At the Red Keep…
Daveth and Tommen had begun their day in the courtyard—the two brothers had been sparring, with the eldest Baratheon instructing the youngest on the art of swordsmanship; albeit with practice swords. Although the sword material itself was entirely made out of wood, getting whacked by them still hurt and regularly stung if hit hard enough. So far, the Young Cub was struggling during his lessons.
Tommen flailed his wooden sword, which Daveth easily deflects and kicks his brother's foot out from under him and he lands face first in the dirt.
"Oomph!" he grunted upon impact.
Daveth looked down at him. "Don't lunge, don't cross your feet. You swing a sword like a girl with palsy when you do that," he lectured almost scoldingly.
Tommen pushes himself back up and picked up his discarded wooden shield, determined to keep learning how to defend himself. Day and night the Young Cub yearned to be great fighter like his older brother, but for some reason he never seemed to get any closer to that goal. He never held a sword in his life, but after what happened with the Sparrows… Tommen is actually trying his best to improve himself.
*POCK!*
*WHAM!*
Tommen raised his practice sword for a first strike, but his brother continued parrying a series of strokes whilst he was putting in too much an effort to try to breach his defenses. When he saw Daveth shift his position, Tommen believed he saw an opening and thrust forward but was tripped up again and fell face first into the dirt again.
*POCK!*
*POCK!*
*POCK!*
*WHAM!*
"Don't go where your enemy leads you. If the bait is obvious, don't take it otherwise you risk being led straight into a trap. Now get up."
Bruised, sore and covered in dirt, Tommen shook his head—clearly frustrated that he was deceived. After constantly being tossed into the ground, training to fight was showing to be quite difficult; on the other hand, though, Daveth did warn him ahead of time that it wasn't going to be easy nor would he show leniency considering his age. He reached out to grab the sword and got back to his feet. It took a moment to regain his balance before moving to swing again, but is met with a quick jab in the gut.
"*gak!*" Tommen gasped and fell to the ground holding his stomach as he felt the wind getting knocked out of him.
Daveth towered over him. "Oh for the love of— Tommen, there's a shield in your hand! Block with it or I'll ring your head like a bell."
"*cough!* *cough!* You didn't say you'd *cough!* hit me, brother."
"Well I never said I wouldn't hit you now did I? Had you started training with Ser Aron Santagar when he was still alive eight years ago, maybe then you would've made at least some progress. But now? If this was a real one-on-one fight, you would've been dead six times in less than a minute already."
"That's… *cough!* a bit harsh."
"Of course it's harsh! It's called reality. I'm out here busting my ass trying to teach you how to defend yourself because you insisted."
Tommen steadily rose to his feet. "Was this… how Ser Olyvar's training felt when he squired for you?" he asked.
Daveth shook his head. "You'll have to ask him that yourself."
As the two brothers resumed their sparring session, Grand Maester Pycelle approached; the sound of chains clanking against his robes could barely be heard—but the Young Stag suspected who it was that came his way.
"Oh, eh… A-apologies for interrupting your time of leisure. I o-only meant to inform you that th-the Queen is arriving in th-the harbor," the old man informed him.
Daveth and Tommen stopped mid-swing.
'Sansa,' the Young Stag thought. "I see. Have the other royal councilors ready to welcome her back properly," he turned to his youngest brother. "Tommen, that'll be all for today. Go get yourself cleaned up and fetch my son and daughter."
—15 minutes later—
Daveth and the Small Council advisors stood waiting at the docks, watching as The Winter's Voyage finally came into view and arrived at perfect timing. Lyonel and Cassana were being held by their father, though that didn't stop the royal twins from barely containing their excitement at being reunited with their mother.
"Mommy! Mommy!" the twins squealed.
"Shhh! Steady now, you two," Daveth told them.
The vessel soon docked and allowed its crew members to disembark via a gangplank. Once most of the luggage was unloaded, the attendees saw Queen Sansa descending the gangplank with Brienne, Olyvar, Lucius, Ariyana and Jeyne following close behind her. Even still Sansa emanated such elegance, grace and compassion. Her swollen belly was often hidden underneath her Northern fur cloak, but Daveth and Catelyn noticed it right away.
As Sansa steadily approached, both Lyonel and Cassana broke rank and protocol and darted towards their mother.
"Mommy! Mommy!" they shouted excitedly.
Sansa smiled warmly and knelt down and spread her arms wide to embrace her children. "Ooh, my babies," she cooed. "My goodness, look at how big you two grew! Were you good to daddy and grandma?"
"We wuv you, mommy."
"I love you too, little ones. Mommy's missed you both very much."
Sansa kissed Lyonel and Cassana's heads, though the twins goofily tried to reciprocate—with the Wolf Queen chuckling at their acts of affection. Catelyn watched her daughter and grandchildren in such a warm reunion; Daveth watched as his wife approached them with their children in tow. Once close, Daveth and Sansa give each other a hug.
"My Queen," he greeted.
"My King," she returned the gesture.
"Welcome back to the capital, Your Grace," Varys chimed. "I'm sure you must be soaked from when the storm hit."
Sansa shook her head. "Your concern is appreciated, Lord Varys. But I'm fine."
Brienne approached Daveth and handed Stormbringer. "Your sword, Your Grace," she said.
"Hmm. Thank you for keeping my wife safe, Brienne," the Young Stag gripped the Valyrian steel sword and fastened it to his waistline again. His eyes soon catch Jeyne Poole, who hid behind Sansa. "I see that your friend has… opted to accompany you back to King's Landing, Sansa. Might I ask what happened up in the North?" he asked.
What Daveth had failed to understand was how intimidating he must've looked in the eyes of someone who's been seriously traumatized. The moment Jeyne noticed Daveth staring directly at her, she flinched, broke eye contact, looked away and her body began to tremble slightly; Sansa noticed.
"I invited Jeyne to come here. She's going to be living with us at the Red Keep as one of my ladies-in-waiting… just until she finds her feet."
Daveth eyed the frightened Jeyne up and down. "Hmm. Until she finds her feet, she can stay as a guest of House Baratheon."
"Th-thank you, kind ser. I, I mean, Your Grace," she stammered. "I-I promise I won't get in the way."
"Then if that's settled, let's go back to the Red Keep. I imagine we all have a lot to discuss."
"With all due respect," Varys chimed, "I imagine you'd want to spend more time with your wife now that she's come home. Why don't you take a moment to enjoy yourselves? It's rather easier on the mind, body and spirit when the day's burdens are lifted off the shoulders of those who carry too much weight."
"Varys—"
"If it'll make you feel better, should any important matter comes to our attention you will be informed."
Daveth sighed exasperatedly.
—Later that night—
Daveth and Sansa shared a brief moment to themselves that night at the Red Keep. In their bedchamber they exchanged words of what the other endured while away from one another; the Wolf Queen informed her husband of the incident in the North, the elimination of House Bolton, Ramsay Snow's attempted coup d'état and the horrific abuses her friend Jeyne endured. Daveth, in turn, informed Sansa of the religious fanatic Sparrows, their attack on him and the traitor in the Faith of the Seven's Most Devout.
"Sounds like we both had to face our own trials. The High Sparrow and his followers," Sansa remarked.
Daveth nodded once. "I imagine having to deal with Ramsay was more difficult. Not just on the battlefield, but psychologically as well."
"It wasn't anything us Starks couldn't handle, love."
"I don't deny it. You Northmen are hard to kill."
"But even if it's just for a moment, at least we get a moment to ourselves; you, me and the children."
'Got to make the best of what you have,' the Young Stag mentally exclaimed. "Speaking of such, I… brought you something, Sansa."
Sansa blinked. "For me?"
Daveth stood from his seat and took Sansa's hand, escorting her over to the other side of the room. Pulling a curtain aside, Sansa's eyes widened and placed both her hands over her mouth in surprise at the sight: a mixture of flowers in a fancy decorative glass vase containing red roses, yellow daises, white lilies and lilacs and purple hydrangeas. Next to it was a crown of blue winter roses and a fancy crown resembling the ancient Kings in the North. The lit candles in the room emanated enough light to make them glow and shine.
"D-Daveth, I'm… speechless. I don't know what to say," she said surprised. "You did all this for me?"
"Shae and Bodrin helped me pick out which flowers you'd probably like. Had the forgers get every detail done on that crown. Well, that and our children drew you a few pictures—"
Sansa hugged Daveth. "Oh Daveth, sometimes I wonder what it is I possibly could've done to deserve you."
"Then does this… please you?"
She nods. "Mhmm. The gifts, you, our children… I think I have just the thing to give to you on our marriage anniversary." Sansa slowly guides her husband's left hand and places it on her pregnant stomach; currently three months along, she was showing a larger bump in her second first trimester entering into the next likely as if her body remembered from the first experience.
Daveth already knew this when he received the letter and looked at her. "Boy or girl?" he asked with a small grin.
"I don't know."
He then surprised her again when he placed both hands at her waist; Sansa looked down and noticed the two of them swayed from side to side. It wasn't until the Wolf Queen realized what it was her husband was actually making her do with him. On the day of their anniversary they were dancing atop the balcony with lit candles illuminating the area with additional assistance of the full moon.
Sansa couldn't help but chuckle with amusement. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Teehee."
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. I see you've been working on your dancing skills."
Daveth raised an eyebrow. "I take it you're going to laugh at me? We haven't danced like this since our wedding night. If I need more practice, I'll—"
"On the contrary, love," Sansa shook her head as they whirled with smooth grace. "Your dancing has improved much since then."
"Is it not a man's duty to surprise his wife on special occasions?"
"One of many qualities, but yes it's something most young maidens fantasize."
"Like you were once?" Daveth jested.
Sansa rolled her eyes. "Oh very funny, Daveth. Congratulations for ruining such a romantic moment," she placed her hand on his chest.
"Complain all you want. You know you're enjoying yourself."
The Wolf Queen gently shushed her husband and pulled him close, bringing her lips to his. Daveth and Sansa kissed. As they kissed, full of hunger and desire, their tongues battled for dominance.
"Mmm," she moaned happily.
Daveth wrapped hands around her waist and Sansa placed hers on his chest and around his neck. For a moment, they were lost in each other before they broke apart, just staring into each other's eyes.
"Happy anniversary, Sansa," Daveth said.
"Happy anniversary, Daveth," Sansa replied. "Daveth?"
"Hmm?"
"Your hand is on my ass."
Daveth blinked before he noticed his right hand was placed on her buttocks and quickly brought it back up to his wife's waist. "Oh. I, ah, sorry," he apologized rather embarrassed.
"Pervert. You never change, do you?"
"I swear I didn't do it on purpose."
"I know, love. I'm just teasing." Sansa rested her head on her husband's shoulder. "But still, thank you for the presents. It means a lot to me."
Daveth brushed his hand across Sansa's auburn hair; silky and smooth, his wife's hair had a soft delicate touch. He held her close and took in her scent, a sharp sweet fragrance with a hint of lemons, peaches and honeyed wine. Even in the embrace both felt how much they missed the other. The Young Stag lifted Sasna's chin up and kissed her again, though the tender moment was brought about by the sound of high-pinched whining.
"Eeew!"
Both Daveth and Sansa turned to see Lyonel and Cassana making disgusted faces.
"Who asked you to watch, pups? And what are you two doing out of bed at this hour?" their father remarked.
"No sleepy," Cassana whined.
"We wan' stowy!" Lyonel demanded.
Daveth rolled his eyes. Sansa, however, smiled.
"Okay. If mommy tells you a story, will you two promise to go to sleep?" she asked in a motherly tone.
Both twins quickly nodded their heads yes. Sansa withdrew herself from her husband's embrace and led Lyonel and Cassana to the bed and lay down beside them to tuck them under the covers. Once she was certain both underneath the bedsheets and their pillows were comfortably adjusted for them, Sansa motioned for Daveth to lay across from her with their twins resting in the middle—a request he obliged.
"All right, children. How about I tell you a story about Florian the Fool and his Lady Jonquil?"
Lyonel and Cassana snuggled in the bed and listened to their mother reciting a bedtime story for them.
"'Once there lived a maiden named Jonquil,'" she begun. "'She was beautiful and clever, but even if she looked like an old boot men would have gazed upon her with longing and sung songs of her beauty and goodness for she was the only child of a great lord.'"
Daveth propped his closed fist against his cheek, watching Sansa telling one of her favorite stories to their children. The twins looked purely innocent as their eyes slowly started closing; although they fought hard to stay awake, Lyonel and Cassana soon fell asleep when Sansa neared the end of The Tale of Florian and Jonquil.
"'And this time, she went with him. From the damp dark caves, from the noble skirmishes of Westeros, to the Golden Cities across the sea. And there they lived out their days together, free.'" She smiled at the sight of her children slumped over in their sleep, their small chests rising and falling. Sansa soon brought herself under the bedsheet and brought her arms around them, cuddling them in their sleep. "Sleep well, my little ones. Dream nothing but sweet dreams."
Daveth followed his wife, but instead wrapped his left arm protectively around all three of them: Sansa, their son and daughter. In his mind, if it was a mother's task of nurturing their children, then surely it was the father's job to protect his family from harm. The Young Stag and Wolf Queen gazed lovingly at each other as each of the twins turned in their sleep and cuddled at whoever was closer to them. When Lyonel nuzzled up against his mother, Cassana did the same with her father.
"Such a little mama's boy and daddy's girl," Sansa whispered.
"Do you think we've spoiled them?" Daveth whispered.
"Only time will tell once they've grown up some more. We're still learning."
"I suppose you're right."
Sansa yawned. "I love you."
"As do I."
Somewhere in the Riverlands…
On rich, fertile farmlands many men are seen performing various tasks pertaining to the construction of a church in their village while the women were busy preparing food. The small village in the Riverlands had no lord, no mayor… they all consisted of a local congregation under Brother Ray, a veteran of the War of Ninepenny Kings and a former mercenary reformed as a man of peace, becoming an ordained traveling Septon serving the Faith of the Seven.
"That's it. Get it to the top," one of the villagers motioned for the logs being lifted.
"Steady now. Steady," spoke another.
Brother Ray stood beneath the framing. "Up she goes," he addressed the two men hoisting up a log. He turns to another man and slaps him on the back. "Hey, come on. Put your back into it, huh?"
Before long, he turned around and walked a few paces away. Grabbing an axe, he lifts it up to a man standing on the church framing and waves them in. He hurries beneath one of the logs and laughs. In a field a little ways off, more men are carrying larger logs. One in particular—a tall, muscular man—dropped two heavy logs in front of the framing and wipes aside the sweat from his brow, revealing to be Sandor "the Hound" Clegane. No longer donning his signature dark heavy armor and instead an olive vest with light green shirt and pants, Sandor picked up a nearby axe and repeatedly swings it onto a horizontal log, sending wood chips flying everywhere.
"Look mister!" a little girl showed her doll. "Look what Brother Ray got me!"
Sandor huffed and looked down at the child. Normally his mere presence and size alone would've been enough to intimidate those around him, but for some reason the little girl showed no fear and displayed the exact opposite. Indeed, nearly everyone in Ray's congregation treated him kindly.
"Good for him," he replied simply.
"Want him to get you something too?"
"No."
Ray walked up behind him. "Haleigh, your mother's looking for you," he told her. As soon as she left to the village, he returned his focus to Sandor. "In all my days I've never seen a man swing an axe like that. How many men did it take to cut you down?"
"None yet," he replied gruffly.
"Yet little Haleigh show no fear of you."
"Strange. Good kid, but keeping people like her secluded and isolated will only serve as an eye-opener when trouble does come knocking."
"Maybe, but I think some of the men here are a bit afraid of you."
"I'm used to it," Sandor drinks an entire cup of water. "Girl wouldn't stop shoving her doll in my face."
"I presume that you were never shown compassion from a child?" Ray asked.
Sandor huffed again. "She said you gave her that. Well," he pointed at the gruesome burned facial scarring on the right side of his face, "my brother gave me this! I was 7 when he did that; pressed me to the fire like I was a nice juicy mutton chop."
Even the peaceful Ray was slightly disturbed. "Why would he do that?"
"Thought I stole one of his toys. I didn't steel it. I was just playing with it." A sudden mental image of a young Sandor Clegane playing like a normal child came into mind. "The pain was bad, but the smell was worse. That's not even the worst part. The worst thing was that it was my own brother who did it. My father, who protected him… told everyone my bedding caught fire. I wanted revenge. Been after it all my life… 'til that fuckin' trial robbed me of it," His face turned with disgust at the memory of learning of Ser Gregor's death at the Trial by Seven.
"What kept you going in life?"
"Hate."
"No matter how tragic your reasons for feeling hate or craving revenge, clinging on to that hatred will destroy you," Ray said. "No, I believe there's a reason you're still here."
Sandor spat. "Aye, there's a reason. I'm a big fucker and I'm tough to kill."
"No, I meant a reason. The Gods aren't done with you yet."
"I've heard that before, though Beric Dondarrion talked about a different God."
"Well, maybe he was right. I don't know much about the Gods."
"Then you're probably in the wrong line of work."
"Oh, there's plenty of pious sons of bitches who think they know the word of God or Gods," Ray laughed. "I don't. I don't even know their real names. Maybe it is the Seven. Or maybe it's the Old Gods up north. Or maybe it's the Lord of Light. Or maybe they're all the same fucking thing. I don't know. What matters, I believe, is that there's something greater than us. And whatever it is, it's got plans for Sandor Clegane."
Sandor just sat there and stares at Ray who nods at him and sat down on a stump next to one of the men.
"Believe it or not, I was a soldier once. Back in the War of the Ninepenny Kings 44 years ago," he continued. "All my superiors thought I was brave. I wasn't. I mean, I never ran from a fight. Only because I was afraid my friends would see I was afraid. That's all I was, a coward. We followed orders no matter the orders. Burn that village. Fine, I'm your arsonist. Steal that farmer's crops. Good, I'm your thief. Kill those young lads so they won't take up arms against us. I'm your murderer. I remember once a woman screaming at us, calling us animals as we dragged her son from their hut. But we weren't animals. Animals are true to their nature and we had betrayed ours. I cut that young boy's throat myself as his mother screamed and my friends held her back."
One of the farmers, Clarrik, looked up at him. "What happened next, Brother Ray?" he asked intrigued.
"One night, I felt such shame. Shame was so heavy on me. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. All I could do was stare into that dark sky and listen to that mother screaming her son's name. I'll hear her screaming the rest of my life. Now, I know I can never bring that lad back. All I can do with time I've got left is bring a little goodness into the world. That's all any of us could do, isn't it? Never too late to stop robbing people, to stop killing people. Start helping people." Ray turned to Sandor. "It's never too late to come back."
The Hound returns Ray's gaze but is distracted by the approach of four horsemen coming his way. Brother Ray turned and noticed them too; as the four men stopped, all villagers stood up as Ray moved to greet them. Sandor, however, recognized that neither of them carried any banners or wore sigils of their hose. They looked like a vagabond of outlaws, most likely an offshoot branch of the Brotherhood Without Banners. Either way, Sandor knew in his bones that something was amiss.
"Seven save you, friends," Ray greeted. "How can we help you?"
One of them, Lem Lemoncloak, wore a yellow cloak and was a big and brawny man with a bushy brown beard and bad teeth. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, we're talking about life. You?"
"Protecting the people."
"Well, we thank you for your protection. Who are you protecting us from?"
Sandor eyed each of them closely, but recognized one of them: Karrem, a butcher from the Crossroads Inn and the father of the boy he killed years earlier, Myach. Last time they met it was when Sandor fought Beric in a trial by combat and won. Although he was permitted to leave, Karrem never forgave his leader for letting his son's killer walk away and spent the next few years scouring across the Riverlands searching for him. They locked eyes with one another, one however yearned for a fight.
"None of your business, old man," Karrem spat. "Just stay out of our way. The night is dark and full of terrors."
Lem smiled wickedly and turned the horses around with his men as they rode off into the distance. Although Ray and his followers returned to their meals, Sandor, however, never took his eyes off of them. Deep in the pit of his gut, the Hound knew that their presence meant there was trouble afoot.
Whatever the case, Sandor felt his skin itch and flexed his muscles; should they ever return, the Hound will be ready for them; for only he was among Ray's congregation that recognized the four men as a threat.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Daveth is training Tommen and is proving to be a bit hard on him, don't you think? He and Sansa share an emotional reunion and spend quality time for themselves and their children for their long-awaited anniversary. At the end of the first half, Sansa told her twins a bedtime story and tucked them in. Think Daveth did his best for at least trying to make an impression for his wife upon her return home?
For the second half we witness the return of Sandor Clegane, the Hound. Although bitterly cynic and resentful that his chance for revenge against his brother has been permanently taken away from him, Brother Ray and his followers at least were willing to take Sandor in to at least try to reform him… that is until a familiar face returned; one who'll no doubt force the Hound to pick up his blade and go on the killing warpath again.
Next chapter will focus around the Second Siege of Meereen between Daenerys Targaryen and the Slavers Alliance. Stay tuned for more!
Also, I've been lately receiving comments in the reviews questioning a potential pairing between Daenerys and Jon Snow; now I've got no opinion on it and don't take sides per se, some among you have concerns about it. Please leave a detailed description in the reviews explaining why you're in favor or oppose to such a pairing so I could at least try to understand. Not something simple like "I don't like it 'cause it was fan service," but an actual reason why you either like or dislike it.
Beyond that, what are your thoughts? Let me know.
Bad Ass Female Fighter: I've been binge reading this for two days and I f*cling love every moment of it. Daveth just can't catch a break, can he? I hope Cat learns the truth about Jon, that way, she knows Ned never once betrayed her. Dany is in for one helluva time when she meets Daveth and Jon. That's gonna be a sh*tstorm to look forward to. Oh, and Jon should tell Daveth what he did to Joffrey.
Aries90: Just saying I know people want this to happen too because Jon x Dany but i don't think it will happen this time because Dany wants the throne but Daveth has it but they also need to deal with the white walkers with a actually united Westeros and Dany i think they can do it actually take on the white walkers but they just need to deal with that jerk Euron first is all once he is dead than maybe dany than the white walkers
Shark: While I'm not a Deanerys hater, I don't think the she and Jon should get together. She is threat to Sansa and her kids, who Jon loves. She is his sister and they have a better relationship bow. Robb is loyal to Daveth and Jon is loyal to Robb. It just wouldn't work out
Guest #1: Nice thing to wake up to
FleeingReality: Daveth x Sansa is a wonderful thing and I'm so glad you have written this story so that I could experience it.
O: Just kill Dany if you ask me every Targeryan (except for Jon because to me he is a Stark) should die. Look at their history it nothing but bloody except for the wise king Jahereys. When watching the show and read a little about the books, I finally understand her character. Due to her the stories she grew up listening to, she developed some form of God complex. I thought during her time in Essos will helped her to become humble but it only made it worse. The people treated her like a God and willing to die for. Which gave her fuel for her ego. Who kills unjustly, and does little to rule except something here and there.
Now we have will Daveth our favorite King is love/respect by the common and nobles. He is a little prideful but only in the small stuff. He saw a terrible king leading his country to ruin and refused to let it come to pass. He helps the smallfok in Kingslanding and help improve the smallfolk all around. He stopped rebellions and was always fair in his judgement.
And for people who belive JxD it won't work. Dany is to emotional. She burn kingslanding when she had won, while Jon is pragmatic who gives second chances.
RHatch89: Awesome update... as much I love the Jonerys pairing, the only way it would work in this instance is if after everything is said and done, Daenerys has wised up enought to know that she would have no supporters in Westeros and decided to return to the place that true
Moshi: As you said to explain, here I go. For one, I want to address something Oathmaker brought up, Jon's advice to Daenerys on the beach in 7.04, went one ear and right out the other. Not burning castles or cities does imply DO NOT BURN PEOPLE ALIVE, which she has done, repeatedly. (Still haven't caught up, so this is going to be based on show with a little book thrown in). In Astapor, she burned the master, reneging on a deal (which is not a good thing, it also established a pattern for her word meaning jackshit), gained the Unsullied, telling them to kill the Masters (in book, told them to kill those with tokars older than 12/13, aww how nice of her...). Then she makes her speech about telling them they could choose to follow her of their own freewill (which has been beaten out of them) while still holding the whip, yeah, think about that for a quick second. Sure she may have dropped it, but if they really had a true choice, we would have seen some choose not to follow her. Yunkai fell right back to the masters. Meereen is full of failure and we see just who she truly is, there is a reason GRRM has given his full blessings to the Meereenese Blot Essays. She murders 163 masters without trial, without finding out the bloody truth of who was truly behind the crucifying of those children, it's quite possible that most got away with it. She burned a man alive filling acknowledging that he could be innocent. She straight tells Hizdahr that she would happily return Meereen to dirt, not caring about innocents because they die for her good cause. That SHE is the only one who knows what is best...this was brought up again right before her death. It is the peak of an arrogant tyrant, for which in the book she is becoming. Her god complex is off putting. In season 7, Jon truly showed no interest in her, all romantic tropes were broken on his end, according to Kit, Jon was being more political in that season and he was proud of that, then by season 8, he is absolutely terrified of this woman he brought to his home. She threatens his family because they don't kiss her ass for merely showing up. She can't understand why the North or the Vale is hostile (Jon chose the North over the crown which implies that the Great Daenerys Targaryen WOULD NOT HELP without Jon bending the knee and this is true. Jon did not believe revenge or the bleeding truth was enough to get Daenerys to head North because they were still heading to KL after the Wight Hunt and when Jon tried to play equals, she bock, so he went subservient and she fucking preened. Then in KL, she still wasn't fully committed. The boatbang, which was lackluster but also, in an earlier script, she "requested" his presence in her chamber.). She dislikes that Sansa and Jon are loved by the people, that they TRULY inspire such. The fact that even drunk, with his parentage reveal, Jon can't bring himself to fuck her or later mean the words "I love you" which were said after Varys was burned alive and Daenerys threatening Sansa's life again (Sansa's very presence is a threaten to Daenerys, because Sansa is competent and cares deeply for her people) he couldn't even kiss her. This arrogant, entitled, brat of a woman is the love of Jon's life? Jon who shot Mance Rayder with an arrow so he wouldn't burn alive. Who banished Melissandre for burning Shireen, who said Winterfell belongs to my sister. Who still left Ygritte, whom he did love (we were shown this, NOT fucking told, which is a red flag) for the Nights Watch. The man who ALWAYS chose duty. The man who loves the Starks, who always wanted to BE a Stark. Would be perfect for Daenerys? Even on screen it was shown to be a toxic and abusive relationship where Daenerys held the power. It was like watching Sansa with Joffrey after her father has been executed.
Do remember that the more violent and brutal ways of the Freefolk disgusted Jon. Seeing Ygritte kill an innocent old man was a big turn off. Hearing Val state that she would have killed Shireen because of the greyscale made him wary. The Jon of season 8 (and parts of 7) was not Jon, season 6 Jon would beat the shit out of s8 Jon, s7 Jon would smack the shit out of s8 Jon wondering what happened to the plan and ask why the fuck did he not go to Sansa with EVERYTHING, Book Jon would throw s8 Jon off the Wall.
Daenerys Targaryen is the antagonist, she is the Fire of the title, the other threat. This has been foreshadowed since book one. The Starks (this includes Jon) are the protagonists, the heart of the story. Yes, he will have confront her, but falling for her, have this epic romance, that would go against everything that has made up Jon's character. Jon and Daenerys are foils, not some tragic romance. (If they were really in love, then that means Kit can't act romantically in love with someone, which is pure bullshit. What makes better sense is if he was told something completely different. Season 8 did him dirty.). That's my two cents.
Randa1: No creo que Daveth haya Sido duro con Tommen, recuerdas como Bruenne entrenaba a Podrick?, Eran muy similares las escenas (I do not think Daveth was hard with Tommen, do you remember how Bruenne trained Podrick? The scenes were very similar)
Hear My Fury: Great chapter. On the Jon and Daenerys pairing, I don't think it should happen mainly because story wise it makes no sense. Sansa is married to Daveth, Jon could just ask him for help. As far as Daenerys there's no one there to vouch for Jon like Tyrion. The whole reason why Jon didn't ask Cersei first is because he knew she would kill him the moment he stepped foot in the capital. That and she was pretty much responsible for his family's death. In this story, his family's alive and like I said before, Sansa is the queen. Plus and I know a lot of Dany fans will disagree with me on this, but Daenerys should be treated like Cersei, go full on Mad Queen. Because she has someone like Connington spewing out lies about the Baratheons and Starks. Plus she has no allies in Westeros, all she has are two exiled knights that don't have good reputations in the country, an army of sellswords that tried to take over years ago and finally an army of rapists and murderers. Just my opinion.
Oathmaker: Jon and Daenerys was an excellent pairing. Two young individuals who loved parallel lives, royalty banished from home and the throne (jon didnt even know). One banished to the heat of essos, the other to the winter wall. Both made allies of "savages" and have accomplished great things, yet both were ever lonely. They found each other, and found love. If it wasnt for the bad writing in season 8, maybe there could have been more to them. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing, yet when they are alone, they weren't so terrible. Jon advised Daenerys on that beach not to burn cities and melt castles, and Dany simmered down and listened. That's why they should be together.
Bio RL: How does the pairing work anyway? Jon betraying everyone to stand next to Dany? , it is impossible that the north is with jon in this story, besides it is not possible that daveth leave dany or his descendants alive since it would be a problem for their children.
(sorry the bad English I'm using translator)