Ser Davos had warned Charleen of landsickness, the dizzying sensation of swaying on solid ground that often followed a sea voyage, but when almost a week had passed since their arrival on Dragonstone and she was still plagued by occasional bouts of nausea, she realised that there had to be another explanation for her discomfort.
Sitting in her chamber in the northern wing of Dragonstone castle one morning with her eyes closed against the queasy feeling in her stomach, a sudden suspicion hit her, and she straightened up with a gasp, her mind racing.
When was the last time that she had had her moon blood? It had been weeks ago, at Winterfell, but whether before or after her wedding to Jon she could not recall. And ever since, he had shared her bed almost every night…
Suddenly trembling all over, Charleen rose to her feet and, after a moment's hesitation, left the chamber.
She found Jon on the terrace that overlooked the cliffs on the northern side of the island. He was leaning against the parapet with his back towards her, but at the sound of her footsteps, he turned around, and the sombre expression on his face brightened.
"Jon," Charleen said breathlessly, "I need to tell you something."
She looked at him earnestly, feeling her heart beating hard and fast inside her chest.
"I'm pregnant."
Jon's eyes widened, and he reached out to grasp her hand tightly in his.
"Are you certain?"
"As certain as I can be, at this stage."
A disbelieving smile spread across Jon's face. He drew Charleen towards him, cupped her face with his hand, and kissed her fervently.
"I love you," he said. "Charleen, I love you."
Charleen looked at him uncertainly.
"Are you happy?"
"We're going to have a baby, you and I," Jon said. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"
Charleen snorted.
"Between Daenerys Targaryen trying to conquer the world with her dragons and the Night King marching south with his army of the dead, now might not be the best time to have a child."
"Now might be the only time to have a child," Jon countered.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Jon's expression darkened, and he turned to look out over the cliffs and the sea beyond.
"Everyone told me to learn from my father's mistakes," he said. "Don't go south. Don't answer a summons from the Mad King's Daughter, a foreign invader. And here I am, a prisoner on this island, along with my pregnant wife." He sighed bitterly. "We need to leave. I need to take you home."
He looked earnestly at Charleen, but she shook her head.
"You don't have to do anything on my account," she said softly. "I can be pregnant here just as well as anywhere else."
"Daenerys is a lost cause," Jon declared. "She doesn't believe me. She's not going to help us."
"Of course not. She's not going to go north to fight an enemy she doesn't believe in on the word of a man she doesn't know. But you didn't just come here to ask for her support. There's something else she can give you."
Charleen gave Jon a meaningful look as she spoke, and he nodded slowly.
"Dragonglass."
GoTGoTGoTGoTGoTGoTGoT
The map that Sam had sketched in his letter to Jon pointed to the south-eastern side of the cove below Dragonstone castle. Daenerys led the way along the beach, holding a torch in her hand in spite of the sunlight that was gleaming on the sand and on the crests of the breaking surf. Jon and Charleen followed a few paces behind her, and three or four Dothraki warriors brought up the rear.
All of a sudden, Daenerys stopped. At the bottom of the cliff face to her left, a jagged fissure opened in the rock, revealing a passage that disappeared in the gloom.
Daenerys turned to look at Jon, and he nodded. As she mirrored his gesture, the Dothraki came forward, approaching the entrance to the cave with their torches held aloft. Daenerys and the others followed them, their footsteps echoing loudly between the walls of rock.
A few paces beyond the entrance, the passage narrowed, forcing them into single file. Moving in front of Charleen, Jon took her hand and led her forward, the flame of his torch brushing the rock overhead. They rounded a bend in the passage, and ahead of them, the others suddenly came back into view as they emerged into what appeared into an enormous cavern, its far walls and ceiling lost in darkness.
Near them, however, the walls glistened and shone in the light of the torches, and Charleen realised that the rock was criss-crossed with innumerable veins of a dark, semi-translucent material. At the same moment, she heard Jon's sharp intake of breath and felt his fingers tightening around hers. She turned her head to look at him, and he caught her gaze for a second. Then, he let go of her hand and took a step forward to where Daenerys was standing.
"Well, this is it," he said in a hushed voice. "All that we'd ever need."
Daenerys did not answer. Her eyes wide, she moved towards the wall of the cavern and slowly ran her fingers over a gleaming vein of dragonglass.
"What is that?" she asked suddenly, raising her torch.
Drawing closer, Charleen saw that there were symbols carved into the rock above her head, a varied pattern of curled spirals and swirls.
There was a long silence.
"The Children of the Forest made these," Jon finally murmured, his voice filled with awe.
"When?" Daenerys breathed.
"A very long time ago."
Daenerys slowly moved forward along the wall, the flickering light of her torch gliding across the carvings, and when she spoke, her tone was hushed, almost reverent.
"They would have been right here. Standing where we're standing. Before there were Targaryens, or Starks, or Lannisters. Maybe even before there were men."
"No," Jon said. "They were here together, the Children and the First Men."
He pointed at a carving of what appeared to be a group of little human figures. Below them, at the very edge of the circle of torchlight, three larger figures were visible, with a pattern on their bodies that looked like armour, and daggers in their hands.
"What were they doing?" Daenerys asked. "Fighting each other?"
Jon did not answer immediately. He took a few steps forward, and another group of figures became discernible in the flickering light of his torch, their bodies shrunken and skeletal, the eyes in their sunken faces a deep, dark blue.
"They fought together," Jon said huskily. "Against their common enemy. Because the enemy is real. It's always been real."
A shiver ran down Charleen's back at these words. The figure at the front of the group had a jagged crown upon his head, and his blue eyes seemed to follow her with a gaze that was hard and cold as death.
There was a long silence as all three of them stared at the carvings. Finally, Daenerys lowered her torch and turned to Jon.
"And you say you can't defeat them without my armies and my dragons?"
"No," Jon replied quietly. "I don't think I can."
Daenerys took a step towards him.
"If the North is under threat, I will fight for you." She paused, and added emphatically, "when you bend the knee."
Jon stood motionless for a moment, staring at her in disbelief. With a deep exhalation of breath, he turned away.
They emerged onto the beach a few moments later, blinking in the bright daylight. Two of Daenerys' dragons were circling above the bay, their faint screeching carrying across the water towards them. Daenerys stopped, watching them with a rapt expression upon her face.
"I named them for my brothers, Viserys and Rhaegar," she said. "They're both gone now." She turned to look at Jon. "People thought dragons were gone forever, but here they are. Perhaps we should all be examining what we think we know."
At these words, Jon's eyes flickered to her face, but he did not speak.
"I will allow you to mine the dragonglass and forge weapons from it," Daenerys continued. "Any resources or men you need I will provide for you."
"Thank you," Jon said with a nod, but Charleen caught a note of resentment in his tone. He exhaled heavily. "So you believe me then," he asked, "about the Night King and the army of the dead?"
Daenerys did not answer. She looked at Jon steadily for a moment, then turned and started back along the beach towards the barbican.
"You'd better get to work, Jon Snow," she said coolly, without looking back at him.
When they reached the steps leading up to the barbican, they saw two figures waiting at the top, Tyrion Lannister and the bald man who had whispered to Daenerys in the throne room – Varys, Charleen had learned, formerly Master of Whisperers at the court in King's Landing. Climbing the steps behind Daenerys, Charleen saw that they both looked rather grim.
"What is it?" Daenerys demanded, hurrying up the steps towards them.
"We took Casterly Rock," Tyrion informed her in a guarded tone.
"That's very good to hear," Daenerys said, hesitating as Tyrion and Varys glanced at each other. "Isn't it?"
"The main force of the Lannisters wasn't at Casterly Rock," Varys explained.
"Where were they?"
"They were marching on Highgarden. They've taken the Reach." Varys lowered his gaze, seemingly unable to look Daenerys in the face as he delivered the news.
Daenerys stood motionless for a moment, staring at Varys and Tyrion; then, with an angry huff, she swept past them and marched towards the gate that opened onto the causeway.
"You'll want to discuss this amongst yourselves," Jon declared, keeping back a little as Tyrion and Varys hastened to follow her. "We'll just –"
"You will stay," Daenerys snapped without so much as turning her head. "All my allies are gone! They've been taken from me while I've been sitting here on this island. Our Ironborn and Dornish allies were attacked on their way to Dorne. Their fleet is all but gone. And now, we've lost the Reach as well."
"You still have the largest armies…," Tyrion ventured, hurrying along beside her, but Daenerys cut across him.
"…who won't be able to eat because Cersei has taken all the food from the Reach!"
"Call Grey Worm and the Unsullied back," Tyrion insisted, with an attempt at confidence that was not altogether convincing. "We still have enough ships to carry them and the Dothraki to the mainland. Commit to the blockade of King's Landing. We have a plan. It's still the right plan."
"The right plan?" Daenerys erupted, rounding on him. "Your strategy has lost us Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the Reach."
Charleen saw Tyrion lowering his head at these words, cowering before Daenerys' rage.
"If I have underestimated our enemies…" he began, but once again, Daenerys cut him off.
"Our enemies? Your family, you mean. Perhaps you don't want to hurt them after all."
She paused for a moment, glowering, and Jon glanced at Charleen, his eyebrows raised.
"Enough with the clever plans," Daenerys said finally, looking away from Tyrion and out towards the bay, where her dragons were still circling. "I have three large dragons. I'm going to fly them to the Red Keep."
"We've discussed this –" Tyrion told her warningly, but again, Daenerys did not let him finish.
"My enemies are in the Red Keep. What kind of a queen am I if I'm not willing to risk my life to fight them?"
"A smart one," Tyrion said.
Daenerys looked away from him, and her gaze fell on Jon.
"What do you think I should do?"
At this, Jon exchanged another look with Charleen.
"I would never presume –" he began, but Daenerys cut across him.
"I'm at war," she declared. "I'm losing. What do you think I should do?"
She advanced towards him as she spoke, and he took a step forward as if to position himself between her and Charleen.
"It's true what you said," he told her calmly, looking out over the bay at her dragons. "No one thought that dragons would ever exist again." He paused. "The people who follow you know that you made something impossible happen. Maybe that helps them believe that you can make other impossible things happen. That you can build a world that's different from the shit one they've always known. But if you use them –" he jerked his head at the dragons, "to melt castles and burn cities, you're not different. You're just more of the same."
Daenerys did not answer. For a long moment, she stood gazing at her dragons; then, she turned around and resumed her way up the causeway towards the castle.
