Chapter 8 – The Calm

"The Night King comes," said Bran as he looked to the generals that were gathered around the table. "He comes for me." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the icy marks that were left on him. The handprint of the Night King forever engrained on his arm as frostbitten flesh that will never heal.

"Why?" asked Sam.

"Perhaps it's because I'm now the Three-Eyed Raven. He has hunted down the previous ones."

"What does he want?"

"I don't know," said Bran as he recalled his earlier encounter.

"We'll hide you where it's safest," said Jon.

"Quite the opposite. I must be in the open to lure him out, else his army will overwhelm us. I'll wait for him in the Godswood."

"You want us to use you as bait?" asked Sansa.

"We're not leaving you alone out there," said Arya.

"He won't be. I'll stay with him with the Ironborn," said Theon as he looked to Bran. While most of the Starks have forgiven his past crimes for saving Sansa, he still wanted to make it up to Bran for driving him out of his home all those years ago. "I took this castle from you. Let me defend you now."

Once Bran gave a slight nod of approval, Davos continued the strategy meeting, "We'll hold off the rest of them for as long as we can."

"What are our defenses looking like so far?" asked Jaime.

"Three lines of defenses; the first line is an unmanned barricade 250 meters out from the castle wall. It's mainly made out of wood and was quickly constructed by the refugees, but it'll stop their charge and they'll be sitting ducks to our artillery fire and dragon strafes," said Jon as he moved the pieces on the war board.

"The dragons should give us an edge on the field," said Davos.

"They have a dragon too," commented Tormund.

"We'll give Viserion the rest he deserves," said Daenerys.

"Why place it so far out?"

"It's so that the Dothraki have room to work with," answered Jorah as he pointed to the space between the first and second line of defenses. "We'll pick off any stragglers that break through the barricade and if it becomes too much for us to handle, we have room to retreat without trampling our own."

"The second line is a trench 100 meters out, once again stopping their charge but within the range of our archers now. Finally, the last line of defense will be manned with a chevron fortification made out of stakes and mounds 50 meters out. If that falls…" Jon paused for a moment as he thought about their chances of surviving if that happened, "we'll light up the trench so that we can have a full retreat behind the castle walls."

"The Unsullied will not let them through," said Grey Worm. "We have never failed before, and we will not fail our queen now."

"Let's hope it does not come to that. But if the time comes, Ser Davos and I will be on the walls, to give you the signal to light the trench," said Tyrion. "And if they make it past that…we'll need all the help we can get. Common folk, the wounded, even you Spider."

"We will pray for a quick death if it comes to that," said Jaime as Varys shot Tyrion a horrified look.

"Let's get some rest," said Jon when the room fell quiet. People filtered out of the room and before he had a chance to do so as well, Daenerys caught his arm. "Your Grace?"

When they were the only ones left, her grip and expression softened. "Something bothers you. What is it?"

Jon felt his lips dry as he avoided her eyes. "The Night King comes yet I still don't feel like we're ready."

"Is that all?" she asked again, her eyes full of concern for him.

The word 'no' was stuck in his throat. 'Is this what fath-, uncle felt like for seventeen years?', he thought to himself. There were still so many questions that he didn't know the answers to but at the same time, he was tired of bearing the burden of this secret by himself. This was something that Daenerys will have to know eventually, and it was better to come from him than from anyone else. "There's something I need to tell you," he said as he met her eyes. "My name…my real name is not Jon Snow…it's Jaehaerys Targaryen."

Her eyes grew wide from disbelief but now that the secret was out there was no going back. "Lyanna Stark, she wasn't kidnapped by Rhaegar, they were in love and they married in secret. After he fell on the Trident, she had a son. Robert would have murdered the baby if he had found out and she knew it. So the last thing she did was give the baby to her brother, Ned Stark. To raise as his bastard."

"Who told you this?" she asked shakily.

"Bran with his visions and Sam with records from the Citadel." She drew in another deep breath as she tried to process everything. "Believe me, I would not have kept this from you if I had known sooner."

"Would you have?" Her tone came out more accusatory than she had meant it, but her mind was getting hazy. Her whole life she had thought herself destined to sit on the Iron Throne, now her claim was seconded by a nephew that didn't even know he was a Targaryen.

"You think I want to sit on the Iron Throne?" Jon asked in disbelief, feeling hurt by Daenerys' doubt in him.

"Why not? You have the love and respect of the people here in Westeros. You are a fierce warrior and an honorable leader, while I'm the Mad King's daughter and the foreign invader."

"Dany, listen to me," said Jon as he took hold of her shoulders, "being king of the Seven Kingdoms is the last thing I want. All this burden and responsibility, I never asked for any of it. It has forced me to kill men that I respect. It has forced me to look at my friends in the eye and send them to their death. It has forced me to make decisions that have gotten me killed."

Everything Jon said made sense and Daenerys believed him, yet it did nothing to dispel the fear within her. Then she realized why; the thing she feared had nothing to do with his claim to the Iron Throne. "Is this why you've been keeping your distance from me?" she asked in a whisper so low she could barely even hear it herself. Ever since meeting Jon, he has felt like the home she had always wanted. She had felt a sense of belonging with him that she didn't feel anywhere else in the world, not even when she first landed on the shores of Dragonstone. "Has what we've done disgust you?"

His hesitance was all the answer she needed to hear, and the betrayal had felt worse than anything she has ever suffered. She was once again alone in this world. To find out that she had a family but to lose it all the same. Tears welled up in her eyes and for a moment it had seemed like Jon wanted to reach out to her. But she turned away before she could disgrace herself further in front of him. "Pardon me, My Lord." Daenerys left without another word and there was nothing Jon could do to stop her. As soon as the door closed behind her, anger and frustration consumed him as he slammed the pieces off of the war board.

He would have proclaimed his love for her a thousand times over before he found out about the truth regarding his parents. Ever since then, his whole world had been flipped upside down. The man he looked up to his entire life was lying to him the whole time. The mother who he dreamt of meeting is already long dead. While he has always cursed the way he was conceived, he was now the product of a union that resulted in the death of thousands of people. But worst of all, it was wrong for him to love the person he loved.

Down in the empty dining hall sat the two Lannister brothers, a cup of wine in their hands, in front of a fireplace. "I wish father was here," said Tyrion which earned him a humorously serious reaction from his brother. "I would love to see the look on his face when he realizes his two sons are about to die defending Winterfell."

Jaime thought about it for a moment before letting out a chuckle. Tywin Lannister would rise from the dead to stop that from happening. The irony is that he actually might. "It would be something to see."

"I remember the first time we were here," said Tyrion as he looked around. "First time I saw this hall, you were a golden lion, I was a drunken whoremonger. It was all so simple."

"It wasn't so simple," said Jaime. "I was sleeping with my sister and you had one friend in the world who was sleeping with his sister."

"I was speaking in relative terms."

"Do you miss it?"

"Of course I miss it," said Tyrion as he took a drink.

"Well, my golden lion days are done but whoremongering is still an option for you."

"It's not. Things would be easier if it were."

"And why not?"

"For one, I am still technically a married man."

"It was unconsummated," Jaime stated.

"But it was never annulled," Tyrion countered.

Jaime smirked, "So it's the Stark girl that has you walking the high road, eh brother? If you both survive this, perhaps you may resume your lovely little marriage."

"Don't tease me like this."

"I'm serious," said Jaime as he sat up straighter. "When this is all over, the realm will need to be rebuilt and to keep it stable, the great houses will need to have alliances tied in matrimony. You'll be the Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, and Hand of the Queen and she'll be one of the most influential people in the North."

"It's not about politics, Jaime. It could be the greatest political match in the history of Westeros, but it won't matter if she doesn't want to be married to me," said Tyrion as he took another swig of wine. "And let's be honest, the Seven Hells would freeze over before Sansa Stark degrades herself to marrying this imp."

"Don't speak of yourself like that."

"But it's true, isn't it? No woman will ever want to marry me. The only thing women have ever wanted me for was gold. Yet time and time again, I fool myself into believing it was me they wanted. That's why whoremongering is no longer an option," said Tyrion as he got up and went to refill his glass. "But drinking certainly still is."

"Tyrion…" But before he could continue, Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne entered the hall. "My Lady," Jaime greeted as he stood up.

"We didn't mean to interrupt," said Brienne, "we were just looking for somewhere warm to…"

"Contemplate your imminent death. You've come to the right place," Tyrion finished. Soon after, they were joined by Davos Seaworth and Tormund Giantsbane. They were an odd circle of characters, each with their own story on how they got here. "It's strange, isn't it? Almost everyone here has fought the Starks, at one time or another. And here we are at their castle, ready to defend it, together."

"At least we'll die with honor," said Brienne.

"I think we might live," said Davos to the laughter of the others in the room. "I do," he continued with a smile. "How many battles have we survived between us?"

"Ser Davos Seaworth, survivor of both the Battle of Blackwater and the Battle of Bastards," said Tyrion.

"All without a shred of combat ability," added Davos, to which Tormund agreed wholeheartedly.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, fabled hero of the Siege of Pyke," Tyrion continued.

"Fabled loser of the Battle of Whispering Wood," added Jaime as he got up to get more wine.

"Ser Brienne of Tarth, defeated the Hound in single combat." Brienne's brief glance away made Tyrion catch on to his mistake. "Pardon me, Lady Brienne."

"She's not a Ser? You're not a knight?" Tormund asked incredulously.

"Women can't be knights," answered Brienne.

"Why not?"

"Tradition."

"Fuck tradition," said Tormund with a shrug. "I'm no king, but if I were, I'd knight you ten times over."

"You don't need a king," Jaime cut in, "any knight can make another knight." That got the attention of the rest of the room, and one look to Brienne finalized his decision. "I'll prove it," he said as he drew his Valyrian sword and walked to the center of the room. "Kneel, Lady Brienne."

Brienne scoffed and tried to laugh it off, thinking it might be some kind of cruel joke to be played out like the ones from her childhood. But Jaime didn't give up, "Do you want to be a knight or not?" he asked.

As she was about to respond with 'no', she met the eyes of her squire that had gotten to know her over the time they spent together on the road. There was no use denying him that she wanted to be a knight, and there was no use denying herself either. It has been her dream, ever since she was a little girl. 'Fuck tradition', it's been something she has wanted to shout out to the world, but the world wasn't interested in what one woman had to say.

"Kneel," Jaime said again.

This time, she decided to stand up and slowly walked over to where Jaime stood. As she got onto one knee, the rest of the room got out of their seats to watch the sacred ceremony. She held her breath as she watched Jaime's grip tighten around the handle of the sword and lift it to place it on her right shoulder.

"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."

"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."

"In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent."

As Jaime said the words, he felt like he was renewing his own oath in a way. He reflected on the words; being brave doesn't always mean being fearless, sometimes, it means allowing yourself to be vulnerable and facing the person you've been running away from, even if that person is yourself. Being just wasn't about sticking to a single code of honor or oath; the right thing to do will never be spelled out for you, you must look within yourself to find it. Finally, it was a knight's duty to defend the innocent, whether it be from the king or your father. Jaime has failed on these charges many times in his life, but even now, it was never too late to change.

"Arise, Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms."

When Brienne got up, the rest of the room applauded her knighthood. While it paled in comparison to the times when a king granted the honor, Brienne could not help but smile as she overflowed with happiness. Her actions may not have changed the world, but she has proven herself to the people in this room and that was enough to show her that her efforts were not in vain.

Meanwhile, Gendry made his way to the archer's boards with a freshly reworked weapon that was wrapped in a clean cloth. As he approached the shooting range, he heard the bowstring get drawn and saw Arya practicing there by herself. "You got something for me?" asked Arya without looking back.

"Your Needle, new and improved," said Gendry as he handed her the sword.

"This'll work," she said as she examined the new obsidian coated tip. Despite the extra material, the balance of the blade was still what she was used to.

"Anything else you need, My Lady?"

"I don't recall you ever beating me to earn the right to call me that."

Gendry shrugged as he held out two sparring swords from behind him. "Give me another shot?"

Arya smiled as she put down her bow and caught the sword Gendry tossed at her. Ever since the first time Arya offered to help train him, the two of them have practiced together regularly. Gendry was a fast learner and he was happy to see his progress when the Hound grabbed a shield for the first time in one of their training sessions. He was still no match for Arya's speed though, as the smaller girl practically danced circles around him. When fighting Arya, it felt like trying to catch your own shadow and by the time he does catch her…

"Yield?" asked Arya as she looked down on Gendry who was flat on his back.

"I yield. I yield," said Gendry as he put his hand up but as soon as Arya removed the sparring sword from his throat, he quickly swept her feet from under her causing her to land on her back as well. She went to reach for her sword, but he anticipated that as well and got to her hands before she could get to her weapon.

"You said you yield," Arya said with a hint of frustration as she lied beneath him.

"You were the one that told me to make my attacks less obvious," said Gendry with a big grin on his face, given that this was his first time he was even able to land an attack on Arya. But then, once the adrenaline wore off, he realized the position they were in. With him on top of her, holding both of her hands down over her head. They were so close that he could feel her breath on his face; their mouths so close to each other that if he were to just lean down a little, he would be able to claim her lips.

His heart beat wildly in his chest and he looked for any sign of discomfort from Arya, telling him that he should stop. But her expression betrayed nothing, as she simply stared at his face as if she was just as mesmerized as he was. It felt like they were there for hours until Gendry finally plucked up the courage and went for it.

"Oh, apologies, My Lady. I hope I wasn't interrupting," said Beric as he stumbled upon the two of them. It felt like cold water had been splashed on the two of them as they immediately broke apart before anything could happen.

"Leave these two alone so that they can fuck in peace," said the Hound from behind him.

"We weren't doing that," said Gendry as he quickly got up off Arya. He expected Arya to refute them as well, but to his surprise, Arya simply remained silent.

"Didn't your father ever teach you how to get a woman?"

"I'm a bastard."

"You're right about that."

"No, I mean, my mother and father weren't married."

"Jon Snow's a bastard, he seems to be doing just fine."

"I doubt the king had time to leave the Red Keep to visit the boy," said Beric.

The Hound looked between Beric and Gendry for a moment. "You're Robert Baratheon's bastard?"

"You want to kiss my ass or lick my boots?" asked Gendry as he took a shot back.

For a moment, he wasn't sure how Clegane would take the jest, but the Hound bellowed with laughter. "He would have liked you. A lot more than the sack of shit the queen passed off as his anyways."

"Don't matter, I'm nothing like him."

"You may be surprised," said Beric. "He was once a great warrior; wielded a warhammer just like you are now. No man could best him in strength, not even noble Rhaegar Targaryen could withstand his fury."

"He was a fat, drunken, lecher the last time I saw him," said Arya.

"He was a shell of his former self by then."

"What happened?" asked Gendry.

"Lost the love of his life, Lyanna Stark. Never recovered from that," said Beric.

Gendry snuck a glance at Arya, he wondered what he would do if she died. Would he become just like his father? 'Slow down, you idiot. You don't even know if she likes you or not and you're here thinking she's the love of your life,' thought Gendry to himself.

Since they weren't being shooed away as they had been by the other soldiers, the two knights decided to stay. The Hound offered his wine sack to Arya as he sat down on a pile of hay, to which she gladly took a sip from. "I'm sorry we parted the way we did, both of you," said Beric to Arya and Gendry as he sat down as well.

"Is he on your list?" asked the Hound as he looked to Arya.

"For a little while," she responded.

"That's alright, I've died six times already. I don't have anyone to bring me back now, so having it end with you wouldn't be so bad."

"I heard about your friend," said Gendry, referring to Thoros of Myr, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"He is with our lord now," said Beric with a hint of sadness. "I have forgotten a lot from coming back so many times. The keep I once held, the woman I was meant to marry, but I never forgot him."

"To Thoros," said the Hound as he raised his wine sack without looking up at Beric.

Beric smiled and raised his own wine sack in reply, "To Thoros." His smile faded when the sound of the horn sounded. The Hound stood up and gritted his teeth when it sounded again. Finally, Arya and Gendry exchanged a look before the horn sounded for the third time.

"The dead are here."

*Author's Note: This took a long time to write since the revelation to Daenerys was an extremely important and hard scene to write, and it took me multiple attempts to get it right. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and let me know what you guys think of the story so far!

GulfYankee23: Thank you so much for all the kind reviews you've left and thank you for pointing out that error, I went back and fixed the previous chapters and I should be aware of it from now on! Reviews like these really motivate me to keep writing and I hope to keep on reading your reviews in the future!

Nick Vengoechea: Thanks for the review, I really do appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!