So I wanted to post this before the new season started, but I went away and I couldn't. In fact, I wanted to finish this part of my series before it did, but that didn't happen obv, but I'm still gonna stick to my original draft despite what happens on the show. Though (SPOILER) I wish I'd though of what Arya did with the rest of the Frey's. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Any who, on to my now Alternate Reality. Hope you like as much as I did writing this.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience,
your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gestures are things which enclose me…
your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers…

or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility…

(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses).

from Somewhere I Have Never Travelled by E.E. Cummings

Daenerys

æ

That night after King Jon had announced their engagement, once she was alone in her room with only her thoughts, she wondered if she'd made the right decision in waiting to tell him what she intended of his sister. In the short time she'd come to know him, it had become clear her proposal would not be easily met, nor won. Though her reasons were many, she was sure none would convince him in agreeing to marry his sister to another Lannister.

When he had told her of the Night King, she'd known immediately it was the leverage she needed, yet when the moment came, after he'd met Drogon, she hesitated to use it. She thought perhaps with time, and the proper amount of hinting and prodding she might get him to see the sense in her plan, and agree. Now however it felt deceitful to have omitted her demand, considering he would have little choice but to accept now that their union was declared.

By morning she'd nearly decided to come clean, that is until he mentioned that his sister would soon return, and it suddenly occurred to her that she might be more successful convincing him if Lady Sansa was present. Though it was not common knowledge yet, Daenerys knew of Lord Baelish's death and was certain she had to be a clever woman. Surely she would understand her intentions, and with her approval, convince King Jon to see it as well.

For now, she need ignore that persistent nagging only a little while. Lady Sansa would arrive soon enough.

Three days passed before Drogon's presence roused her from her slumber, and she knew he'd arrive soon. She'd not been sure he'd understood when she'd asked him in Valyrian that night, yet it seemed as if he had for though she had no such connection with Rhaegal, he was still her child, and she was sure she felt him as well.

She woke Missandei who slept in the adjoining room first, and then told the guard at her door to fetch his steward. She knew the hour was late but it could not be helped.

It would be far too cold for a gown, so she wore leather breeches and a fitted tunic made of soft wool, under her heavy cloak instead.

"What is the matter, your Grace?" Missandei finally asked as she helped her dress.

She wanted to tell her that everything was alright, but she was suddenly aware that was not the truth.

She was nervous, she realized. Her relationship with Rhaegal and Viserion was not entirely healed, and Drogon had been and still was instrumental in repairing the damage that she'd done. Though she was sure no harm would come to King Jon, considering Drogon, although begrudgingly, had accepted him, Rhaegal did not always obey her command.

"Rhaegal," She answered simply, as if that one word explained everything.

"You fear for the King's safety, your Grace?" She asked softly.

Somehow, Missandei understood. Daenerys nodded once, feeling exposed by the simple gesture, though she was not bothered by it, as she often confided in her friend.

"He will accept him your Grace, as Drogon does. Rhaegal and Viserion follow him in everything. Surely, this will be no different."

In the end, Missandei had been both right and wrong. Rhaegal had accepted Jon, but his reception had been nothing like Drogon's.

King Jon met her on the walkway surrounding the castle. She apologized for the lateness but he did not seem bothered by it nor tired either. He was anxious she knew, but hid it well. They took the path together, reaching the Broken Tower while the darkness was still thick.

They had not spoke much in the past three days, as the castle bustled with arrivals, smallfolk come to congratulate them, some with small offerings for their future. This lack of communication only compounded her festering guilt, so she decided she would give him something in return for her omission, a wedding gift of sorts. They reached the Broken Tower then, and as she wondered if this was the proper moment to bestow it, King Jon spoke.

"Will I meet—" He stopped, as he did not know his name.

"Viserion," She finished, answering his unspoken question.

She hesitated for a moment, but decided on the truth, "Someday, but for now, he remains in King's Landing."

Wanting to protect them in this land that still felt foreign to her, she had thought to keep all three at her side, only when the time came, and both Drogon and Rhaegal took to the air, Viserion would not fly. He would not leave King's Landing.

'Keep him safe,' she'd asked Tyrion, smiling sadly as she realized that in some small way, her brother was finally home.

Of course, he'd promised he would.

"So Drogon and Rhaegal, they've remained by your side all this time? " King Jon asked then.

She nodded, feeling no need to lie now.

"First in the Westerlands and then the Iron Islands. I' kept their presence a secret, as much as I could of course."

"And so you still have, your Grace. It seems no one saw your Drogon that night, but us."

She looked up at the sky after he spoke, the dark less black than it had seemed only moments before. She was relieved in that, she had gone to extreme lengths to ensure he'd not be seen, including sending his two closest guards on the wall away on a foolish errand. The orders had come from her own lips, to ensure they could do nothing but obey. This time she'd not had the chance, and she doubted she would be able to maintain their concealment for much longer if they did not arrive soon.

She turned to him, deciding she would not let this moment alone go to waste after all.

"I have written to Lord Tyrion of our engagement—"

"Lord Tyrion," He interrupted, a smile forming on his face.

"I had forgotten, in your arrival—" The grin vanished as his voice trailed off, as if he suddenly realized he was about to reveal too much.

After a moment, he continued, his expression composed once more, "He is well I hope?"

"As good as can be expected, ruling a freed city, though I imagine he is quite in his element."

His lips went up once more as he replied, "Surely. A fair replacement for yourself. I remember him to be a smart man, and honourable, despite—"

"Despite his Lannister blood, yes," She finished for him, though she both expected and understood his resentment, his family had suffered greatly by their hand, but she could not help feeling bothered by the mention.

"Though he is not the only one of course."

She hoped the implication was clear, and waited to see if he would dare to contradict her. By his expression, she could see her words had only managed to try his patience.

"I meant to say, despite his devil-may-care attitude, your Grace."

He took a deep sigh before he continued.

"But I will agree with you on both counts. Lady Brienne has told me of Ser Jaime's honour, and my sister might not be here today were it not for him, at least in part. Though it does not repair all that has happened, time, life and circumstance changes us all. For the sake of the realm, I am ready to make peace with house Lannister."

She did not have the chance to respond as Drogon descended in that moment, landing gently on the Broken Tower just as he had that night. This time however, he spared no glance to King Jon, and kept his gaze on her. She looked up searching for her other son, and found him quickly. In the ever lightening of the dark, his green scales glowed bright, almost like jewels, as he made his descent. When he landed with a hard thump inside the lichyard, she knew he would not go unseen any longer.

She looked over to Drogon then, deciding one dragon was enough.

"Vlaar," She said, her voice deep and commanding.

A low growl rumbled out of his throat, followed by a puff of smoke he aimed at King Jon, unintentionally she thought, but she could not be sure. Then he did as she asked, and barely disappeared out of sight.

"We must go down to him, and quickly," She looked over to him finally, keeping her expression calm.

Exhaling deeply he nodded, and extended his arm, "This way."

He lead her through a tower that reminded her of a drum, though it was much taller than it looked. Inside, it was in disarray and disused, so he let go of her arm and took her hand, helping her keep balance when the pass became too difficult to walk side by side.

As always, they walked in silence, though he would look over at her from time to time, twice a nervous grin fluttered his lips, before he looked away. They made their way down a set of winding steps that came to an end at a small door, though it hung half loose from its hinges. He let go of her hand to move it aside, and they stepped out into the yard.

It was mostly bare, though there were grave markers scattered about, some just piles of rock, others small tombstones with equally small inscriptions. Rhaegal took up near all the space, so it only took them a few steps to reach him.

She kept her eyes trained on her dragon, watchful but firm. He looked back at her, almost inquisitively, before finally turning to look at her companion.

They gazed at each other for a long moment, neither moving, and she began to feel as if they'd forgotten she was there. When suddenly Rhaegal bent his wings so his talons touched the ground, Jon did not react, only continued to stare at him.

And then, to her surprise, the dragon she'd named after the gentle brother she'd never known, lowered his head down, so his jaw nearly touched the ground by King Jon's feet. She was suddenly reminded of Drogon; he would take the same position when she intended to ride.

He looked over to her finally, and she could she see he was not sure how to react. She was not sure herself, for though she didn't believe it is what Rhaegal intended, one thing was clear.

"He does not dislike you," She said to him, unable to avoid the tone of surprise in her voice.

"Quite the opposite it seems."

King Jon turned to Rhaegal once more, but said nothing. After another long moment, Rhaegal rumbled softly, and lifted his head once more, finally gazing at her. He seemed ready to do what she asked of him, and as the sky was dark no more, she decided it was time he go. When she reached out to him, he drew his head down until her palm found the side of his face, and she felt his rough scales brush against her fingers. It had been so long since he had let her touch him and she could not help the broad smile that filled her face and heart.

"Vlaar," She said after a moment.

Rhaegal lingered for a moment longer before he finally raised his head and loosened his grip on the cold snowy ground. He looked to King Jon, who remained still at her side, as he rose into the sky.

æ

He had offered to break their fast in his solar instead of the Great Hall, so they could further discuss their agreement. The fire burned bright in the hearth as they ate, though he drank ale while she had taken a cup of hot mulled wine. The first time it had been offered to her, she had been reluctant to try it. In the end she had liked it, the combination of heat and spice warmed her from the inside out.

"What did you wish to tell me regarding your letter to Lord Tyrion?" He asked once their food was served and both his steward and squire had left, though the boy remained in the adjoining room likely taking his own meal.

"I have not yet sent the raven, it did not seem right until we spoke, and you agreed."

Her words had taken him aback but he waited for her to continue. She did not keep him waiting long and went straight to the point.

"I have asked him to write to the noble of each Great House so they may attend our wedding. Lady Olenna of House Tyrell, Ellaria Sand and the heir of Dorne. As well as Lord Jaime, and—"

She hesitated for the briefest of moments, knowing the last name would be taken the hardest, "Theon Greyjoy."

He tensed nearly instantly, "Is it not Yara Greyjoy who rules the Iron Islands?"

His words sounded vaguely contemptuous, but she did not let it bother her. It was understandable after all.

"Only just, so she cannot leave yet. Surely you must understand that, King Jon."

She took a sip of her warm wine, as she waited for his response.

"I do," He answered simply. "It is lucky you do not share such worries."

She almost smirked, caught more by his gall than by the suggestion. It was the first he'd ever bantered back, and she was surprised to realize she wanted more.

"I've not left my kingdom," She answered almost playfully, hoping it sounded as ambiguous as it did in her head.

By his silent expression, it was obvious it did, though his reaction was not the effect she'd hoped for.

"Not until I came to the North, of course," She continued suddenly nonchalant, as if she had meant nothing by her earlier words.

She returned to her plate, trying to remain indifferent but from the corner of her eye she thought she saw him smile.

"I take it I am to invite Lord Edmure and Lord Robin to attend as well?"

She wondered if that meant that he agreed but she could not bring herself to ask. Instead she only answered, "I admit that is what I want, though I hope you do not object."

King Jon sighed then, and lowered his cup, "For them, no I do not."

It was clear who he meant, but she did not address it, at least not directly.

"It is also my intention they swear fealty to you, and make amends, or at least peace."

He exhaled deeply, as if this only made matters worse.

"And I am to ask the Lord of the Vale and the Riverlands to swear to you in return," He replied, and it was impossible not to note that his words were statement rather than question.

In an effort to defuse some of the tension he'd built from her requests, she decided it was the perfect moment to give him his 'present'.

She nodded, "And the Stormlands as well."

His brows furrowed, in obvious confusion,"The Baratheons are all gone."

She took one last bite before pushing her plate away, feeling pleasantly full. After a sip to wash it all down, she finally spoke.

"But the kingdom is not. A new lord is needed, and I am sure you will find me a suitable replacement. Consider it a wedding gift from bride to groom."

"You wish me to name the lord of the Stormlands?" He asked, his uncertainty quickly shifting to shock.

"We will be married Jon, our kingdoms must join as well, in as many ways as possible."

After she'd spoken, Daenerys realized she he had left out his title, and the informality of her words left a sour taste in her mouth. He nodded but remained silent, his expression faraway, as if he were lost in thought, and she knew he had not noticed.

"They need not be a Baratheon nor of high birth," She spoke, hoping to return his attention to the matter at hand. It seemed to have worked as his eyes found hers.

She continued, "I am not concerned as I am more than confident in your judgement, but I ask nonetheless that he, or she, is trustworthy and honourable, and deserving of the position."

It was after a long moment that he spoke, his tone resigned, "I will write to Lord Edmure and Lord Royce."

She had to be sure he'd agreed, but since he had not said Theon's name, she knew it would be best to avoid it herself.

"So we are agreed then, your Grace, on all counts?"

He sighed once more before answering sombrely, "Aye, we are."

æ

By supper, word had spread of Rhaegal's visit like wildfire. She kept her head raised high when she made her way to the Great Hall and she felt gazes strong upon her, though no eyes made contact with hers. She was certain they waited with baited breath, to see if she would turn into a dragon herself.

King Jon stood when she entered the Hall, his dark eyes the first her own made contact with, holding his gaze until she was at his side.

As the meal began to be served, interest waned, though she knew by the hushed volume of their voices, their looks had merely turned into talk.

"Perhaps it is best this way," King Jon whispered at her ear.

She turned to him quickly enough that he was still close when she did, so that their faces were only inches apart. She gazed first at his mouth and then his eyes before he shifted back.

"How so?" She asked simply, a smile threatening at the corners of her mouth.

There was an audible gulp before he replied, "The next time Drogon or Rhaegal come to Winterfell, they will have had time to prepare themselves."

Then he smiled, "As much as one can prepare oneself for the arrival of a dragon, of course."

"Indeed," She answered, wondering when it would come to pass. Would she soon have need of them again?

"It has occurred to me Queen Daenerys," He spoke then.

"It is only right that I give you a gift as well, though I do not have a kingdom to bequeath you. I offer the Twins however, the castles guard an important pass in the Riverlands."

She tried hard not to sneer, "I am familiar with the Crossing."

Then carefully controlled her voice and added, "But I thank you King Jon, for the gesture."

It seemed she had been successful as he continued nonplussed, "I have but one request: that whomever you choose, marry one of the remaining Frey's, and find suitable living for the rest."

"Easily done."

She'd not expected this sudden bequeathal, but she knew already whom she would post there. It was exactly where she needed him, and what he'd been promised, wife and all.

After their meal, he took her arm and escorted her back to her chambers. With Missandei and two of her guards in tow, they did not speak much. She gazed at him many times catching his eye only when either spoke, trying to decipher who he was behind closed doors, this man she was soon to marry.

He was unlike any suitor she'd ever known. He was not bold nor impetuous like Drogo, nor was he deceitful and ambitious like Xaro Xhoan Doxos, and though gentle like Hizdahr Zo Loraq, there was strength and wisdom in King Jon. As for Daario Naharis, two men could not be more different, with no similarity between them save for how they made her feel, like one of her dragons, her blood burning, as if she too carried fire inside of her.

With Daario, it had been passion and lust, and the way he looked at her, as if she were the sun, beautiful and bright, but also powerful and dangerous. Now, with King Jon, there was fire, only of a different kind. He did not cower in her presence nor worship at her feet, they were on equal footing. As she felt the Targaryen in her fume in fury, she knew Daario had not been wrong.

She wanted him to surrender, not for control of the North, nor to appease her own ego. That moment in the Great Hall suddenly came to mind, when she felt his breath at her ear, and looked at his lips, and she knew what she actually wanted most of all.

She wanted to conquer him. Of that she was finally certain.

They reached her chambers then, and before he could extricate himself from her, she spoke.

"I think I would like to take a turn before I retire, perhaps I could walk you back to your chambers instead?"

He stiffened for the slightest of seconds, then glanced at her escort before he looked over to her. As expected, he only nodded.

"Missandei," She said then, turning to her, "Would you begin to prepare the bath for me please?"

She nodded and bowed to them both, though Daenerys was certain she knew her true intentions by the glimmer in her eye and the slight upturn of her lips.

After she was gone, she turned to her men, "Remain here, I need no guard as I am not leaving the castle. I will return soon."

They seemed reluctant to obey but bowed in acquiescence nonetheless.

"Shall we?" She said brightly, turning her eyes to him.

Again, he nodded.

They walked in silence at first, as he would not speak, and she though she knew some of his past from Lord Varys, she could only gauge the truth from his own lips. There was one thing she was desperately curious about, but knew she could never ask, not directly.

In the end, he spoke, "You were married once."

It was not a question, but she answered it as if it were, "Twice. Both arranged of course."

She did not need to tell him they had died, but she wondered if he'd ask how it had happened. She wanted to laugh, that she'd had the mind for discretion, yet he'd seen fit to ask her directly. As she meant to correct that error, he spoke again.

"Did you love them?"

She had meant to ask him of his own fated romance, yet the sudden memory of her Drogo momentarily distracted her, and she found herself answering instead.

"Once, with all my heart. A long time ago."

King Jon turned away after she spoke, not embarrassed by her words, but as if he understood them all too well. She gave him a moment, before she finally returned the favour.

"You and I share this in common, do we not King Jon?" She asked, trying to make her voice sound gentle.

He closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly heavy with guilt, before finding hers again.

"Once," He answered simply, looking forward.

As it so often seemed to happen, they walked in silence, King Jon likely trying to centre his presence of mind just as she was.

"I hope you do not mind me asking King Jon, what was she like, your wildling woman?" She asked curiously, the words popping out of her mouth almost of their own accord.

He smiled then, his expression bittersweet as he spoke, "Ygritte. She was exactly that, wild and free. Wilful and fierce, with a mind of her own."

She sounded like her Drogo, and felt for his loss. Considering it only fair, she spoke, "Drogo was much the same. I had never experienced such freedom, and safety, I am sure I would not be the same person if not for him."

"I cannot say the same as for safety, but the rest, perhaps the Wildlings and Dothraki are not so different after all."

"And not the savages they are often perceived to be," She replied, hoping he understood that like him, she did not believe such foolishness.

They reached his chambers then, thankfully no guards were posted as his door, so they remained alone.

"Thank you for the company, Queen Daenerys," He said then, looking down at her.

"It was my pleasure," She smirked coyly at him.

"Good night then your Grace," He spoke uneasily, as he dropped his arm letting her go, and bowed lightly before turning to the entrance of his room.

By his reaction, she knew that though she'd hardly set the mood, this was her moment. Before he could leave, she moved lightning speed to stand between him and the door. His hand held the knob, though he did not turn it open.

"Are you not curious Jon?" She asked gazing up at him, as she extended her arm, resting it over his, her fingertips light at his shoulder.

"Of what?" He tried to ask steadily.

He had not moved away, so she pulled him closer, and spoke softly, "Do you really wish our fist kiss to be at our wedding?"

Her other arm meant to find its way around his waist but his hand took hers instead and she could not help smirking at his attempt to resist her, but she locked her fingers through his, pulling his hand behind her back and pressed herself against him.

"No," He finally answered, his voice rough.

Then he let go of her hand and suddenly she felt his cool fingertips brush against her jaw as his other hand let go of the door and rested lightly at her waist, pulling her closer to him. He kissed her then, his lips soft against hers, before he pulled away.

Their eyes connected for a moment as he stilled, unsure if he ought to let go of her not. Not wanting that to be it, with her free hand she reached up to his other shoulder, hoping it was the invitation he needed. He dropped his arm until it too wound its way around her middle, and suddenly his mouth crushed against hers, this time his tongue entwining with hers.

Her fingers tangled at the curls near his neck, and she was certain she would never tire of the feeling of his soft lips pressed to hers. She could not be sure, considering the layers of fabric and armour between them, but she was near certain his body was reacting to hers, just as hers was to him.

After a few moments he finally pulled away, though he did not let her go.

"Perhaps we ought to leave something for the wedding day," He grinned softly.

She returned the gesture, and moved close to him.

"If you insist," She said before stealing another kiss.

a/n: Finally some fluff, am I right?! What did you guys think?