SPOILER ALERT!: GAME OF THRONES REFERENCES ARE DRAWN MOSTLY FROM THE BOOKS, SINCE I'VE ONLY SEEN THE FIRST SEASON OF THE SERIES. MORE SPECIFICALLY, I WILL BE LEADING OFF FROM THE LAST APPEARANCE OF JON SNOW IN A DANCE WITH DRAGONS SO IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT BOOK YET, YOU MAY NOT WANT TO READ THIS FIC. ALL I WILL SAY HERE IS THAT CERTAIN THINGS WERE LEFT VERY OPEN AND FRUSTRATINGLY AMBIGUOUS, AND, SINCE THE NEXT BOOK IS NOT YET OUT, I WILL BE TAKING LENIENCIES AND CLAIMING THESE FANDOMS AS MY PERSONAL PLAYGROUND.

Title: Winter Is Coming

Rating: T, may increase to M for bloodshed and general GoT-style awesomeness

Genre: Drama/Hurt/Comfort/Betrayal/Adventure/Action…basic ally a bit of everything

Category A: Rise of the Guardians

Category B: A Song of Ice & Fire/Game of Thrones

Characters: Jon Snow, Jack Frost, Ghost, Daenerys, probably heavy mentions of Arya because she's fabulous, appearances by assorted other characters from both fandoms.

Summary: The Stark words: "Winter is coming". But Jon wasn't a Stark. He was a Snow. A bastard. A brother to the heirs of Winterfell and a Brother of the Watch. He was a warg and a Wildling. And, unknown, but most important, he was Winter's champion.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not the genius behind A Song of Ice & Fire, nor one of the ones behind Rise of the Guardians. All I own is my own insanity, which I claim proudly and fully blame for this convoluted mess.

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Chapter Two: DAENERYS

Dany raised an arm, letting her fingers comb through the wind as Drogon winged lazily across the sky. Below her, her newly claimed khalasar sailed their living crafts across the Dothraki sea. Once again, she was their khaleesi, their queen by her own rights and power. Even the fearsome horse lords knew it was better to bend the knee when faced with fire and death. It bolstered her confidence; all would kneel to the dragon.

A frigid bite leapt out of the wind, nipping at her bare shoulders and making her lean against Drogon's warm neck. Dragons, it seemed, did not like the cold. "Winter is coming," she murmured, trying to remember whose words they were. It surprised her when she realized they belonged to the Usurper's traitorous Hand. Of all the words that could have popped into her head…she took solace that at least she hadn't quoted the pompous lies of Lannister or Baratheon…both their boasts belonged to her, anyway. And she couldn't deny the truth of the Stark words. It was longer coming here across the sea, but winter was on its way.

Drogon bellowed, shooting a jet of flame through the sky. Dany shook off her reverie, gazing into the horizon. A hazy silhouette greeted her, cloaked in smoke and dust. Her city. It was faint, but she heard the roars of Viserion and Rhaegal, sending furious greetings to their larger sibling from their dark pit. She breathed a sigh of relief; her children were still alive. She could only hope the rest were too.

Flicking her whip, she directed the black dragon down to the grass, sitting tall as her khalasar pulled up around her. Silently, she pointed across the grassy sea to the great pyramid that was a triangular speck, directing their eyes to it. "That is the city of Meereen. Take it. Kill anyone who opposes you." She held faith that her children would not fight against the Dothraki, not when they saw her at their head. Any that did; well, they weren't truly her children, then. She was a mother, yes. But she was also a queen and a dragon. A conqueror.

And she was angry.

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The battle was swift, but satisfactorily bloody. The armies surrounding Meereen had wasted no time in taking up arms when they saw the approaching horde, but a good number had melted into the mists when they saw her swooping from the skies. She let them run; they were no threat to her.

Word of their queen's miraculous return had quickly infiltrated the city, spurring her people out of their timid complacency. By the time the last resister had been felled, the gates were opening to welcome her. Grey Worm stood at the front of her Unsullied army, her would-be king held in his iron grasp.

"What would my queen have me do with this one?"

Daenerys stared at her husband, not missing the terror and guilt in his gaze. He had thought her dead; he had not searched for her. He had probably planned to kill her himself. Slowly, deliberately, she let her eyes drift to the catapults that stood outside her walls. "Return him to his people." Her face was calm and impassive, unbothered by the utter horror on her king's face as the powerful eunuch dragged him through the dust.

Dany didn't need to watch to ensure her bidding was done. The Unsullied were loyal to her and her alone. Instead, she passed through the gates at the head of her Dothrakis, greeted with cheers that ebbed slightly when Drogon glided overhead, settling on one of the lesser pyramids with a mighty roar. She could have smiled. She could have soothed their fears, insisting that the smoke-and-blood behemoth was only a threat to those she chose. That he was tame; or as tame as a dragon could be. But she didn't. All of this pain and death had come around because she had been too soft, too motherly. She had learned that love and respect were two separate things, and a proper queen needed both. Even the kindest mothers had to frighten their children a little.

That was the only way to keep them alive.

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A/N: I'm sorry that sucked. Daenerys is such a complex character…she's difficult to write. But she's kind of important to this story, so I had to bring her in early. Let me know what you think.