tiniest smile ever. "Bran could very easily split our army in half if he has control over other creatures of that magnitude. We need to play it safe, and that means staying together."

Jon nods, agreeing. "Alright. Taevar, that statement of war, how is that coming along?" he asks him.

"All ready to be signed and sent off as soon as you two can."

"Good." Jon turns to Davos. "Daenerys and I spoke a little about this in the morning – your family. We want you to send a letter to them to meet in the closest water source to your residence. We will smuggle them away from the country so they can be safe, and you don't have to worry about them being affected by the war."

Davos stares at him in shock before nodding rapidly, a smile on his lips. "Thank you, both of you. You didn't have to think of me in this war."

Daenerys offers him a soft smile. "Of course we have to. You've been nothing but helpful to us in this whole endeavor. It's the least we can do." Davos nods in thanks before Daenerys turns her gaze back to her husband. "So assuming we do go to the North first and begin to work our way down to convince others, when would we leave?"

"As soon as we sign that declaration," Jon responds, looking at the people in the room. "I need to ask you all, though – this war could get bloody, and could very well end in many deaths, as Kinvara has said. Are you prepared for that? Are you ready for something like this? Will you fight with us?"

It doesn't take long for many of the men to start speaking, saying the same words over and over again of their allegiance, before Rhaemon instead sums it all up with a raise of his sword to the air, chanting, "For Valyria!"

Everyone in the room does the same, raising their swords or hands, swearing allegiance to the king and queen. "For Valyria!" The phrase repeats over and over, a chant of hope, of war, a song to sing in their nights after a long battle. Daenerys and Jon exchange a look between them, a smile. These were their men, their army, and undoubtedly devoted to them.

If they did this right, Westeros had no idea what was coming for them. And neither did Bran, with all of his power. They would end this war, give the people of Westeros hope again, and end his life…and maybe start a new one there, a new city with everyone here that they adored, but that was a conversation for another time.

However, their cheering was cut short when Mae suddenly ran into the room, breathing heavily, pushing past the crowds of men cheering and chanting to come to the room, where the three other children sat quietly with the parents. She runs up to Daenerys, trying to catch her breath, muttering fast words so quickly that Jon couldn't understand.

"My girl, slow down," Daenerys whispers gently to the girl, her brow furrowed. "What is wrong? What is going on?"

Mae swallows, taking a deep breath to calm herself, and looks between Daenerys and Jon, a look of fear in her eyes, tears starting to leak out and streak down her cheeks. "There was b-blood on the ground and – she's not waking up, I…I think the king got into her head, I don't know. I-"

"Mae," Jon interrupts, reaching out to grab her shoulder comfortably. "Just say what is wrong."

The girl takes another deep breath, her gaze finally turning to his. And then, in one word, she speaks her mind, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with shakiness and desperate pleas that it made Jon's heart drop. "Nesara is sick. Very sick. You need to come now."

---

Oh god what's going on now?

So the war is starting. And it's gonna be bad and bloody and I'm sorry but you're probably going to cry. I have so many ideas that are probably going to break your heart so I apologize in advance but for now at least we have some happiness. Ugh, I'm not even looking forward to writing this lmfao

As always, love it? Hate it? Want to send me off to the dungeons to be locked away forever? Let me know in the reviews, as they always inspire me to keep writing as quickly as possible for you all so you can read the next chapter in this story - you all are so amazingly awesome! Don't forget to follow or favorite if you would like 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 a great day! Wash your hands and stay healthy!