Tyrion

Upon hearing the commotion, Missandei immediately forced Daenerys back into her room, forcing her down onto the bed and checking her all over her body to make sure she was all right, despite the queen's assurance that she was. Varys swept from the room, saying he was going to consult his little birds in the kitchens about today's turn of events, while Grey Worm appeared having heard the news, immediately wanting to increase the guard outside Daenerys's room.

"Black Rabbit and Red Mouse will stand watch with me this evening. Then in the morning, I'll accompany you to your council meeting with Brown Flea and – "

"My friend," Daenerys cut him off gently. "You do not need to watch me all day. You'll need your sleep as well. I'll accept the increased guard if it will ease your worries, but I doubt my attempted murderer will try again. They've failed in their first attempt, and now they know I will be on the lookout."

"Are you sure you are all right, my queen?" Missandei asked, one of her hands flying to Dany's forehead. "You seem a bit flushed. Are you warm? Do you feel ill?"

Daenerys smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "I'm well, dear Missandei, but you are sweet to tend to me. I'd like to stand, if you don't mind. Take my hand, please."

Meanwhile, Tyrion sat in silent contemplation, staring at the inside of the now drained cup. "You know what they say about poison," He said to no one in particular. "It is the weapon of cravens, eunuchs, bastards…and women."

When he looked at Daenerys, her face had visibly paled and Missandei wrapped an arm around her, as if she were worried Dany might faint. "Cersei."

"Cersei?" Tyrion repeated. "You think this is her doing?"

"Her brother the Kingslayer just happens to arrive the day before an attempt is made on my life?" Daenerys said. "He says that he's switched sides, but how can I believe the words of an oathbreaker? This could've been their plan: send him here to distract me, so that one of her assassins could poison my wine. You have to admit the timing is suspect."

"It is, but…" Tyrion trailed off. He knew Jaime. My brother has done questionable things, but I know when he's being genuine. There was not a doubt in Tyrion's mind that everything he said to Daenerys in the great hall had been the truth. He had no hard proof, but in his heart he knew Jaime had nothing to do with what happened today. "I know my brother, Your Grace. I'm not saying you have to trust him right now, but please don't do anything rash either. Even if Cersei is responsible for this attack on your life, I don't think Jaime had anything to do with it. I believed what he told you."

"Perhaps we should fetch the Kingslayer from his cell." Grey Worm said, his face stone hard. "See what he has to say for himself."

Missandei shook her head, looking worried. She said to Daenerys: "I don't want him anywhere near you, Your Grace. I worry for your safety."

Daenerys gave Missandei a feeble attempt at a smile. "I do not fear him, my friend. If anything, he should fear me." Then, she looked at Tyrion. "Tell me, my lord Hand, can you prove that your brother is innocent?"

Tyrion swallowed. "I cannot. But Your Grace, I swear that if I genuinely believed he wished you harm, I would not let my personal feelings stop you from punishing him. When I became your Hand, I swore to always tell you what I honestly thought, and that is exactly what I'm doing."

Daenerys nodded. "Thank you, Lord Tyrion. I believe you – but I'm not ready to write off the Kingslayer just yet." She turned to Grey Worm. "Could you fetch him from the dungeons for me? I would like to look this man in the eye and question him."

Grey Worm nodded. "Right away, Your Grace." He turned to go, but when he opened the door there was somewhere already standing there, just about to knock: Brienne of Tarth.

The woman bowed her head. "Sorry to interrupt, Your Grace, but may I speak with you?"

Grey Worm was looking at Daenerys, silently asking if he should dismiss her and get Jaime, but Daenerys waved him off. She smiled genuinely at Brienne. "Enter, Lady Brienne. I regret that we have not spoken much until now. I've heard good things about you – your honor and loyalty are of great renown."

Brienne smiled. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Tyrion turned his attention away from the wine glass to look at the infamous Brienne of Tarth. He had seen her before but they had never talked extensively. He looked at the sword attached to her hip and immediately recognized the red ripples of the steel, the lion's head pommel with two glittering rubies for eyes. My father had that sword made for Jaime. He thought. How well does this woman know my brother? She spoke up for him in front of everyone. Brienne of Tarth's honesty and bravery was well-known, and he knew Sansa Stark kept the woman as her sworn shield and friend. Anyone who is brave enough to devote her life to protecting Sansa and say what she said about my brother is a friend of mine. Yes, Tyrion decided that he liked this woman.

"Lady Brienne," He said. "What you said yesterday, about my brother – I thought it was a truly touching testimony. The two of you know each other well, I take it?"

Brienne nodded. "Your brother saved my life many times, Lord Tyrion. I'm grateful to him for that. I don't think he's the person everyone thinks he is." She looked at Daenerys warily.

"Lady Brienne," The Mother of Dragons said. "I've heard many great things about you, and you don't seem to me like a liar. Do you think Jaime Lannister's intentions here are noble?"

Brienne of Tarth met Daenerys's eyes directly and did not hesitate to nod affirmatively. The woman is staunch in her defense, Tyrion thought. No one can deny that. "I don't think, Your Grace. I know."

Daenerys, too, looked as if she respected the woman's directness. "So you do not think he would be involved in a plot against me?"

Brienne seemed genuinely surprised by the question. "No, Your Grace. Is there some sort of plot?"

"It's just a question, my lady. Do you have any proof that Jaime Lannister is the honorable man you believe him to be?"

"I only know how I have seen him act, Your Grace, and how he has treated me in our time together. As for proof? No, but…" She hesitated. "Yesterday, I went down to the dungeons to meet with him, Your Grace. We spoke of Cersei, and I truly believe he is done with her. He wants to help, I'm sure of it."

Her chin quivered with emotion as she spoke. If I didn't know better, Tyrion thought. I'd swear she was in love with him. He looked away and stared into the depths of the wine glass, wondering that if Cersei did not plot against Daenerys, then who had? He dragged his finger inside, collecting the dregs, and then he froze. "Your Grace?"

Daenerys turned away from Brienne to look at him. "What is it, my lord?"

He gulped, staring at the remnants of a pale white substance, speckled with spots red as blood. "I know this poison. It's a ground up mushroom."

"A mushroom?" Missandei repeated. "Are you sure it is poisonous?"

"I am certain." Tyrion insisted. "A pain in your gut, an ache behind your eyes, and then you're dead…" He had collected them in Pentos, at that manse Varys took him to on their way to find Daenerys. He'd considered using them on himself when he and Jorah had been sold to the slaver, but he hadn't. The realization was sinking. Someone tried to kill my queen with mine own mushrooms. But who? No one had known he had them, not even Varys…

When he looked at Daenerys, her face was pale. "I will go." She said decidedly. "I will go speak to the Kingslayer…" She pulled away from Missandei but her handmaid reached for her, trying to pull her back.

"Your Grace – "

Daenerys stopped in her tracks and suddenly a hand flew to her head, like she had a headache. Tyrion sat up straighter. "Your Grace?" He said. No response. "Daenerys, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," She started to say. "Just a little – " But then her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her knees buckled, legs seeming to give way.

Missandei gasped and Grey Worm sprang to action, but it was Brienne who reached the queen first, catching her in her arms just before she could hit the floor…

Sansa

She woke up late that morning – late for her anyway, since she was usually up before the sun these days – and put on a dress and a fur wrap before heading downstairs to break her fast with Arya. She'd used extra rations to throw a meager feast the night Queen Daenerys arrived, so this morning they only took tea and bread, and her sister wasn't happy about it.

"Can't we at least have some bacon? Or an egg?" Arya whined. "I could barely sleep last night, so now I'm tired and starving."

"You're not starving, stop being overdramatic." Sansa said, finishing her first cup of tea and pouring herself a second. "And if you weren't at the smithy so late, then maybe you would've slept more." She spread some preserves on her bread, and when she looked up again Arya was staring at her.

"How did you know about that?"

Sansa shrugged and took a bite. "I could see you walking from my window. I'm glad you're supervising the production of the weapons, but you shouldn't be staying there so late." Arya gave her an annoyed look. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't be like that!"

"Be like what?"

"So…passive aggressive! If you have a problem with my relationship with Gendry, then just say so!"

Sansa nearly choked on her bread. "Excuse me? Who's Gendry? What relationship?"

"It's not like that!" Arya said. "Gendry's my friend. He's the smith who came here with Jon, but we knew each other before that. When I was with the Night's Watch, pretending to be a boy, remember I told you that? His master sold him to the Watch and that's how we met. He was the only one who knew I was a girl. We…" She trailed off. "We looked out for each other."

"Hmm." Sansa and Arya had talked about what had happened to them when they reunited, but Arya had been very vague. She hadn't mentioned befriending a smith while pretending to be a boy. But truthfully, it sounds exactly like something Arya would do. She thought. She's never been one for decorum. "So you're…just friends?"

"Sansa!" Arya cried. "That's none of your business!"

"I'm just asking! Sisters are supposed to talk to each other about boys they like…" She reached across the table to take Arya's hand, but her sister pulled away from her before she could.

"I don't like him like that." Arya said. Sansa thought the way she was blushing said otherwise, but she bit her tongue. "And even if I did…he doesn't look at me that way. I'm like a little sister to him."

Sansa tilted her head to the side and chewed thoughtfully on her crust. She reached out and pushed some of Arya's hair behind her ear before her sister could swat her hand away. "I know when we were younger I was…mean to you. About your appearance. But you are pretty, Arya, even if you don't think you are. If you would just put a dress on every once in a while…"

"Sansa, I'm not having this conversation with you!"

Sansa was going to object, but then she heard someone clear their throat and turned to see one of the Winterfell stewards standing in the doorway. "Lady Stark, Lady Arya," He said awkwardly. Arya covered her face with her hands, surely frustrated that the man had heard Sansa lecturing her. "Pardon me, but a raven came for the king. I thought he would be here."

The king. So Jon hadn't told everyone he bent the knee. Sansa stood up and smoothed her skirts. "I'll bring it to him, thank you Willem." She took the letter and looked at the seal: the roaring giant of House Umber. Last Hearth.

After they finished breakfast Arya stalked off to the training yard while Sansa set out to find Jon. She knew it would be improper to open his letter, but she was curious about its contents. She walked up the stairs and as soon as she reached the top she – literally – bumped into Tyrion Lannister. "My lord – I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going…"

"No need to apologize, Lady Stark. I'm a little distracted myself this morning."

"So you've heard?"

Tyrion nodded, his face grave. "I was with her when it happened…"

Sansa's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Her? I was talking about the letter from Last Hearth. What are you talking about?"

"The queen's handmaid." They continued down the hall on her search for Jon as Tyrion explained the story to her: the poisoned wine, the handmaid's unfortunate fate, Daenerys fainting. "She hasn't been taking care of herself." Tyrion explained. "She hasn't eaten since last night and she's barely had anything to drink. She's awake now."

"Should I go to the kitchens and get some food for her?"

Tyrion smiled at her. "You are kind to offer, my sweet lady, but Missandei is already taking care of that. I think someone has informed your brother – hopefully he can calm Daenerys down, she is adamant that this is Cersei's doing."

"Cersei…" Sansa mused. For years she saw firsthand the way that woman's mind worked. Other than Tyrion and Jaime, she was probably the one here who knew her best. "For once I agree with Queen Daenerys. I wouldn't put anything past Cersei. I don't like her, but I have to admit she is smart, and wouldn't miss an opportunity to strike. I learned a great deal from her about how to outmaneuver an enemy."

"Luckily you use your powers for good and not for evil." Tyrion joked, and Sansa laughed quietly despite herself, but then he grew serious. "Jaime has nothing to do with this."

Admittedly, Sansa did not know Jaime Lannister nearly as well as she knew his siblings, but she knew that he was…close with Cersei, to say the least. If there was some plot, they could be in it together. "Why are you so sure?"

"He's my brother. He's not perfect but I love him, I will always defend him against accusations I know to be untrue." Tyrion paused, biting his lip. "Surely you can understand that?"

Sansa had to admit she knew where he was coming from. Robb, and Bran, and Rickon, even Jon, who she had not thought too fondly of as a girl – she knew their characters and even if she did not agree with all of their decisions, she would never let anyone slander their names. But none of them ever stuck a sword through the back of the king they swore to protect…or harmed an innocent boy because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time…"Jaime paralyzed Bran." She said to Tyrion. "You know that."

Tyrion nodded. "If you wish to punish him for that, I would understand. But he admitted to it – why would he do that if he were still scheming with Cersei? I looked into his eyes, Sansa. I know he's changed."

The way he spoke her name was so familiar, so…so gentle, Sansa had to look away. "I trust you, Tyrion." I called him Tyrion. Not 'Lord Tyrion', not 'my lord', just Tyrion… "If you say he didn't do it, then he didn't do it."

He smiled at her, and that was enough to – reluctantly – get a smile out of her too. "Thank you, Lady Stark."

There were footsteps coming down the hallway and Sansa inadvertently jumped, as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. It was Jon. "Sister, Lord Tyrion," He said. "How's the queen?"

"Awake," Tyrion answered. "She didn't want us to tell you, but Missandei and Lady Brienne insisted you be informed."

Jon sighed. "She's stubborn, that woman. I'm going to check up on her."

Tyrion glanced at Sansa, and she cleared her throat. "But first – this came for you."

Jon took the scroll and she saw him blanch at the sight of the Last Hearth seal. "The Umbers - we haven't heard from them in quite some time." He broke the seal with his thumb and his eyes scanned the page quickly, eyebrows furrowed, before wrapping the scroll back up with a huff. Sansa stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but Jon was just staring at the closed scroll, looking worried.

"Well?"

"It's not from the Umbers - it's from Tormund and Lord Beric. The Night King reanimated Dany's lost dragon. The Army of the Dead has breached the Wall, and Tormund and Beric fled to Last Hearth, but…"

Sansa's heart sank. Last Hearth was the closest castle to the Wall, other than those owned by the Watch, hence the name: it was the last hearth for a traveler before reaching the Gift. Eleven-year-old Ned Umber was their lord now, after his traitorous father died at the Battle of the Bastards. The boy won't be able to defend them against an attack. Sansa thought. He has barely any men. "But what?"

Jon gulped. "Last Hearth has fallen. Tormund and Beric are on their way with the survivors to Karhold – they think the Night King will be going there next. To build his army."

Sansa didn't know if there could be worse news. The Night King has a dragon and a bigger army than before. If he gets to Karhold… "What are you going to do?" She asked Jon.

Her brother looked her in the eye and smiled humorlessly. "The only thing I can do: I'm going to Karhold to meet him."

Samwell

He shifted his medical bag from one hand to the other nervously before knocking on the Dragon Queen's chamber door. "Jon?" Sam called out tentatively. "Are you in there?"

The door opened, only it wasn't Jon who answered, but Ser Jorah. The older man nodded at him politely. "Nice to see you again. I know she'll be in safe hands with you."

"Thank you," Sam said, before shuffling into the room awkwardly. He wasn't sure why Jon had asked him to come when Winterfell had Maester Wolkan – Sam had only spent a short time at the Citadel, so he certainly wasn't a medical expert. "How are you?" He asked Ser Jorah.

"Alive," He responded. "Thanks to you."

Sam saw now that Daenerys Targaryen was lying down, propped up by pillows and in her dressing gown even though it was now early afternoon, Jon at the edge of her bed. He reached for her hand but she yanked it away, albeit reluctantly. "Do the two of you know each other?" She asked Jorah.

Jorah nodded. "Lord Tarly was training at the Citadel when I went there with greyscale. All of the others thought I was a lost cause, but not him. He treated me even though he was told not to, and he saved my life. It's because of him that I'm standing here with you now, Your Grace."

Daenerys turned to look at Sam, visibly shocked, and Sam had to glance away out of embarrassment. He didn't like receiving attention like this. "I…I did what anyone else would've done…"

The Dragon Queen shook her head. "No – most people wouldn't have done what you did. It was very brave of you. I am in your debt, my lord."

His face felt hot and Sam knew it was certainly turning red. They were all staring at him now – the queen, Jorah, and Jon, looking proud. "You don't owe me anything." He told Daenerys, and she laughed.

"You are too humble. Jon told me you've always underestimated yourself, I see he wasn't exaggerating."

Jon beamed. "Sam is the smartest person I know, truly." He told Daenerys. "I know you don't want to see a maester, but let him look at you. For me, please?"

The Dragon Queen rolled her eyes, but relented. "I just needed water, I will be fine now. Let me go with you to Karhold."

"I don't think that would be wise, my queen." Jorah interjected. "You're in a weakened state, and we don't know what we will find when we reach Karhold. At least if we fall, you'll be here to continue the fight."

If we fall. Sam's stomach churned at the mere thought of something happening to Jon. He won't die. He told himself. Jon is a survivor – he puts himself in danger, I worry about him, and he survives. That's how it's always been. Still, he thought he might like to go into the godswood later to say a prayer to the Starks' gods, asking them to ensure Jon's safety.

Once the queen agreed to let Sam look at her, Jon and Ser Jorah started to leave the room, but Sam impulsively stopped Ser Jorah by grabbing his arm. "I know Longclaw is your ancestral sword," He said. "But since Jon has it, I thought you might need some Valyrian steel. I have House Tarly's sword, Heartsbane. It's in my room, and I would like it if you would carry it into battle today. It's wasted on me."

Jorah Mormont smiled at him. "It would be my honor."

Once they were gone, Sam awkwardly fumbled with his medical bag. "So," He said to Daenerys. "Do you still feel light-headed or…?"

"Sam." The Dragon Queen cut him off firmly, pushing herself into a sitting position, knees to her chest. "May I call you Sam?"

"Umm…yes? Should I call you…?"

"Daenerys," She supplied, and Sam nearly stopped breathing when she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Jon speaks very highly of you. He loves you, you know. And from what I've heard of your loyalty and honesty, I already like you, Samwell Tarly."

He blushed. "Thank you, Your Grace. Err…Daenerys." Truthfully he hadn't had much time to talk to Jon about her, but he had heard stories. People who said the Dragon Queen was cruel, or violent, or frighteningly beautiful. Looking at her now, she doesn't seem so scary. Sam thought. She seems just like a woman. Jon seems to care for her very much…And it looked to Sam like Daenerys Targaryen cared for Jon as well, even if she had been wary of showing affection in his presence. I saw her run after him the night Bran told him about his parentage. She looked like she loved him. "I think I like you too."

Daenerys Targaryen smiled at him, but it faltered quickly. "I feel I owe you an apology, for what happened at the Battle of the Goldroad."

"The Battle of the Goldroad?" Sam repeated. "What does that have to do with me?"

The Dragon Queen frowned. "No one has informed you?"

"Informed me of what?" Now Sam felt nervous again. What could she possibly have to tell me about?

She was silent for a long moment, fingering the hem of her dressing gown, lips pressed together. "There is no easy way to tell you this." Daenerys finally said. "But…at the Battle of the Goldroad, your father and your brother were fighting with the Lannisters. When I won the battle I gave them the option to surrender, but they refused. Lord Tyrion offered to send them to the Watch and still they refused. So I…"

Sam stared down at the ground, feeling like he was about to throw up. "I need you to say it." He muttered. "Otherwise it won't feel real."

He heard her sigh. "I executed them. They're gone Sam, I'm very sorry."

"You're sorry?" As soon as he said it, Sam wanted to take it back, but he knew he could not. No, He told himself silently. I'm done being a coward. I'll say my piece and if she wants to execute me too, then fine. I won't lie and say I'm all right when I'm not. "I held no love for my father, Your Grace – not after how he treated me. But my brother…" Tears pricked his eyes but he willed them away. I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry. I must be strong. "I loved my brother, Your Grace. He was foolish and stupid sometimes, but he was also good, and kind, and loyal to a fault. I loved him, and now I must mourn for him."

To his surprise, the Dragon Queen did not rage or scream, did not get angry at him for what he'd said – she only nodded. "You do not have to believe me when I say this, but truly I am sorry for causing you any pain. War is a terrible, terrible thing. If you are upset with me, I cannot fault you for that, but I hope in time I may earn your forgiveness, Samwell Tarly. I know how much you mean to Jon, and I would never want to cause estrangement between you two."

Sam hesitated, then nodded. "I understand things like this happen in war, Your Grace. I hope you can also understand that while I do not fault you, I must also mourn for my lost brother. I know he made his choice, but it hurts nonetheless."

"And as for your father," Daenerys added tentatively. "I would understand if you miss him as well, in a way. I had a brother who was cruel to me at times, but yet when he was gone I still found myself missing him sometimes."

"Do you have any other family, Your Grace?"

"No," She responded sadly. "Only Jon. You still have a mother and sister, correct?"

"Yes. I would like to see them again, but…" He shrugged. "I have Gilly and Little Sam here, and I have to help Jon. I can't leave him."

Daenerys Targaryen tilted her head to the side and stared at him for a moment. Sam felt scrutinized under her thoughtful gaze. "Perhaps you could return to your family." She said finally. "After this war is over. As Lord of Horn Hill."

Lord of Horn Hill. Sam didn't even realize at first that he was laughing, as hard as if Daenerys Targaryen had just told him some hilarious joke. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious! You are the rightful heir."

"But…" Sam stammered. "I pledged myself to the Watch! I can have no lands, hold no titles!"

"Jon told me the story. Your father forced you to take the vows, isn't that right? How can I hold you responsible to vows you took under the threat of death? That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"No, I suppose not but…" Sam felt so confused. How could I be Lord of Horn Hill? He thought. Father never wanted me to have it, he never prepared me for it…

And yet, a little voice in the back of his mind was telling him to do it. You could see Mother again. It whispered to him. You could see Talla, and let her pick whatever husband she chooses. You could even marry Gilly. You could raise Little Sam at your home and let him grow up to be whatever he wants to be. Maybe you could even have more children…

It was more than Sam had ever dared to dream of, but now he could see it in his mind: Strolling through the gardens of Horn Hill with Gilly on his arm, lots of children running around them, Little Sam playing with his brothers and sisters. At night reading to his mother as she worked on her sewing, Gilly and Talla sitting and talking like old friends. Maybe Jon could even visit them sometimes, when he was king – he could bring his children and then they would become best friends with Sam's, just like Jon was Sam's best friend. Maybe the Dragon Queen and I could even become friends. Sam thought.

But then he remembered that they still had a war ahead of them, and the Night King was coming, and there was a chance these dreams might never become reality…

"I'll think about it." He told the queen. "Now, can we talk about why you fainted, Your Grace?"

"I told you, call me Daenerys." She corrected gently. "And yes, if we must."

"I know you said you feel better now, but have you had any other ailments recently?"

Daenerys shook her head. "No, but – " She paused, thinking.

Sam waited for her to continue, but after a long moment she still hadn't said anything. "But?"

"This is embarrassing…" She glanced at Sam furtively. "I did throw up yesterday. After the audience with the Kingslayer. Just looking at him made me feel ill…"

Immediately, Sam felt concerned. He looked at the queen and, blushing, wondered how he was going to ask such a personal question. "Forgive me, but…have your…breasts…felt swollen?"

Daenerys looked at him as if he had three heads. "Why are you asking me such a question?"

"I couldn't help but notice that the top of your dresses appear tighter."

The queen crossed her arms over her chest. "I suppose, but I'm about to get my moon – " Suddenly she cut herself off and her eyes widened. Sam could tell that they were both thinking the same thing. "No. It's not possible…I…I can't have children."

"Was your womb removed, Your Grace?"

"No, but – "

"Do you still get your moonblood?"

"Yes, but – "

"When did you last get it?"

"Before we set sail for White Harbor. Gods, that was…" She did the math in her head. "Almost two moons ago."

"And have you recently been…" Sam paused. "Intimate?"

"Before Winterfell, but…" Daenerys looked shocked, but Sam noticed that her hand had subconsciously come to rest over her lower belly. Deep down she knows it, even if she won't believe it. "Sam, tell me it's not possible."

Sam shook his head. "It's more than possible. Daenerys…you're with child."

Davos

Davos grunted as he and Gendry finally placed down the crate of dragonglass weapons – they'd only carried it from the forge to the yard, but the weight was incredible and enough to make Davos lose his breath. "Everyone needs to take one," Gendry instructed their forces, passing an arakh off to one of the Dothrakis, who looked impressed.

"White man makes good arakh." He said in broken Common Tongue.

As the weapons were passed out, Jon walked out of the castle with Lady Sansa and Lady Arya flanking his sides. "I'm coming with you to Karhold." The latter said stubbornly.

Jon scoffed. "You're my baby sister. You think I'm letting you go? We don't know what we're walking into. I won't be able to look out for you."

Still, Arya persisted. "I don't need your permission and I don't need you to look out for me! I can protect myself. I've been doing it for years and I'm still here."

Warily, Jon looked at Sansa, who only shrugged. "She's very capable." She said. "And I don't think you could stop her anyhow. She doesn't like the word 'no' very much."

After a moment's hesitation, Jon sighed and gave in. "Fine, but promise me you'll be careful." Arya smirked, seeming pleased with herself.

"Now," Sansa sighed, her eyes scanning their assembled forces. "Where is the Dragon Queen? Isn't she coming with you?"

"I didn't think that was a good idea. She fainted this morning, she's dehydrated. I don't want something to happen to her."

"Then what about the dragons? You can't seriously be going without them, not when the Night King has one."

Davos heard Jon curse under his breath. He clearly hadn't thought of that.

"He will be taking the dragons." Someone called out.

They all turned their heads as Daenerys Targaryen strode through the courtyard. She had thrown a fur over her dressing gown and Davos could see slippers peeking out from under her hem. Her face looked a little paler but if she felt weak, she wasn't letting it show.

"I'm still staying behind," Daenerys told Jon, seeing his worried look. "Sam says a little rest, and I'll be good as new."

Jon smiled at her. "So you've decided to finally listen to me?"

"I'm listening to Sam," The Dragon Queen laughed. "Not you."

Davos cleared his throat. "Your Graces," He said. "How exactly is Jon to take the dragons without you?"

The others looked at Daenerys, wondering the same thing, and she grabbed Jon by the shoulders, looking him in the eye. "I know you may not believe it, but you have all the power you need already inside you. You are the blood of wolves and dragons. Drogon knows how special you are to me, and he will follow you if it is my will. As for Rhaegal…" She paused. "Rhaegal has no rider."

Jon looked uncertain. "Are you suggesting that I…?"

Daenerys nodded. "I know that Ned Stark was your father in every way that mattered, but Rhaegar was your father too. It only makes sense for you to ride the dragon I named for him."

Still, Jon seemed hesitant. Lady Sansa looked surprised and unsure, while Lady Arya seemed almost excited at the prospect of her brother riding a dragon. Jon glanced at Davos, looking for guidance.

"I already believed that you could make magical things happen, Your Grace." Davos thought of that night at Castle Black, the night Jon Snow rose from death and was reborn. It was the most stunning moment of his life, and one he would remember until his last breath. "I believe in you. Until the day I die, I will believe in you."

Jon looked around at the Northern lords: Mormont, Glover, Cerwyn, and all the rest. "I'll have to tell them all." He said. Davos knew he meant about his parentage. No one outside of Daenerys's council, the Starks and Davos himself knew the secret.

Surprisingly, it was Sansa who spoke up. "If they truly love the North, they'll understand. Your father was Rhaegar Targaryen when they named you King in the North, even if they did not know it then. Nothing has changed. You were our king then, and you're our king now."

Jon smiled slightly, and looked at Daenerys. "How do I call them?"

"Just close your eyes." She instructed. "And feel it in your heart. And they will come."

Jon took a deep breath. "They will come." He repeated quietly.

Davos watched as Jon turned and faced the sky, closing his eyes and holding his breath, like a man silently praying. They all stared at the grey sky, waiting for a flash of wing or a glimpse of tail, and moments passed in pregnant silence. Davos was starting to think that maybe it wouldn't happen at all when, suddenly –

Drogon and Rhaegal cried out with a thunderous roar and swooped down into the courtyard of Winterfell, seemingly out of nowhere. The crowds parted, some of the lords letting out cries of distress, and the dragons landed with enough force to make the ground tremble. They landed in front of Jon and Daenerys and then, to everyone – including Davos's – astonishment, they lowered their heads in submission...towards Jon.

The king was unable to contain his smile now and he looked at Daenerys, who was teeming with pride. "Go on." She whispered encouragingly.

A hush fell through the crowd as Jon approached Rhaegal, running a hand across the scales on his neck. He muttered something to the creature, something Davos could not hear, and then he climbed onto his back. All around people began to whisper and Rhaegal reared his head, roaring. Davos could feel pride surging through him, watching as Jon stood up on Rhaegal's back and turned to address his people.

"A few days ago," He began. "I became privy to a secret that very few have known about, for twenty-three years. A secret my father, the late Eddard Stark, your lord, hoped to take to his grave. While Lord Eddard was my father in my heart, the truth is…that by blood, he was not my father, but my uncle. I am the son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Lyanna Stark, who was his wife."

The uproar commenced immediately. The Northern lords began to whisper to each other, some of them crying out in protest. "How long have you known?" Someone shouted. "How can we have a Targaryen for a king?" cried another.

"They should've named you Queen in the North!" said yet another. It was Yohn Royce, staring at Sansa through the crowd.

Lady Sansa, to her credit, retained her composure and addressed the anxious lords with authority in her voice. "As the rightful Lady of Winterfell, I say you should listen to your king." That shut them up.

Jon cleared his throat, then continued. "The North is my home. It always will be my home. I would lay down my life for it, without hesitation. That is why, back at Dragonstone, I bent the knee to Queen Daenerys Targaryen."

More commotion. Rhaegal silenced everyone almost immediately when he let out another great roar, Drogon soon picking up the cry. The Northern lords closed their mouths, some of them taking further steps back away from the dragons.

"I thought Queen Daenerys was our only chance of defeating the Night King." Jon explained. "But now, things have changed. The queen and I have gotten to know one another, and we know we are stronger together than we are apart. Together, we will end this Long Night, and then take the Seven Kingdoms together – for the people, for the North, as your king and queen."

Gendry's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Are you two getting married?" He whispered to Daenerys, but Arya swiftly elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to shut up.

"I understand if you are wary." Jon continued. "I'm still the same man I was before, but I know there were many misconceptions about my blood father, especially in these parts. If that changes your opinion of me, and if you want to leave, I will not stop you. No harm will come to you, on my honor as a Stark, on my honor as a Targaryen. But if you stay and fight – not for me, but with me – I swear to you that your loyalty will be repaid tenfold. Never again shall the Iron Throne belong to kings and queens who care more for themselves than they do their people. Together, we will usher in a new era for Westeros. An era of hope, an era of prosperity, an era of peace. Starting today."

For several moments, there was silence, everyone looking around hesitantly. Davos took a deep breath. Fuck it. He thought to himself. He drew his sword and raised it, saluting Jon. "To King Jon and Queen Daenerys!" He proclaimed. "The first of their names!"

Jorah Mormont was the second to take up the cry, removing Heartsbane from its sheath and falling to his knees. "To King Jon and Queen Daenerys!"

Then, little Lady Lyanna smiled wickedly, following her cousin's lead. Davos knew he had always liked that fearless little girl. "King Jon and Queen Daenerys!"

In a matter of moments the other Northern lords took up the cry, drawing their swords and falling to their knees, one by one. "King Jon and Queen Daenerys! Long may they reign!" Davos didn't know if he'd ever felt as proud of anyone as he felt of Jon in that instant.

Not a single one of the Northerners chose to leave.

The Northerners were unsure at first about riding a dragon.

Little Lady Lyanna, fearless as ever of course, was happy to volunteer to go first and Jon helped her on Rhaegal's back. Jorah went with her, since he'd ridden a dragon before beyond the Wall when Daenerys rescued him, and Jon instructed the dragon to take them to Karhold and then return. When the creature obediently did just that, the other lords seemed to calm, and they took turns riding on Drogon and Rhaegal's backs to Karhold, dragonglass weapons in hand.

Jon instructed Ghost to stay with Daenerys and protect her while he was gone. The wolf didn't seem to want to part from her anyway, remaining loyally by the queen's side, rubbing his face against her torso. "Such a good boy, Ghost." Daenerys murmured, scratching him behind the ears. "You want to protect us, don't you?"

From the queen's side, Davos watched as Ghost burrowed deeper into the fabric over her belly. "He seems to like you very much, Your Grace."

Daenerys smiled. "He loves to follow me around. I didn't understand it at first, but I think he must know – " She cut herself off abruptly and looked away, not meeting Davos's eyes.

The Onion Knight inched closer to her, lowering his voice. "How far along are you?"

"I don't know what you're – "

"Your Grace, my wife bore me seven sons. I know what it looks like when a woman is with child." As Jon loaded up the Northern lords onto the dragons, Davos had noticed how Daenerys Targaryen always seemed to have one hand folded over her belly at all times. Couple that with Ghost's sudden protectiveness of her, the newfound tightness in the tops of her gowns, and the pallor of her complexion that indicated she had been getting sick recently, and it had been easy for Davos to put it all together. "So, how far along are you?"

The Dragon Queen glanced in both directions, to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation. "About two moonturns."

"Congratulations." Davos said truthfully. The timing wasn't great, to say the least, but he firmly believed that children were blessings, even if they were unexpected. He looked over to where Jon was standing, the king saying something to Arya that was making her roll her eyes – probably another warning about watching herself. If he's so protective over his sisters, imagine what he would be like with a daughter. Davos thought. "Does he know?" He asked Daenerys.

She shook her head. "I only just found out myself. I don't want him to be distracted going into this battle."

Davos nodded. "I understand. Well, he won't hear anything from me."

"Thank you, Ser Davos. You are most kind. I hope you know how thankful I am for everything you've done for Jon."

"It was my pleasure, my queen."

Finally, there were only a few of them left: Jon, Davos himself, Arya and Gendry, as well as the queen and Lady Sansa, who would be staying behind. "Where is Lady Brienne?" The latter asked curiously. "I haven't seen her in quite a while."

"Here, my lady."

They turned their heads to see Lady Brienne exiting Winterfell accompanied by Lord Tyrion and two unexpected others: Jaime Lannister and the other man he had arrived at Winterfell with, both of them still shackled.

"Did I ever give my leave for these two to be released?" Daenerys Targaryen asked coolly.

"We have names, you know." The other man said, extending one of his chained hands as if to shake. "Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, pleasure." The queen only gave him a cursory glance in response.

"Your Grace," Tyrion piped up. "Since your unfortunate illness requires you to stay behind, His Grace is a man down. My brother and Ser Bronn are both capable fighters. Let them accompany His Grace to Karhold and prove their loyalty in this fight."

"And if you're lucky," Jaime Lannister added with a shrug. "Maybe I'll die in battle and you'll finally be rid of me." Lady Brienne shot him a look, as if she didn't think his jest was very funny.

To Davos's surprise, Daenerys Targaryen looked at him. "You are King Jon's most trusted councillor. Do you think I should accept this offer?"

Everyone was looking at him now. Davos didn't know if he would ever get used to highborns asking him what he thought. In some ways, he still felt like a smuggler from Flea Bottom, not a king and queen's advisor. "Your Grace, I think every man deserves a chance to prove himself. Let them accompany King Jon into battle and their lives shall be placed in the gods' hands. They will decide their fate."

Daenerys Targaryen smirked and said nothing for a moment, before looking to her Hand. "Remove their chains."

Jaime Lannister and Ser Bronn were unshackled, and Jon helped the others board the dragons' backs. "Are you ready, Ser Davos?" Jon called to him. It was only then that he realized he was the last to board.

He'd never sat on top of a dragon before. He found himself holding his breath as he straddled the creature, so great and majestic below him. Gendry turned around to look at him. "Growing up in Flea Bottom, did you ever think we'd end up here?"

Davos snorted. "Fuck no."

They were ready to go now, but before Jon could climb onto Rhaegal, Daenerys Targaryen called out. "Jon, wait!" She surprised Davos – and Jon as well, it seemed – by running over to Jon and pulling his face down so she could kiss him on the lips. "Be safe today. Come back to us, Jon Snow."

Jon still seemed stunned from the kiss, but he nodded. "If my queen commands it."

Daenerys Targaryen backed away to rejoin Lady Sansa and Lord Tyrion, and Davos saw her hands discreetly touch her belly. Jon swung one leg over Rhaegal's back and grabbed him by the back of the neck. "Drogon, Rhaegal, sōvēs."

And then they were off.

Author's Note: I'm almost positive that Jon will ride Rhaegal on the show - the process of becoming his dragonrider would probably be much more complicated than this, but this story is only 13 chapters. Some things have to be hastened.

Up next: the battle at Karhold and Arya, Jaime, Melisandre and Jon's POVs.