Chapter 7 – Daenerys

She laughed, a genuine, mirthful one – before once again resuming a serious countenance.

"It must be strange for you too," she commented softly. "Seeing your sister again, after all this time."

"Aye," Jon sighed. "And a faceless assassin pretending to be Cersei Lannister, no less. Not exactly how I imagined our reunion would go."

"How do you feel about that?" Daenerys asked him carefully, wholly unsure from his facial expression.

"I'm not sure," Jon said, looking at her. She could see he was conflicted. "It is wonderful to see her again, truly. Growing up, at Winterfell – she was my favourite, even more so than Robb, I think. I always felt like an outcast, the northern bastard, but Arya always felt different too." He smiled slightly as he reminisced, but then looked more solemn. "But I can see that she's changed so much since I last saw her. She's turned a happy-go-lucky, fierce spirit into something murderous.

"She had to grow up quickly," Daenerys said gently, taking his hand in an effort to console the storm the plagued in his eyes. "We all did. I imagine you've changed a fair bit since your sister last saw you. And I know I am certainly not the same girl who fled to Pentos all those years ago."

"That is indeed true…" Jon conceded, smiling at her fondly. Or at least, what Dany hoped was fondness. "Perhaps I just need to talk to Arya, properly – get to know her again."

"A good idea," Dany told him warmly. She half expected him to get up and walk out, and prepared herself for it. But he didn't. Instead, he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and leaned a few centimetres closer.

"Are you sure there is nothing else troubling you, Your Grace?" Jon enquired gently.

"Daenerys," she interjected, tilting her head to look him in the eyes.

Jon smiled. "Are you sure you're alright, Daenerys?"

"I just have a lot on my mind," she responded calmly, looking back out to sea. She knew she could trust Jon. He would listen to her, even if he hated what he heard. Dany considered telling him everything, from the day she had been sold off to Khal Drogo, to the day she arrived back on the shores of Westeros. She wanted to ask him things too – how he had been treated at Winterfell as a child, how he managed to become Lord Commander, what Davos meant when he said he took a knife in the heart, amongst many other things. But they were sitting there, overlooking the sea, just the two of them in companionship – and it was nice. Being able to take a break from being Queen, a break from being the strong and stoic Mother of Dragons; to just be able to stare at the waves as they rolled into the beach from above, watching the sun begin to set and just be.

"Aye," Jon said despondently.

Daenerys looked at him closely. He is disappointed that I am not telling him anything she realised. He thinks I do not trust him. This, in turn, upset Dany. She felt a strange, yet deep connection with this broody, handsome northerner. She had thought harbouring feelings like this would never happen again, as though they were beyond her capability. But this feeling was happening, and that frightened Dany. Jon still hadn't bent the knee or pledged the north to fight for her, should she need it – yet the Iron Throne was hers for the taking. Daenerys knew, deep down, that she wouldn't be able to deal with Jon the way she would with any other lords who did not submit to her. She couldn't even use her dragons against him – even Drogon, the largest and fiercest of her children – seemed to like him for reasons Dany simply couldn't comprehend. Dragons are thought to be smarter than men she remembered Tyrion telling her once. They feel hatred for their enemies, and compassion for their friends. They clearly saw Jon as friend rather than foe.

"How is the dragonglass mining coming along?" she asked, sticking to a neutral topic then after what felt like necessity.

"It's coming along well," Jon replied, resuming the professional countenance. "I've already sent two shipments north to White Harbour, that will then get transported to Winterfell." He broke off and gave her a sweet smile. "There's so much of it; it's great. And it's one of the only substances that can kill the White Walkers and their foot-soldiers."

"What else can?" Daenerys still wasn't one hundred percent sure she believed the severity of the threat. She could believe the undead army existed; dragons did, and so did direwolves – meaning the things' existence couldn't really be so impossible – but she wouldn't – couldn't believe that the threat was so serious.

"Valyrian steel," he offered, indicating the blade at his belt. "Though a rarity. The only other thing we've found is fire, to kill the wights. Although setting things alight is often difficult, north of the Wall."

Dany reflected on this for a minute.

"It must be so cold, north of the Wall," she countered. She could vaguely remember her experience in the House of the Undying. But the only thing she could connect it with was the brightness of the snow. Not the cold. It had only been a vision, after all.

"It is," Jon smiled again. "Freezing. Down here, it's roasting hot by comparison."

"This is the coldest I've ever been," Dany laughed. "In Essos, it is so much warmer. I expect you'd hate it there."

"I probably would," Jon grinned back.

Daenerys smiled, glad that the awkward sadness had passed.

"Dragonstone isn't all bad though, is it?" she asked innocently.

"Of course not," Jon replied. "The beach and all the fresh sea air is very pleasant, the dragonglass caves are lovely, it's nice to see Lord Tyrion again…" he broke off, grinning as Daenerys gave him a light, playful punch to the arm. "Oh and I suppose, it is great to make the acquaintance of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

"Thank you," Dany mocked him.

Before Daenerys could think of another way to keep the banter going, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said, giving Jon's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and standing up.

Ser Davos entered.

"Sorry," he said, noticing how close they still stood together. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not," Jon told his Hand. "Are you alright?"

"Forget about me, are you alright?" the older man looked from Jon to Dany and back again. "Both of yer?"

"We're fine," Jon replied.

Davos still seemed to be flustered. "I just thought, with Cersei potentially still on the loose, I thought I would find you in the throne room. Any news on that front?"

"Cersei Lannister is dead," Daenerys told him, trying hard to keep the vehemence out of her voice.

"Since when?" the Onion Knight asked of Jon, looking very taken aback.

"Since, assumedly, a while ago," Jon sighed in response. "It's a long story." Dany's heart gave a lurch; he had been reminded once again of the prodigality of his sister.

"I will hold a council meeting tomorrow to talk about what has happened," Daenerys told him, before looking back to the curly-haired northerner next to her. "I would like you both to be in attendance. But for now, I am tired and I have much to think about."

Davos nodded. "I will go tell everyone what you just told me. I believe Ser Jorah and a few of the Dothraki are still out searching for Cersei. They've even started lighting torches to improve visibility out there. And as for that boy Gendry, well, he's got company…" he left. Dany exchanged a look with Jon and laughed.

"I wonder how Arya and Gendry know each other," he mused. "He definitely isn't a northerner."

"Perhaps they met when she escaped Kings Landing," Daenerys suggested. She stifled a yawn. "I am so tired…"

"Me too," Jon said. "And I know I'm going to need to be well-rested to take on tomorrow."

"Thank you," Dany said softly. He looked at her in surprise. "For being here. For being so… nice. And for not judging me."

"You haven't given me any need to judge you, Daenerys," he replied. She looked into his eyes and they still held that soft look in them. Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around his neck again and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, smiling as he gently hugged her back.

She pulled away after a few seconds and just stared at him. Stop it she told herself. Stop acting like the lovesick fool, which you aren't, and shouldn't be.

"Goodnight, Jon," she said softly.

He smiled. "Goodnight, Daenerys," he replied.

The next morning, Dany awoke to weak sunlight and Missandei gently tapping on her wrist.

"Good morning, Your Grace," the translator said, her voice as serious as ever. "Ser Davos told us yesterday about Cersei…"

"At the council meeting," Daenerys told her. "It is a long story, my friend."

Daenerys dressed quickly and left her hair down, save for a couple of looped braids at the back. It was only as she descended to a lower floor of the castle that she heard the faint sound of clanging steel. She hurried outside. Dany knew she was in no danger – the Dothraki bloodriders would run to her if she was – but she was keen to see who was fighting who. That smith, Gendry, against Jon, or even Jorah against Jon.

What she was not expecting to see was Jon sparring with his younger sister. Daenerys frowned as she watched. Arya's sword strokes were fluid and quick, and it was plain to see that Jon was not going easy on her. The younger Stark girl's movements were better suited to a dancefloor than a battlefield as she almost glided across the space. During one particular whirl-around, she gave Daenerys an acknowledging smile, which the Dragon Queen returned, before deftly blocking another of Jon's attacks.

Dany tore her eyes away from the spectacle in front of her for long enough to see Gendry watching the pair too, with an expression of awe on his face.

"Quite something to see, isn't it?" she said conversationally to him.

The young smith nodded nervously. "I knew she was good. Better than good. She told me what happened after… but I didn't know she was this good."

Dany looked back. Arya was laughing… still full of energy. It took a few seconds for Daenerys to notice that the small girl was barely watching what her older brother was doing. Jon was visibly struggling now.

"Perhaps it is time we all broke fast," she suggested, loud enough for them to hear. Arya stepped backwards and sheathed her little blade at once, as though she had been expecting Dany to intervene. Jon took a few more seconds, and when he had caught his breath, he looked to his sister with a mixture of fear and admiration of his handsome face.

"Who taught you to fight like that?" he panted, as the pair moved towards Dany.

Arya gave a little half-smirk. "No one."

Daenerys suppressed a sigh. What was it with these Starks, being so vague? She turned and started off back towards the castle, the two siblings trailing after her at a slower pace.

"But that was… amazing!" Jon was clearly still in shock.

Arya shrugged in response. "I told you that if we sparred, I'd kick your ass. I would've been right. Good thing for you that your new girlfriend decided to stop you before you got hurt."

Dany's face felt warm. Thank goodness they are behind me.

"Arya?" Jon started.

"Yes?"

"Shut up!"

It was Arya's mischievous laugh that had Daenerys blush fully as she made her way up the steps. This is going to be a strange day.

A/N: It feels like absolutely forever since I last updated and I do apologise. College is just getting so, so busy and I really am doing my best.

Thanks so much for reading! Most of you said you wanted me to continue with this story, so I've set out a plan for the next few chapters – stay tuned! Hopefully this chapter had all my Jonerys readers excited – I am trying to give them a slow burn but Jonerys will be a thing eventually!

Please review – I am always open to advice and ideas on how to continue. I am planning for the next chapter to be in Arya's POV.

Thanks for reading again – until next time! x