Hello. I'm so surpised and happy at the response this story has received already, so thank you, lots and lots, it really brightens my day to see a new follower etc. I really hope you all like the story, so far, and that I don't end up messing up half way through. Just like to make a note that from now on, I'll be updating once or twice a week, while I try and pre-write ten or more chapters, in case I fall ill or loose my motivation, I'll still have ore-written chapters to post. Tell me if you think Jon is too OOC, it's been bothering me. Oh, and we'll see Sansa next chapter and Margaery the chapter after!

Chapter Three

Daenerys

Ever since her birth, Daenerys had been raised believing that being a Targaryen was one of the best things she could ever achieve. Even when Viserys had died, and the true mental state of her father had been revealed to her, she still loved her name and her House, and vowed to make sure it was restored to its status once more. She certainly did not understand why Jon Snow, known as the Bastard of Winterfell before meeting her, wanted to use his mother's name and stay a Stark, or a Snow when she had called the notion folly. She didn't understand why he fought against his inheritance and was reluctant to accept that he was blood of the dragon.

"May I speak with you, Jon?" She asked, once Margeary left.

"Of course," he said, giving Varys a look, which made the eunuch rise to leave.

"Come Tommen, Myrcella," Tyrion's niece and nephew emerged from behind the curtains, and momentarily all Dany saw was their mother's face in them. Her blood boiled until she saw Jon staring at her, reproach in his eyes.

"I see their mother in them," she said.

"Physically, yes. That does not mean they will grow to be like her."

"She is in their blood, they will inherit her traits whether they like it or not. You cannot fight your blood, Jon."

He sighed. "I am not fighting it, Dany. I know what I am, do I not refer to you as my aunt nearly always?"

"Only to irritate me," she replied. "You know what you are, but refuse to embrace it. Why do you wish be Stark and only Stark? Is there something wrong with Targaryens?

"Due to the incest, half of them were mad. Like your father."

"Your grandfather."

"Yes. But I also have a Stark grandfather who my Targaryen grandfather murdered. With wildfire."

Daenerys had not remembered that. "He was mad," she shrugged. "At the time, the Starks were nothing to us."

"Well they are everything to me, now."

"And what am I, Jon? What is our legacy? When we spoke at Winterfell, when we fought on the Wall, you told me you would help our House regain its greatness, you said we were kin."

"You are my aunt. You are family, Daenerys, you always will be. But I will always be a Stark first and foremost. I will always favour Winterfell over the Iron Throne. Always favour Ghost over Rhaegan. Always favour furs and snow over cloaks and sun. Always, Daenerys, and you will have to except that I am a Stark, before everything else."

She sucked in a breath. The words hurt to hear. In her heart, she knew they were true, she knew it was futile even trying to have him give up his childhood home and the name he had longed for ever since birth, so soon, at least.

"It seems you will never be a Targaryen. That is all I wanted, Jon. Someone to share my family with. You know I am barren—" she paused to think of Rhaegon and Drogo for a moment. "You are my only family. Even Aemon is gone."

"You can share it with me," he insisted. "I will never be as Targaryen as you, but in time, I will grow into the name. Three months ago, I'd have never agreed to have someone killed by fire, never agreed to add Targaryen onto my name. It's a work in progress, Dany."

Daenerys liked hearing Jon call her Dany, it made her feel closer to him, as if somehow, she could mean as much to him as Arya, Bran and Robb did. She knew Sansa and him were not close at all, and already had grown to resent the girl, said to be the prettiest maid alive, she used that fact to console herself when she remembered that within a week or so, the maid would be at the Red Keep. But nothing could console her when she stumbled upon Jon weeping or praying for Arya, when she saw the pained expression on his face at mention of the cripple, Bran. Maybe I am pushing to hard, he will grow into his name, I will pray to the Seven for it, he may have spent twenty years as a Stark but he will spend the next sixty as a Targaryen.

"It would help me if you didn't so obviously favour the North," she said. "In my presence, at least."

"I will try," he smiled ruefully, and Daenerys' heart fluttered. How could she argue with him? Broken and pained as he was?

He is doing the best he can with the throne he didn't want. If I fix him, possibly he will come out of this stupor and realise that hanging on to Winterfell won't bring his old life back.

Daenerys knew just how to do it.

"And I will try to accept that you are still half Stark. I will send some of my talented knights to search for your sister Arya."

"Daenerys—"

"I want to. Technically, she is my blood too. In a way," Daenerys was jealous of Arya, yes, but she didn't hate the girl, not the way she did Sansa, and from what she'd heard, she was much more enjoyable than her sister. "Varys said he'd last heard words in Braavos, yes? My Unsullied won't know how to navigate there, but I could send Ser Barristan. And Ser Jorah," she cringed at his name.

"Ser Barristan is one of the most valiant soldiers of your guard, you need him. And I thought you exiled ser Jorah?"

"From Mereen. Not Westeros. And I can live without Ser Barristan for a few months. I will be perfectly safe here, until he returns."

"Well, he is exiled from here also, for slaving."

"You can turn a blind eye, I'm sure."

"Why? Why would you help me find Arya?"

"Because I love you, Jon," Daenerys had come to the realisation weeks earlier, when she found that she was willing to leave one her precious dragons in his care. "And you love her. Therefore, her safety is important to me. Above all else, us Targaryens are loyal."

"Yes," Jon said. "We are."

III

Jon

A week and a half had passed since Daenerys had promised Jon she would have Arya found, and three days since Ser Barristan had set sail, with a signed letter from Jon stating he was doing the King's bidding. The knight had refused to travel with Ser Jorah and Dany had seemingly respected his wishes. It wasn't until earlier that day, when a raven from her banished knight had reached the Red Keep that Jon realised the meant to send both knights looking for Arya. It was then, that Jon realised Daenerys truly did care for him. She hates those who betray her, and Ser Jorah's had hurt most of all, Tyrion told me, yet she is willing to invite him back for me. For Arya. Jon had then decided that he would stop keeping Daenerys at arm length, for fear of loving her too much and getting hurt. I wouldn't mind being hurt by Dany. If I will accept Sansa and name her princess, after how she and her mother treated me, I will accept Dany fully and name her princess too.

"Lord Tyrion," Jon greeted his Hand and friend jovially.

"Your Grace," the Imp returned, shocked and happy to see his good friend in such a bright mood. Jon had tried hard to hide his grief and obvious sadness, but lately Tyrion had noticed that he didn't seem to have to try so hard.

"How is Tommen?" Strangely, Jon found that he harboured no ill will for his former king. The boy is barely nine, once married and still a virgin, and clearly of passive nature.

"Shaken, admittedly, without his mother, and confused that Robert is no longer his father."

A pang of guilt arose in Jon's chest. A few days before, he had had Tommen and his sister presented at the sept and named bastards borne of Lannister incest in front of the entire city. As expected, and wanted Jon supposed, the city had thrown every insult and form of abuse their way, and even called that Tyrion was the only good Lannister left. The Imp had laughed at that. Many Great Lords had sent letter congratulating Jon on his fine ruling and just punishment for those who needed it. The ceremony was needed, if Jon wanted to ensure the children posed no threat to his throne, but it made it no easier to endure.

"How does he feel about suddenly having an uncle become one?"

"Funnily, that is the only part he seems to like. He says he wants to swap Jaime with me so I can be his father."

"I imagine that warmed your heart."

"Fouled my mouth," the dwarf said. "Me bed Cersei? Daenerys would kill her dragons before I ever thought of doing that."

Jon laughed. "I hope you kept that particular opinion to yourself."

"I did, indeed. With much struggle."

"Have you chosen anyone to rule Casterly Rock in your stead?"

"Bronn was my first choice, but upon sobriety, I realised my uncle Kevan might be a better one."

Jon had freed the man three days prior and even allowed him to return to his home to live the rest of his days. His one condition had been that the man would hold no power, however.

"The small council won't like it," Jon said.

"I can handle not pleasing Varys."

"I won't like it."

"My uncle is no threat. A man of duty and honour."

"A Lannister."

"That name seems to have become synonymous with utter and complete prick."

Jon laughed again. "Send Bronn. I can't let the people think I am too soft."

Tyrion sighed, knowing Jon wouldn't have relented. The city would begin to think that Tyrion ruled, and was only using Jon as a figurehead. "Fine. Don't come crying to me when he manages to turn the place into a broke brothel."

"I won't."

"Your sister is two days away, Varys tells me."

"I know."

"You do not mean to host a celebration upon her return?"

"I have feast prepared for the people the day after she comes. I will make an announcement. Then the day after that, I am being coronated. That is celebration enough, I think."

"I see you have been letting Daenerys in your ear."

He know me so well. Varys may be the Master of Whisperers, but Tyrion is surely the Master of all things me. Although Varys seemed to know everything, it was often Tyrion Jon went to for advice or honest counsel. The dwarf had never led him wrong and treated him like family, and had a quick and cunning mind which had often saved Jon and sometimes Daenerys' life. Of course Tyrion would know that Jon had finally let Daenerys into his life, let her words have influence over him.

"Nothing she tells me is untrue."

"She is turning you against Sansa, for no reason besides her own jealousy."

"All my life, Sansa and her mother scorned me, treated me as if I were the one who forced my father to sire a bastard. I ran to the Wall because of them—"

"But now that is over, for you are King and Catelyn is dead. Sansa is but a child, a maid of five and ten. Not overly cunning, but smart and a Stark nonetheless, which means she is a survivor. It would not bode well for you to create an enemy of her."

Jon scoffed. "She is a broken shell of a girl. I will name her Princess, allow her to live here, and marry her to someone suitable once she comes of age. What else would she need?"

"Her brother," Tyrion said simply. "I sympathise Jon, trust me, I know what it is like to have your own family against you. But look how it boded for Cersei and my lord father? Both dead. It would pain me to see you suffer the same fate."

"Sansa will not kill me, she is—"

"She was. Now, she is a girl who has suffered, spent a considerable amount of time under Littlefinger at the Vale, where I hazard he has made her much more aware. If you mistreat her, she may betray you. If you are kind, she will worship you. Trust me."

"I have my dragon—"

"Jon," Tyrion turned to face his King, even going as far as to grip his hands. "Daenerys is a fierce woman, not easily fooled, but she has only Targaryen blood in her. The blood of the Mad King. Surely, you must see that her counsel is not one you should take lightly. Those dragons, belong to her. You have your direwolf. Sansa no longer has hers, it was killed by her betrothed. Do you forget? I am not telling you to love the girl as you do your aunt, but do not mistreat her. Are you listening to me, Jon?"

Jon shook his hands out of Tyrion's grip and strode away. Of course I am listening to you, who else do I listen to? But he could not say that for fear of Varys' spies seeing and reporting it back to him. As much as Daenerys trusted and admired the spider, Jon was wary of the man, and reluctant to put his complete trust in him, as Daenerys had, even if he claims he has been protecting me ever since he learnt of my parentage.

Once at the godswood, Jon prayed for the safety of his family by listing their names as he always had. Arya, Bran, Rickon, Tyrion, Sam, Daenerys, Ghost, Rhaegal, Gilly and her babe, usually he would never utter Sansa's name, and instead place her under the umbrella of 'and the rest of mine own kin', but Tyrion was not someone Jon chose to ignore. Today he added his eldest sister's name, and prayed for her life and wellbeing, and that she might settle at the Red Keep peacefully.

At that night's small council meeting, Jon was glad to hear that Smalljon Umber had set sail with Eddard Karstark, Galbert Glover and Lady Kara Mormont, who Jon remembered fighting fiercely against the Others and showing up every day to help rebuild Winterfell and not leaving till late at night. Daenerys had finally gotten round to bestowing upon him two of her Unsullied guards: Storm and Rice, the latter being one of Jon's previous companions and the only few people who Rhaegal allowed to touch him, and he knighted them right there, presenting them both with their white cloaks. Daenerys laughed when they asked if they were to kill her if ever they thought her a threat to Jon's life. Her laugh increased in volume when Tyrion promptly answered 'yes'.

"I trust chambers for Princess Sansa have been readied, and the two handmaidens ready for her service?" Jon questioned.

"Aye, Your Grace, though your choice in handmaidens confuses me."

It was supposed to, Jon thought, because the ones you offered are your spies, and I will not have a Stark under the thumb of the likes of you.

"These two will do. They and their fathers travelled with me from the North, they are honourable women who will provide Princess Sansa with a sense of home," and they are under my payment, my spies Baelish, not yours.

"A wise choice, Your Grace," Varys said, silently complimenting the man on his ability to see through Littlefinger.

It had taken him a while, Varys noted, but King Jon, first of his name, had begun to play the game, and he seemed quite competent at it too, Varys smiled, he may prove a better king than the eunuch had thought. It was not often the realm was granted a king who could also play the game.

"Princess Sansa?" Daenerys asked.

"She is the King's sister," Tyrion answered, rather sharply. "So she is a Princess."

"The King's cousin," Daenerys corrected. "So she is a Lady."

"Threatened?" Tyrion teased.

"By Sansa? Not at all. I am Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Shackles, current heir to the Iron Throne and Lady of House Targaryen," her playful smile indicated that Daenerys was only joking.

"If the games are now over," Jon interrupted, though he was smiling. "Sansa will be granted title of Princess, as will Arya once she's found, and Bran and Rickon Princes if they choose, though Bran may want to be known only as Lord of Winterfell."

"The last shipments of gold raided from Lannisport and the Iron Islands have proved sufficient enough to pay the Crown's debt to the Iron Bank. All that remains is the interest, which I'm sure Mace Tyrell will cover in exchange for Princess Sansa's hand in marriage for his son," Varys announced. "All the Great Lord's except Lord Tyrion have forgiven the Crown of all debt in exchange for peace and prosperity. All that is left is a measly thirty thousand golden dragons for the Iron Bank's interest, which I'm sure Lord Baelish can pull out from somewhere before he leaves," the statement caused Petyr to laugh his raspy laugh, before promising to do so before his departure. Jon was still not sure whether he should allow the man to return and undoubtedly rule the Vale. Maybe I could send Rickon there once he comes of age, if the boy Robin dies as everyone thinks he will . . .

"Mine goes without saying, Varys," Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Though Sansa marrying a Tyrell may not be such a bad idea. Not as great as a royal marriage, but not too bad. More than House Tyrell should expect."

"Speaking of lord's," Jon said. "I forgot to name you lord, Varys. Daenerys says she wouldn't mind giving you some of House Targaryen's lands for your help in our cause."

"You might even rule in my stead once I return to Mereen, until Jon's second babe is born."

Varys looked pleasantly surprised. "I fear I must refuse, Your Graces."

"You fear nothing," Littlefinger muttered.

"I wish to serve the throne and King, nothing else."

"If you're sure, Varys?" Daenerys said.

"I am."

"Then that is all," Jon concluded. "Once my Kingsguard reach, and the Citadel send a Maester, I will officially announce you as my small council."

"Who will I be replaced by, Your Grace?" Petyr inquired.

"I hoped to ask Prince Doran," Jon replied, further startling Varys. "Daenerys is fond of Dorne, and their loyalty to the throne has always been weak. The offer will show that I think highly of them, and the bones of Cersei Lannister shall please those Sand Snakes."

"Clever thinking, Your Grace," Littlefinger said, displeased that true admiration was evident in his voice.

"And what of Master of laws?" Daenerys said. "And ships? We will need more ships in order for me to take my Unsullied to Dragonstone, and still have some left for the royal fleet. And—"

"The best sailors are rumoured to be at Storm's End with Stannis' daughter. In a month's time, I will go, and seek my master."

"You seem to have thought this through," Tyrion commented.

"Long and hard," agreed Jon. "Once all this hard work is done, I can get to the drinking and whoring," Jon jested.

"As they say," Littlefinger grinned. "Hard work pays off."

III

Varys

I am so pleased, so very pleased, were the thought in Varys' head as he padded softly towards his chambers. He is not great, but he is learning. The small council meeting—in Varys' opinion—had gone well. Exceedingly well. Slowly, Jon was beginning to rule as a King should, didn't rely on his Hand to do all his work, placed his own network of spies around his castle. Not nearly as many as Varys, or as loyal, but his numbers had long surpassed Petyr, whose time in the Vale had diminished his influence in the Red Keep, and beginning to match that of Tyrion's. If he keeps this up the realm may just have some peace in their hands. Varys would still have preferred to have had Daenerys rule, the peace may have taken a while to reach and quite a but of work to sustain, considering the woman's temper and stubbornness, but he had much more influence over Daenerys than Jon. Also, she had much less honour and sense of morality than her nephew, and a firm sense of her own justice which he thought would've made her a better player at the game. Still, he was starting to find that he liked the Northman much more than he believed he would, and come to find that like his father, he had an affinity for ruling, whereas Daenerys had an affinity for conquering. He had been silly to confuse the two. And he is learning to play the game. This thought pleased Varys more than words could describe, he only hoped that Jon would come to trust him as he trusted Tyrion. I could help him, lead him. Tyrion was cunning and clever, Varys admitted, but the man still lacked the sly and careful thinking that Varys possessed.

Ah, the King is still young, he may come to trust me yet. First though, I must find Brandon and Rickon.