Hi everyone, thanks again for commenting and following our story! Here's chapter five and as always we own nothing...but if we did oh the possibilities.
Chapter Five- New Players-New Actions
Dany woke to a pounding head and quickly ran over to the chamber pot, her stomach roiling at the amount of alcohol she'd had the night before. As she retched over the chamber pot, she heard a groaning from the bed behind her. Pulling her hair out of the way she tried to keep her nausea to a minimum as she tried to remember what exactly happened to leave her in such a state. Sitting back against the legs of a chair, she finger combed her tangled hair and it hit her, blood of her blood, Jon was her nephew. And, he didn't seem to opposed to their relationship after learning about it last night. Remembering his hands on her body she had the vaguest sense that she had missed something the night before, but quickly dismissed it.
Jon rolled over on the bed, instinctively seeking out warmth and groaning when he didn't find any. The furs had slipped down to his ankles, letting the cool rush of the winter air freeze his bared skin. Flipping over, he looked at the ceiling and cursed the gods old and new for the aching pain in his head, he remembered Ghost's approval of Dany at the feast the night before, he remembered Bran's revelation (and wasn't that a startling surprise), and he remembered seeking Dany out after everyone went their separate ways, desperate to talk with her about how-how it didn't change anything he felt for her. Ned Stark wasn't his father, he was his uncle. Rhaegar Targaryen was his father. Lyanna Stark was his mother. Dany was his aunt. But with all of that, he was still Jon Snow, and Winter was still here. The Night King and his hordes of wights and White Walkers were on the march and the Long Night had come. His blood meant nothing if they were all going to die.
He'd died once, he knew what there was after death and that emptiness, he couldn't deal with that right now. He'd been going through life in a fog since the Red Woman resurrected him, but when he met Dany, his world seemed to ignite. She truly brought him back to life, and being with her and being back in Winterfell with his family around him, he couldn't bring himself to brood or angst over anything. Sitting up as he heard the continued sound of retching, he moaned as his head swum and nausea rose in him. Seeing Dany's pale blonde head hanging over the chamber pot, he felt something other than nausea rise in him, he was going to marry that woman.
"The ale not agree with you my queen?" he asked.
"You laugh now, but I heard you groaning, you'll soon be just like me," Dany retorted, her violet eyes flashing even as she sank back in an inelegant slump on the ground.
"Perhaps, though I am of the North, we know how to hold our ale up here," immediately regretting his words, Jon threw himself off his bed and barely made it to the pot. Dany tried not to laugh at the pitiful expression on his face, but it was difficult not to, his wild curls and pale expression made him look so miserable. But even getting sick and looking like a wildman, he was still beautiful. Her heart got caught in her throat, he was hers, and she was his.
Bran rolled his chair over to the table in the great hall, after emptying his stomach of drink that morning he was filled with ravenous hunger. Tearing into a piece of bread he hoped it would quickly soak up what was left of the alcohol, his head was still spinning. For the most part, the reactions of everyone last night were what he expected. Jon hadn't been too angry though, which surprised him, Jon was usually quick to anger and to brood, so his easy acceptance of his true parentage was rather startling. So caught in his head he didn't notice he had company until they spoke.
"Brandon Stark, I have to admit, your knowledge is something my little birds never could have given me, how do you see so much?" Varys questioned the crippled young man, his eyes boring into his skull.
"I am the Three-Eyed Raven, I am a greenseer. I have a connection to the Old Gods, and their presence in the North is strong, but they also exist in the South. Greenseers are rare, but we exist in the old lines of the North, and we can see visions of the past, present, and sometimes even the future. We can enhance our powers by looking through the connections that the Old Gods keep within weirwoods. Their seeds have spread far beyond the North, and what the weirwood trees see, so do the Old Gods, and so do I." Bran took a drink of water and nibbled on a piece of bread. "Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen were married in front of a Heart Tree in a grove of weirwoods on the Isle of Faces. They were married by a Septon, in the face of the Old Gods. Their marriage was true and born of love."
"Interesting, such powers would make you a very valuable commodity in King's Landing, Lord Stark."
"I am not a Lord, I am the Three-Eyed Raven, I can't be the Lord of Winterfell. The title passes to Sansa as the eldest legitimate heir."
Varys was quiet as he processed Bran's words, the things he could do with someone who could see everything, it would revolutionize the way spycraft. Of course with the knowledge that the Queen he served wasn't the true heir, that there was another, well...it changed things. Jon Snow was the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, but was he what was best for them? He knew so little about the White Wolf, and the man's relationship with Daenerys was troublesome. Would he abdicate in her favor, would she step down for him, would they fight? Or would they decide to rule together? So many questions, and with the Long Night here, and Cersei to deal with in the South, he didn't know where to start.
Tyrion walked with Sansa into the Great Hall, grateful that they could be so amicable in spite of their past. His former wife had turned into a shrewd and beautiful woman, and walking next to her after their early morning stroll, he felt the stirrings of old feelings he thought long quashed. Shaking his head, he banished the thoughts, he needed to be on top of his game after all the revelations last night, his plans for mass propaganda needed to change a bit. He wondered if the small folk would be bothered by the relationship between Daenerys and Jon, but then they hadn't been too bothered with the Targaryen's practices before now. And with Cersei destroying the Sept of Balor, the New Gods had far fewer septons to raise an outcry about the incestuous relations. Perhaps if he highlighted they only knew after they fell in love, any dissenters would be hard pressed to judge then, love was something most could relate to after all.
As Tyrion plotted and pondered his plans, Sansa sat down next to Arya and began to discuss the previous night's revelations.
"So Jon is our cousin," she started, reaching over for a lemon cake.
"Brother. So what if father wasn't his father, he raised him, he's our brother," Arya replied, glaring at her older sister.
"Of course, I just meant it changes things. Jon's heir to the Iron Throne now, he's not just King in the North. If we win this war against the Others, he'll go to King's Landing, which means one of us is the Lady of Winterfell, Bran's abdicated his position."
"You can have it. I'm no lady," Arya dunked a piece of bread in her porridge, Sansa was still stupid if she thought Arya would ever want to be a lady.
"Yes well I had to ask," Sansa replied, smirking as Arya bumped her, a smile creeping across her face, the old Arya shining through the terrifying mask she'd been wearing since she returned to Winterfell.
Horns sounded out, disrupting the quiet breakfast of those in the hall. Dany and Jon who had just entered turned on their heels, worry over what the horns could mean driving them to front gates. A guard ran up to them as they ran out into the light dusting of morning snow, his face panicked as he exclaimed, "Lannisters, your Grace, it's Lannisters with the Kingslayer, they're claiming to be allies." Locking eyes with one another, Jon and Dany nodded as one and turned to the guard as they called out, "Let them in."
Dany reached for her bond with Drogon and Rhaegal, calling to them to be ready at a moment's notice, just in case. Standing side by side with Jon, she straightened her back and drew on her Mother of Dragons mask as the gates opened and men wearing the gold and red of the Lannister lion rode in. At their head was the Kingslayer, but instead of wearing the golden armor of the Kingsguard he was wearing red leather armor and a thick black cloak over his shoulders.
Sansa and Arya ran up to join the two Targaryen royals, the various advisors and friends gathering behind them. Brienne stood behind her lady, hand on the pommel of her sword as she watched Jaime ride up and dismount before the queen. She feared for him, she knew the Dragon Queen was fickle in her moods and he didn't have the best track record of keeping his comments to herself. Twitching, she felt Tormund's presence behind her, the wildling leaning down to sniff at her hair. She wasn't sure how she felt about his attentions, especially after seeing Jaime once more.
Handing his reins to Bronn who rode up next to him as he dismounted, Jaime took a few steps towards the Targaryen Queen. Looking at her, he felt a twinge of pain at how much like her mother she looked, the same round face and diminutive height. His eyes went past her and stopped on Brienne, the woman's fearsome height and ready stance behind her lady a sharp contrast to the vision of beauty in the Dragon Queen. But her piercing blue eyes and strength, gods she was beautiful. Blinking, he turned away from her and focused his attention back on Daenerys and quickly knelt before her.
"My queen, I am afraid to say that Cersei has reneged on the truce, well…" he stopped and shook his head, "She never intended on keeping the truce in the first place. But I did, and am. I left King's Landing, with a price on my head. I've gathered what men I could, mostly those still in the Riverlands, and made my way here." Dany clenched her fist and looked over to Jon, his grey eyes were focused on the Kingslayer at their feet. He wasn't sure if he could trust the man before him, he'd attacked his uncle, pushed his brother off the Broken Tower, and broken nearly all his oaths as a knight, but he was here, he had come and answered their call.
"Ser Jaime," Dany started then stopped, looking to Jon to continue. Turning his fierce gaze on the Kingslayer, Jon picked up where she left off, "Ser Jaime, thank you for coming all this way. It doesn't surprise me Cersei betrayed us, I should have known a Lannister's selfishness knows no bounds."
"Ah, yes well… we Lannister are rather self-motivated, but survival against the dead, that's important. I agreed with what you said in King's Landing, we'll only survive this if we fight together, and so here I am," Jaime gestured out to the grounds of Winterfell with his golden hand. This was it, they would either accept him, or execute him, all he could hope was that they wouldn't hold it against his men.
"Ah get up you useless cunt," the harsh voice of the Blackfish startled many of those gathered as he pushed out from the crowd of Lannister's.
Looking over at the grizzled Brynden Tully, Sansa broke out into a grin, his red beard speckled with grey, but altogether recognizable. "Uncle Brynden!" she cried, and Arya startled next to her.
"This lump of Lannister shit helped me and my men retake Riverrun on the way here, your Uncle Edmure is around somewhere with his pretty wife and babe. If what he says about the dead is true, one-handed or not, you'll need him." Brynden's words rang in everyone's ears and Dany nodded her head in acquiescence.
"Prepare Ser Jaime and his men some rooms. We'll decide his fate after the Long Night is won." Her words set everyone in motion and the courtyard became a mess of flurried movements as people hurried to follow her bidding. The wind suddenly picked up, snow swirling in the air as a large shape descended from the sky. Red scales lit up the pale white snow as Drogon roared down from the skies to land on the Broken Tower, his head focused on his mother in the courtyard. Brynden recoiled for a moment as he looked at the massive dragon, his blood freezing in his veins as Rhaegal appeared over the other side of Winterfell and banked sharply, landing in a space quickly cleared by people.
Growling low in his throat, Rhaegal moved towards Jon who took a step back, partly in shock, partly to keep from raising suspicions amongst the new arrivals. Rhaegal huffed, a plume of smoke curling out from his nose and mouth and he turned away from the newly revealed Targaryen, obviously offended by the rebuff.
Jaime felt his heart jump to his throat as he saw the beast he'd tried to kill months before so close and stumbled as Brienne stepped before him.
"Follow me Ser, the Lady Sansa has people preparing rooms for you and your," she paused and looked over at Bronn, her face twitching in distaste, "friends." Inwardly, Brienne was pushing down her excitement at seeing Jaime so healthy and away from Cersei, hearing he'd finally left her loosened something in her heart she didn't want to examine.
"Brienne, how good to see you again, you look more fearsome than ever," Jaime grinned over at the warrior woman, his green eyes sparkling at her sharp glare.
"Yes, well follow me," turning on her heel she headed back into the castle, but stopped as Tormund stood in her path. Looking at the fire headed wildling, Brienne wondered once more what his problem was, he kept insisting she was beautiful and bringing her gifts, and while part of her wanted to believe his interest was true, that he wanted her, she knew it was false. She was no prize, men had been telling her that for years.
Tormund wasn't stupid, he knew he unsettled the woman with his constant attentions. But after crossing the wall and befriending the Crow Jon Snow and fighting against the Others, he cared little for any southerner pleasantries. The Long Night was here and he'd rather die after burying himself in such a magnificent woman. But seeing her stutter and stare at the one-handed pretty-boy lord made something boil in him. He'd just wanted a quick fuck with the gorgeous woman, he didn't want to have feelings for her. But it was too late, and over the past week he'd been contemplating how to steal her.
"Who's the pretty boy?" he grunted as Brienne blushed, the rosy tinting of her cheeks making his heart clench in his chest.
"This is Ser Jaime Lannister, he's come to help in the fight against the Others," Brienne responded, trying not to jump as the red haired wildling took a step closer to her.
"Ahh another prissy little southerner who thinks he's a fighter," Tormund sent a glare over at Jaime who took a step back, confused at the ire from a man he didn't even know.
"Yep, he is that," Bronn stepped forward and clapped a hand on Jaime's shoulder before turning to Brienne, "So about those rooms? It's been a long journey and I've been yearning for a bed and a wench, in that order."
Jorah groaned as he woke up, his head pounding from the roar of drink and one of his queens' dragons. Blinking at the light around him, he jerked fully awake, the last thing he remembered was going to the Godswood so how did he end up in the stables?
Watching Brienne dance between Tormund and Ser Jaime as she led them into the Great Hall for supper, Bronn leaned over to Tyrion who he'd sought out moments after settling into his new room.
"What'd you want to bet they start fighting over her before the war is won?" Tyrion taking a sip of wine spluttered at the sellswords words and turned to watch his brother circle the large woman, alternating between cow eyes at her and venomous glares at the wildling.
"Oh I don't think they'll last the night, I haven't seen my brother that enchanted since Cersei first spread her legs for him over twenty years ago," Tyrion replied, shaking his head as his brother tried to pull a tray over for the woman, stumbling as the wildling beat him to it.
"The standard bet?" Bronn asked, his eyes gleaming at the thought of swindling more gold from a Lannister.
"Agreed."
Tearing off a chunk of meat from plate in front of him, Bronn looked over at Tyrion and smirked asking, "So you fucked the Stark girl yet?"
"What?" Arya choked on her drink as she heard the sellswords comment. Turning to the Imp she leveled a glare at him as she snarled, "Have you fucked my sister?"