A/N:

Thanks to all of you who read the story, and especially for those who took their time to leave a comment. It means a lot to a writer :)

"I don't think you can trust me with that."

"Oh, cool down, those are not real bullets."

"what do you mean?"

"Those are paint bullets. It hurts when they hit you, but they only bruise you. And paint you. Magnificently."

"Why would you have something like that?"

"Cause it's fun."

"What's fun about getting hit by something that can bruise you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake Jon Just take the damn rifle!" I shoved the paintball gun to Jon's hands.

We stood in a stranded field in the western end of Colorado. Ghost was hanging around. I placed a few soda cans on old rusted barrels that were there for us to shoot at. I bought two of those rifles on our way here. "I trusted you with the stick, now trust me."

"I've already trusted you with the car."

"Urgh, the car was different! Now, look," I said. My rifle was hanging from my shoulder when I adjusted his hands. "Are you left handed or right handed?"

"Right handed." Jon said. I remembered him fighting skillfully with both hands yesterday, so I was sure.

"So you hold it like that-" I showed him where to put each hand. "-it's hard to use a rifle like that with one hand. You have to hold it with both of your hands, because when you shoot the blast is too strong. You need both hands strong and supporting."

I showed him how I hold mine and he fixed his stance, starting to get concentrated. "Look through that little piping hole. That's how you aim."

I moved around him, making sure he's standing right ad holding the weapon correctly. "Put your finger there, but don't push the trigger until you think you've got locked on your target."

"Which is?" Jon asked.

"That cherry-coke can. I hate cherry-coke."

Jon took a deep breath and aimed. "It's nothing like a bow and an arrow, or even a crossbow."

"I know!" I said. "I tried a bow and an arrow it's much harder than that, but it's so much fun."

Jon stopped aiming to look at me. "No, I meant this is much harder."

I rolled my eyes. "We're from different worlds." I said, and Jon went back to aim.

"Alright. I think I'm locked on the cherry-coke can."

"Good. Now," I took a small pause, "Fire!"

The King in the North took down his gun and looked around. "Where?" He asked and turned. "I don't see any smoke, are you sure?"

I face palmed hard. "It means to shoot." I said with an eye roll.

Jon turned back to the target. "So why don't you say 'shoot'?" He asked like a little kid who doesn't understand the logic of things.

"Because you just say 'fire'. Ok?" I said, "Don't fight with it. Now back to first shooting stance!" I commanded in a fake army voice. Jon bended he knees a little and lifted the rifle. "Good, the cherry-coke can, when I say 'fire'-you fire, is that clear?"

"I thought we just went over it!" Jon complained.

"Don't break my character! Is that clear?"

"Yes…"

"Yes what?"

"Yes Sir! But you're a woman so-"

"FIRE!"

And then he finally shot. The bullet hit the barrel under the can with a splash of neon green.

"Again!" I said, "Fire!"

Jon shot again, this time hitting closer. I smiled and shouted to fire again. He couldn't hit the can, but he was very close. "Ok, you're getting better." I said. The barrel now looked like a rainbow Dalmatian-green, orange, yellow and pink.

"That's harder than I thought. You make it look easy." Jon said and drank some water.

"From the same reason you make sword fighting and brooding so easy-I've had a lot of practice." I took my rifle and aimed to the orange-dry can. I took a big breath and let it out, then shot. The can flew backwards.

Jon rolled his eyes at me, "You're just showing-off."

I smiled at him like a proud puppy, "Yes I am."

Daenerys didn't know how Jaime did it, but he convinced the Lannister army to betray Cersei. They didn't agree to pledge loyal to Daenerys, but did pledged themselves for the war against the Dead. They trusted Jaime more than they did his sister, who people started to call The Mad Queen-in the west, in King's Landing and even in the Red Keep's court.

And for the Golden Company? The small unit that was sent was burned to ashes after they did not want to join Daenerys in her fighting. They wanted gold-ad that was it. Their swords melted by the head of Drogon's fire.

And for the rest of them? Tyrion was sent to negotiate the terms of surrender with the Iron Bank's people. If they will not stand down they'll burn at the narrow sea-fighters and elephants alike. But Daenerys was not as spendable with taking her dragons to battle anymore.

And Cersei? She was still alive, somewhere. Hidden between the walls of King's landing, the city that was full with people that hated her. She had no army-not her house's, and not the foreign one. She had a small group of supports that was kept around her. But she wasn't the threat she was before. Small parties were looking for her, for her and her unborn child-both of which, in Daenerys mind, should die.

Daenerys could go back north again, with her Dothraki and Unsullied, some of whom died bravely in the war.

She cursed Cersei in her heart every time she remembered the people she lost in vain for those little games.

At least a raven came from Sansa. Jon was alive and well. A few days later another raven arrived-Jon and Andie found a way back. It will take a few more days, but he's coming.

While flying on Drogon, Daenerys could finally relax. Not for long, but just for the few hours until they get to Winterfell. Until they'll get to another war.

She remembered a weird moment from the battle, when she and Drogon where just diving down to get a better angle to get rid of about fifty warriors where she almost threw-up. She assumed it was because they come to war just after breakfast-but then again, Daenerys was so sick she didn't eat. Then, she thought, it might've been the smell of burning flesh. It never bothered her before, but now it was stronger than ever. Maybe it was the amount of men she burnt this time-way more than ever before. Drogon was more careful, too. He didn't dive ad deep or turned as sharp as he used to. Maybe he felt her sickness as well.

When Drogon landed in Winter fell she slipped from his wing and barely stood up by herself. Jorah ran to her while Rheagal soared above them.

"The queen is sick!" He shouted and then said the same thing to two Dothraki bloodrider behind him and added, "Take her to the man with the big ring-chain around his neck, quick!"

"I'm fine, Ser Jorah." Daenerys said and brushed the offers the carry her. Drogon, who by now should be flying and hunting, kept standing behind. That was peculiar. Daenerys felt her stomach turn again.

"Any news from-" She gulped in the queenliest manner she could muster, "Jon Sno-"

And she just had to empty her stomach there, on the snow, at the gate of Winterfell while her advisers and followers watching.

Drogon's big nuzzle smelled her back. He was worried for her, but as a Dothraki bloodrider approached to help, Drogon shrieked warningly.

"It's fine, Drogon," She said quietly. "It's fine, I'm completely healthy! It was a long flight, that's all."

Missandai reached her and helped her stand properly. "You heard your queen," She said. "We have an army to accept soon! The Lannister army is joining the fight with the Dead, so you all have a lot of work to do!"

After fifteen tries, Jon finally shot his cherry-coke can. It fell to the ground with a splash of neon blue.

As a reward, I bought his ice cream. He chose the rocky road. The man loves chocolate indeed. We sat outside the ice cream parlor when my phone rang. It was Zee.

"Hello, Zee. How are ya?" I asked cheerly.

"Can I speak to Jon?" She asked.

"Oh, really, thanks for asking how I am! I'm very well-"

"Andie."

"Ok, ok!" I took the phone and handed it to Jon. "For you, my king!" I said with a fake British accent. Jon liked the ice cream from his mustache, which was really, really funny to watch 'cause his eyes crossed a bit when he looked at the middle. Maybe that's how I look like when I try to get all the ice cream from my lips. He took the phone.

"Zee?" He asked, then went quiet.

I tried to read his face-nothing for now. The he took the pone away from his ear and tried to hang up. I took it from his hand and hung up the phone for him.

"Well?" I asked.

Jon sighed and closed his eyes. "Bran told he a few things. Mostly good, but we lost Last Hearth. The rest of the Night's Watch doesn't stand a chance/ They're ditching Castle Black and heading to Winterfell. So does the Lannuster army. I just hope that we'll have enough space for all of this people… I hope they will not kill each other before the Army of the Dead arrives."

"And?" I asked.

"Daenerys is sick. Bran added it last, because it is the most recent news. They're not sure what she has, but she insists she's fine."

I swallowed and looked at my almond brittle ice cream. I took another bite. "You know I'm going to ask you the last question soon," I said.

"Yes." Jon said with a sigh.

"But not now." I decided. "Now I want us to enjoy the ice cream and the nice view. We have only a couple more days, we oughtta enjoy them."

Jon gave me a weak smile and went back to his chocolaty frozen dessert. His mind was somewhere else.

"That's the first time I see a desert," Jon said. "I've been told about Dorne and parts of Essos, but seeing it with my own eyes…"

We were just heading out of Utah and into Nevada. It was a beautiful road. I found an old empty camping spot for the night. The starts shone brighter than in any other state we camped at. We had a few big rocks to hide us from nosey people, just in case any other camper will show up.

"And the stars here, too," He continued. "It's more like home."

"Yeah, you don't have air pollution, do you?" I said and made my vegan hot dogs by the fire.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked and sat next to me.

"Well. Air pollution is something humans created… all those machines are doing some bad as well. And also, with the city lights it's harder to see the stars. Here. Where there aren't too many humans, you can see the sky clearly."

Jon just nodded silently and looked up again.

I hate to ruin his evening, but I had to know. That's it.

"Third question." I announced.

Jon looked back at me. "Alright."

"What's the deal with Daenerys?"

Jon sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I love her." He said.

"And?"

Jo gulped. "She's one of the strongest women I've ever met. She cares about people, but she can also be strong and demand. She's… She's a true leader. She deserves to be queen, the people who follow her-chose to. They're doing it because they believe in her. She has so much power in her… I don't even know the tip of the things she's been through, but she's been through a lot."

I listened while eating, trying to understand what the problem may be.

He told me of their first meeting on Dragonstone. Of the dragons. Of the chanceless fight beyond the Wall with the Army of the Dead, where she lost one of her dragons-one of her children. They were children to her, and now that I know that, I felt even worse that she lost one of them.

Losing a dragon sucks. But losing your son?

"So when I came to Winter fell with her, my brother told me something that he discovered…"

And then Jon gave me a whole Westeros history lesson. I tried to follow all the details.

"So Lyanna Stark, who you thought was your aunt, was actually in love with prince Rheagar, and they married? And now they tell you you're their son? The legitimate son? Not Ned Stark's bastard?"

"Aye." Jon nodded.

"And that make Daenerys… It makes her your aunt… IT MAKES DAENERYS YOU AUNT?!"

Jon looked surprised from my shock. "I know it is incest, but it's not like… like the Lannister twins."

"She's. Your. Aunt." I let out a breath. How fucked up is that? But is it ok in their world?

"It was very… weird for me too. But we didn't know when…" He looked embarrassed.

"You slept together." I said, my eyes wide. "You slept with your aunt!"

"Can you please stop calling her that? It makes me feel bad." Jon complained.

I blinked for a moment. "Oh, really? It does? What the hell, Jon? Is that normal in your world?"

Jon sighed. "In some places. In Winterfell… less. Where Daenerys comes from, it's normal."

I pressed my lips. "Well." I sighed, "What are you going to do about it?"

Jon leaned back on the rock. "I can't help that I love her," He said, "I still do, I can't just change the way I feel."

That was just a little bit disappointing, but I didn't take it to heart. He'll leave soon, and I need to enjoy that friendship as much as I can. "So there is no problem?"

"That is not the main problem." Jon said. "Because Rheagar and Lyanna married and I'm their legitimate son, I'm the rightful heir to the throne, not Daenerys."

I looked at the sky, trying to keep up with all of the information I got.

So Daenerys thought she's the last Targaryen, if I recall correctly. She struggled and fought and raised a giant army and three dragons to come to her homeland to find out in the end she had a nephew, who found out about the whole thing himself when she did, and he is the rightful heir to the throne she wanted so bad.

Sheesh, that's a lot. And frankly, not fair since she sacrificed so much in order to be crowned in Westeros. I believe that woman dreamed about it for years.

Then I thought about Jon. The King in the North, by the choice of his people. Lord Commander or whatever-who was also chosen by vote. I remembered how he talked about responsibility. How he wanted to leave everything behind after he rose from the dead, but then his sister came.

"And do you want to be king?" I asked, "Do you want to rule Westeros?"

Jon sighed and drew his fingers through his hair. "I don't know anymore. I never thought what will happen if we'll survive and win. What will happen to the whole kingdom? We can never go back to what is used to be. So many great houses fell, things will never go back."

"But do you want it?" I repeated my question.

Jon looked me in the eye, them back to the fire. "When I was young, I always felt like I can do better than others. And I did-I was a better swordsman than my brother, who was the heir to Ned Stark. I was smarter than people older than me, I did the best in so many things… mostly to prove myself o others and gain their respect-as a bastard, you have to gain honor through action. But also, I felt like I was destined to something else, something more than a bastard." He looked down at his feet, "And then, in the Night's Watch, I learned I'm no better than any other of those petty criminals that were sent to the Wall. We were equal, and I was scrubbing the floors like they did. I had to learn to follow before I could lead." His eyes shone with the light, like he remembered something or someone.

"And when I had the chance to lead I already saw too much. I killed so many people, I lost my count. I watched my brothers for the watch and for the battlefield fall one after the other for nothing. For hate. And then, I was murdered for trying to save innocent people." I could hear the sadness in his voice. He was also angry, but mostly just sad. "When I woke up on the table, I just wished to stay alone… but I still had this duty for the people… to my family. To the living. But when it will be over, if I won't die fighting…" He wondered off. "I don't know what to do but fight and survive anymore."

I leaned back on the rock that was behind us. "Well, you've had your break. You spent a long time here."

"Aye," He agreed. "I trust my sister to lead Winterfell now and I'll trust her to rule the north after the war is over. She still needs some guidance, but mostly she's smart and strong, and cunning in a good way. She's a good woman."

"And?"

"And Daenerys deserves the crown more than me. The Night's Watch won't be needed… So…"

I looked at Jon, wondering what he may think.

"I don't know what will happen, but I don't want to be a ruler again. It's hard, people tend to be ungrateful, remember the good things you did for a month, and your mistakes for life. I don't know what I will do if I'll live after the war." He took a big breath. "But I know I will never be Aegon Targaryen. I will never be Jon Stark, as much as I wanted it as a kid. I will be Jon Snow, that's the name I lived with all of my life, and this is who I am." Jon looked like he had a relief, like it was something he was waiting to say aloud. "I will not be the king of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not wish for it. I'll take care of my people, but not from a palace and not from a throne."

I liked that. I really did. And the relief in his voice, that was good too. I think he was happy to finally come to terms with himself-maybe he had a conflict, and that's what he wanted to solve, and that's why he prayed for the gods.

"I'm glad you told me that." I said, like he did last night.

"Me too." Jon said with a smile. "When I told Daenerys I don't want the crown, I didn't think it through. I just wanted to be done with it, because there were much more important matters to discuss, but it hunted me."

"Well, I guess you had to be complete with that in order to go back home. Zee said you have to solve something."

"Yes, I think you're right."

"Now let's get some sleep!" I stood up and started to clean the camp. "Tomorrow we're getting to California!"

Well that's all for that chapter! Let me know what you think, I always appreciate a comment :)