Chapter 14: The Call
Summary:
Jon and Dany meet the Sealord of Braavos and the Black Pearl. Dany recovers a long-lost family heirloom. Arya reunites with Jon, and tells him about Ned Stark's call to Winterfell.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter Fourteen: The Call
Ferrego Antaryon was the Sealord of Braavos, and at his side was Quarro Volentin—the current First Sword of Braavos.
Jon was recognized quickly when he approached the Sealord's Palace with Ser Barristan and Prince Oberyn, and they were quickly allowed entry. Apparently, Frostfyre's sudden appearance the night before had caused no small amount of alarm for the rulers of the city.
Unsurprising.
They stood before his court, with guards around them and the First Sword standing close to Ferrego's side.
"So you are the Dragon King," Ferrego said, studying him.
"I am," Jon admitted.
"I must confess, when I heard about a Dragon Rider who had burned down a horde of one hundred thousand Dothraki in Pentos, I was expecting someone…taller."
His lips twitched up into a slight smile. "It was ten thousand at best, My Lord. But aye, I know I am younger than most people expect."
"I hope that your age does not hinder your ability to explain why your dragon chose to land in the middle of my city."
"That would be mostly my fault, I'm afraid," Oberyn spoke up, garnering Ferrego's attention. The Sealord frowned at him, recognition in his eyes. "I attacked the boy rather brashly for a…misunderstanding on my part. The beast was merely defending him. No one was hurt and he sent it away quickly."
"It's been some time since I saw you last, Prince Oberyn," Ferrego murmured. "But you are correct that no one was hurt. Quite a few people pissed and shit themselves, but the dragon did not damage any property, nor did she bring anyone to harm…Can I have your word she will never do such a thing again?"
"Frostfyre will come for me if my life is in danger," Jon admitted, pushing on when the Sealord raised an eyebrow. That wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. "But she will never damage the city or harm anyone who does not deserve it. In any case, we intend to leave Braavos soon. We have overstayed our welcome, I believe. Perhaps a few more weeks, so one of our handmaidens can recover from her recent childbirth, and then we will leave."
"How long have you been in our city? I have heard from several of my bravos that you are a frequent participant in the duels outside my palace."
"Almost seven moons now. We wished to keep our presence quiet. After my battle against Khal Drogo's khalasar in Pentos, we decided it would be best to lay low, to avoid any of King Robert's assassins who would come looking for us. I heard tell that he was not pleased to hear I existed."
Oberyn snorted. "That's putting it lightly."
Ferrego's mouth twitched up into a slight smirk. "Well, I imagine your endeavor to conceal yourself has been mostly successful, then. If an assassin had gotten to you, I believe your dragon would have made herself known rather sooner."
"Aye, My Lord."
"You've stayed in my city for some time now and your dragon has not threatened anyone before, nor did she do any damage to it now," the Sealord drummed his fingers on his armrest. "If you swear to me she will stay away from the city until you decide to depart, I see no reason I should not let you go free."
"You have my word," Jon agreed. "Frostfyre and I are not your enemies. I confess, I've grown to love this place. And Braavos was the closest thing Daenerys has had to a home. Your city holds a special place in our hearts."
"I am glad to hear it. You will be welcome back as long as you wish—just without the dragon."
He dipped his head. "It is your city. I shall follow your rules."
Ferrego relaxed a great deal at that. "Well, now that I am reassured you are not a threat to my city, I must confess that tales of the Dragon King have intrigued me greatly. I would invite you to a feast to welcome you to Braavos, overdue that it is."
Jon pursed his lips. Ideally, he'd prefer to not make another public appearance, but he had only just gained the Sealord's acceptance. He couldn't really refuse such an invitation. "Would you allow Princess Daenerys and two of our men to join us?"
"But of course."
"Then I accept."
"Splendid! The feast will take place tonight. Come to my palace when the Titan roars to announce nightfall. We shall have much to celebrate, I think."
They left the Sealord's Palace unharmed and unhindered. Jon was just relieved it had gone well—it was a good thing the Sealord was a reasonable man.
"You handled that well," Ser Barristan praised him.
"Lord Stark gave me the same education as his firstborn son, Robb. My cousin," Jon admitted, smiling somewhat fondly at the memories. "I've watched him hold court more times than I can count."
"I do not envy you that," Oberyn admitted, stretching his arms over his head. "Doran was always the politician. I'd rather fight and fuck."
Barristan shot him a disapproving look, but Jon just laughed, to which the Prince smirked.
"I think we'll all need to get some rest today," Jon decided. "None of us slept last night. Will you all stay at our home? Or do you already have another place to rest?"
"Ser Jaime and I were staying at a tavern," Barristan told him. "Not that we left anything there."
"I was staying on a ship I took from Dorne. My men are probably wondering where I am by now," Oberyn admitted.
"You should go back and put them at ease," Jon told them. "You'll need your rest for the feast tonight."
"Oh, I'm invited, am I?"
"I did tell the Sealord I'd be bringing two men with Daenerys and I," he shrugged.
"Is this an order?"
"Am I your King?"
"No."
"Then no, it's not an order. But I suppose I could invite Ser Jorah instead…"
"Ha!" Oberyn chuckled. "You have a clever tongue, boy. Well, I certainly won't turn away a good meal. I'll meet you at the Palace tonight."
"We'll see you then," Jon told him, watching the Prince make a beeline to the western side of the city. He was going to one of the nicer ports, the young man decided. It was hard to imagine the Red Viper's ship making port in Ragman's Harbor.
Barristan stepped in beside him. "You intend to leave Ser Jorah with Visenya and her mother?"
"I do. He's the only Knight in my command I can trust at the moment," Jon said, flashing him a sideways glance. "No offense."
"None taken. You are wise to take care whom you place your trust in," the old Knight replied. He was quiet for a moment before he sighed. "But I am afraid I must fracture that trust, Your Grace."
Jon stopped walking, frowning at the man. "How so?"
"Ser Jorah has been reporting to Varys—the Spider—on your movements to the Small Council in the Red Keep."
The boy froze. "You know this how?"
"The Kingsguard stand outside the Small Council chamber to guard it from unwanted visitors. I have overheard his name being brought up multiple times in the context I just told you. I expect Ser Jaime has likely heard his name before, as well. Especially as of late, he is the only spy Varys has that has managed to report anything of value."
"Such as?"
"I am not sure as of late—Jaime and I have been on the road to Braavos for some time, but Jorah was the one who reported on the details of your arrival in Pentos and described your dragon to King Robert. Beyond that, I cannot say. From what I understand, he was assigned to report on Daenerys and Viserys in exchange for a royal pardon to return to Westeros."
Jon's hand clenched the grip of his sword. He'd hoped they'd shaken off the last of the spies in Illyrio's manse. Jorah had been good to them, despite his history.
But maybe he hadn't shaken off his treasonous ways, after all. Even so…
"You understand I cannot accuse him of such a thing without proof of his treachery," Jon told the Knight softly. "If you speak the truth, you will have gained some of my trust. But I need evidence of Jorah's treason beyond the word of a man I barely know."
"I understand," Barristan dipped his head acceptingly. "I only wished to inform you of what I've heard."
"And I thank you for it."
The Knight smiled as they began to walk again. "You have your father's bearing, you know."
Jon glanced at him, his brow still furrowed. "You mean Lord Stark?"
"Well, him too, but I mostly mean Prince Rhaegar," Barristan corrected. "He was a talented negotiator and had a level head on his shoulders. He also had a tendency to brood quite a lot. You resemble him greatly when you are deep in thought, Your Grace."
The young man's brow rose, along with a slight smile. "You must tell Daenerys and I about him sometime."
"It would be my pleasure, Your Grace."
"A feast?" Daenerys repeating, frowning slightly.
"Aye. I did not think it wise to refuse him," Jon confessed to her. They were in her room, about to rest for at least a few hours. "He was gracious for accepting my apology so easily."
"I think you did the right thing," she agreed, then sighed. "I just…do not like the idea of leaving Doreah and Visenya here while we are out celebrating."
"I know," he shrugged off his tunic, tossing it aside as she approached him and set a hand on his shoulder. The other hand rose to cup his cheek, and then she was pulling him into a slow, languorous kiss.
"I suppose I'll be able to put one of the dresses I got from Master Illyrio to good use, at least," she murmured.
"I suppose so," Jon lifted his hands to hold her hips lightly. "How is Doreah?"
"She's…holding on," Dany lay her head on his shoulder, but he guided her to the bed before she could get too comfortable.
She allowed him to tug her beneath the sheets and curled up. Jon held her from behind, wrapping his body around hers. Dany felt him press a kiss to her cheek and her lips twitched into a smile. "The Maester says her fever hasn't broken yet, but that she's survived this long is a good sign. If the fever breaks…"
"She'll make it," Jon murmured. "She told the God of Death to fuck off."
Dany giggled tiredly.
"Visenya?" He asked next.
"She's…she's eating well enough thanks to the wet nurse, but I think she knows she's not with her mother. She cried for a while after you left for the Sealord's Palace."
Jon was quiet for a few moments. "I haven't gotten to hold her yet."
"There will be plenty of time for you to dote on your cousin soon enough," Dany promised. Her eyes were closed as she snuggled her back into his front. Jon squeezed her affectionately.
"What do you think of them? Oberyn, Barristan, Jaime…what do you make of it all?"
"I think I would have preferred it if they were all just a bad dream," she admitted. "But some of the things they've said make a lot of sense. Even Ser Jaime…his story explains so much."
"Do you believe him?"
"I believe my father was mad enough to place caches of Wildfire all over King's Landing."
"I think so too. The question is…do we trust them with our lives?"
"They could have killed us," she pointed out. "Before Frostfyre got to Braavos, we were outmatched. Maybe you and Ser Jorah could have bested Prince Oberyn on his own, but him, the Kingslayer, and Ser Barristan? There would not have been a more opportune moment for them to kill us. We were completely unprepared. It's not as if the bravos would have stopped them, anyways. People die fighting by the Moon Pool all the time."
"Mmhm," Jon suddenly yawned behind her. Dany turned her head to kiss him again.
"No more of this," she whispered against his lips. "Rest now. Talk later."
"As you command, Princess," he nuzzled her neck, his voice humorous to make her giggle one more time, and then they were both slipping away to their dreams.
Jaime managed to get some rest after Jon returned with Ser Barristan. It was several hours of hard sleep his body greatly appreciated after all the excitement of the night before.
He woke up not long before dusk and washed his face. He'd need to bathe before going to this feast the Sealord had invited them to. Jaime was somewhat surprised the young King had decided to bring him along with Oberyn and the Princess, but he assumed he wanted Ser Jorah to remain behind and guard the babe.
Or maybe he just thought Jorah and Barristan wouldn't enjoy a celebration as much as he would, being the old men that they were. The thought filled him with some amusement.
Jaime was making his way to the main room when he almost bumped into the wet nurse, who was carrying Visenya again. She brightened upon seeing him. "Ah, good timing! Would you mind holding her for a few moments? I need to get something to drink and she needs someone to rock her."
"Uh, of course," Jaime managed, carefully taking the babe in his arms and feeling entirely uncomfortable there. He was, he was sure, the very last person in the house they wanted to hold this child.
She squirmed in his arms, whimpering, and Jaime carefully began to rock the girl as he made his way to the main room. It had been a long time since he'd had to do this, but Visenya seemed to calm shortly after he got started. Perhaps his body remembered what to do.
He couldn't help but study her features, taking in the silver hair and violet eyes that were darker than Rhaella's had been. Jaime lost himself in his thoughts, adrift in old memories.
He heard footsteps and glanced towards them, hoping for the wet nurse to return, only to freeze when it turned out to be Jon. The young King blinked at him, surprise in his eyes.
"Your Grace…I assure you this was not my idea," Jaime started.
"I see," Jon appeared to be somewhat amused. "Well, she seems to be doing well. You're surprisingly good at that."
He allowed himself to relax a little, seeing as the Dragon King wasn't about to rip his head off for holding the babe. "I got some practice years ago when my sister's children were born. Joffrey never liked it, but Myrcella and Tommen were good babes."
"I should like to hear about them sometime," Jon murmured. He sounded curious, and it reminded Jaime that despite him being forced to grow up quickly or die, he was still a child in his own right. Almost a man, but not quite there.
"I have much to tell you of them," Jaime replied. "Though some things I'd prefer to keep between us, if that suits you."
"I do not see why I couldn't do that," he said thoughtfully. "As long as you understand that I won't hide things from Daenerys."
"I wouldn't expect you to."
"Good," Jon approached them and held his arms out. "May I?"
"Of course. She is your cousin," Jaime carefully shifted the babe to Jon's arms. "You are her family, not I."
Jon cradled the child somewhat less skillfully than Jamie had, but he'd clearly done this before. Visenya reached up with a small hand and grabbed at his nose. The King smiled softly, nuzzling the little fingers with care.
Jaime felt like he was intruding on something that wasn't meant for his eyes. He quietly took his leave to go to the kitchen, but paused when he heard Jon's voice as he began to sing.
"High in the halls of the Kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts…
"The ones she had lost, and the ones she had found, and the ones who had loved her the most…"
He felt the breath leave his lungs and had to lean back against the wall, eyes wide. Gods above, he sounded so much like Rhaegar…
"The ones who'd been gone for so very long, she couldn't remember their names…
"They spun her around on the damp old stones, spun away all her sorrow and pain…"
Jaime dared to glance around the corner, watching the young Targaryen King sing gently the song Rhaegar himself had composed. The babe was silent, watching and listening to him with the innocent wonder of all young things. Jon's expression was gentle, slowly turning in place as he rocked her.
"And she never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…"
It was strange, but somehow the way he sung cemented in Jaime's head beyond anything else—beyond his Dragon Dreams, the way fire left him unburnt, and even the bloody dragon—that this boy was Rhaegar's son.
He felt someone touch his arm and spun around, freezing when he saw Daenerys there with a finger on her lips. Her eyes were bright as she peeked around the corner as well. Jon's back was currently to them, and he was too focused on Visenya to have noticed anything.
"They danced through the day and into the night, through the snow that swept through the halls…
"From winter to summer, then winter again, 'til the walls did crumble and fall…
"And she never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…never wanted to leave…she never wanted to leave…"
He trailed off into silence, but kept humming the tune for Jenny of Oldstones from deep in his throat. Jaime heard Visenya coo in response and pulled away, not wishing to be seen. Daenerys seemed amused by his attempt to hide and stepped back so she wouldn't be noticed, either.
"He's good," she murmured. "I've told him so before."
Jaime shook his head, still a little stunned. "He sounds like his father. Rhaegar loved to sing."
Dany's eyes flashed with longing and grief, but she said nothing more. Instead, she stepped away from Jaime and approached Jon and Visenya. Jaime watched her join them for only a few moments before he slipped away. He had already intruded too much.
The feast was, as expected, over the top given how spectacular the Sealord's Palace was.
Daenerys sipped from a cup of light wine, going easy on the liquor for the night. Jon was doing the same. Neither of them were particularly fond of alcohol, and as they were not yet fully grown, their tolerance was lower than most.
The Sealord had announced their presence to quite the gathering of merchants, the like of which were rather eager to meet the last Targaryens—especially after Frostfyre's sudden appearance the night before. As had happened in Pentos, they were showered with gifts.
She really had no idea where they were going to put them, but at least many of the gifts were small since the feast had been last-minute.
She exchanged a glance with Jon and he smiled at her. "Ready to escape yet?"
Dany smirked. "I do not think our host would find that to be acceptable behavior, Your Grace."
"Probably not," he admitted. Jon pursed his lips, looking shy as he had when they first met almost a year ago. "You look beautiful."
She flushed pleasantly. Dany had chosen to wear a flowing, sleeveless dress that left her back open. It was red and black—the colors of their House, and hugged her growing figure nicely. Below the waist, it fanned around and behind her in short waves, stopping just above her ankles. As she often did, she donned her seashell bracelet, something which suited Braavos as a coastal city.
Jon himself was also garbed in Targaryen finery courtesy of the Magisters of Pentos. A fine black tunic, as well as dark breeches and boots, lined with the bloody red of the three-headed dragon. Their sigil was cast in colored metal, pinned to Jon's chest above his heart.
The dark colors suited him, made him striking and even more handsome, she thought.
"You do enjoy flattery, don't you?" Dany teased.
"Aye," he answered shamelessly. She laughed at his grin.
Jaime sat to Dany's left, the Sealord to Jon's right, and Oberyn on Ferrego's other side. The arrangement was mostly meant to show them as allies—to put the people attending at ease after Frostfyre had so alarmed them.
The Sealord suddenly set his hand on Jon's arm to get his attention, gesturing to the back of the room as the doors opened. Much of the room went silent for a moment, then filled with cheers. Daenerys craned her neck, curious to see what was the cause of such excitement.
A beautiful woman strode through the doors with a number of bravos escorting her. She was young and lovely—perhaps ten-and-eight at least or twenty name days, Dany guessed. Her skin was a light brown, her hair black, and her breasts full—accentuated by a gorgeous yellow dress that accentuated her curves in all the right ways.
Prince Oberyn whistled. "Fuck me, now there's a beauty."
"Who is that?" Dany asked of the Sealord.
"That is the most beautiful and famous courtesan in Braavos," Ferrego answered, not taking his eyes off of the woman as if reluctant to waste even a second doing so. "Lady Bellegere Otherys, the Black Pearl of Braavos. She is the most desired woman in Braavos—perhaps the world. She sleeps upon rose petals and wears silken skirts that rustle when she walks. Great Lords beg and render themselves bankrupt to share her company for a night. It's rare to see her away from her barge."
Daenerys raised an eyebrow at the description. Jon exchanged a glance with her, and she was strangely pleased that he didn't seem as enamored by the woman as everyone else was.
Perhaps sensing her thoughts, he leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"She might be beautiful, but I prefer violet eyes and silver hair."
That made her lips rise and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. They turned together and watched as the courtesan approached them. Bellegere was the epitome of female sensuality, her hips swaying in a way that was natural, yet entrancing. Her pouty lips were tilted upwards slightly, her dark eyes gleaming. Even Daenerys had to admit the woman was otherworldly with her beauty.
Bellegere stopped before them and when Dany glanced to the right, she saw that Oberyn and the Sealord were openly undressing her with their eyes.
Ugh.
"Welcome to the Sealord's Palace, Lady Bellegere," Ferrego welcomed her graciously. "We are most pleased to host you."
"And I am pleased to be here," she replied, her voice rich and cultured. Her eyes focused on Jon, then Daenerys, and back again. "The two of you are the dragons, then?"
"We are the last of House Targaryen, yes," Jon told her.
"If I might say so, you don't look much like a Targaryen from what I know of them," Bellegere told him, looking to the Princess next. "Princess Daenerys does, on the other hand."
"Aegon took after his mother strongly," Daenerys explained. "But he is Rhaegar Targaryen's son. My nephew."
"I see," Bellegere's lips rose into an interested smile. "We share a distant relation, then."
That caught them both off-guard. Jon tilted his head. "How so?"
"My family goes back many generations to the first Black Pearl of Braavos," Bellegere told them, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Dany watched her cleavage rise subtly and wondered if she was trying to seduce them. "She was a Pirate Queen who became the lover of Aegon IV Targaryen. Their eldest daughter, Bellenora, became a courtesan under the same name, and her female descendants after her did as well."
"This is true," the Sealord nodded. "All Braavosi know the story. She has dragon blood in her veins, just as you do."
If Dany remembered right, she was pretty sure Aegon IV, known more infamously as "Aegon the Unworthy" had not been a stellar example of a Targaryen King. He had been the one to catalyze the Blackfyre Rebellions by legitimizing so many of his bastard children.
Still, she couldn't deny that this particular bloodline of his had turned out to be startlingly beautiful. She imagined the dragon blood was probably heavily diluted by now, but it was an interesting connection, nonetheless.
"Given how much our House has been reduced in recent years, I'm pleased to hear something of our bloodline has endured outside of Westeros," Daenerys admitted.
"The world can be a small place at times," Bellegere agreed. She leaned towards them—yes, she was definitely taking advantage of her breasts now, Dany thought—with a conspiratorial, but hopeful smile. "But I was wondering if I might ask the two of you a favor, Your Grace?"
"What would that be?"
"Would you allow me to see the dragon, Frostfyre?"
Jon pursed his lips and exchanged a glance with Daenerys. "See her, yes. Meet her…might not be wise."
"How so?"
"She can be aggressive with strangers," he admitted, looking at Bellegere. Dany was somewhat amused to see him focusing hard on her eyes, given that the courtesan's breasts were rather exposed to their eyes. "You must understand, she is not a pet."
"I imagine not," Bellegere sounded amused. "But I would be more than pleased simply to lay eyes upon her, even at a distance. I did not get to see her when she appeared yesterday."
Dany relaxed. "Aegon can probably encourage her to fly over the city briefly. But she cannot land in Braavos again. We do not wish to make light of Lord Ferrego's forgiveness for the incident yesterday."
The Sealord nodded in response, pleased to see that his forgiveness had not been forgotten.
"That would more than please me," Bellegere smiled, pulling back. She half-turned, gesturing to one of her bravos, who hurried forward with a box in his hands. "Princess Daenerys, as I understand it, you have lived in our city before, have you not?"
"Many years ago, when I was still a little girl, yes," she murmured. "My brother and I lived together with our guardian until he died from an illness, and then we were forced onto the streets when our servants stole our money."
"I see. My condolences for your suffering," Bellegere murmured as she set the box on the table in front of them. "But I have something you might like to have back in your hands."
Dany blinked. "What would that be?"
"Some six years ago, when I was still but a girl, unflowered and untried, my mother took a certain man to her bed in exchange for this. He claimed he got it from the two Targaryen children who were begging for food on our streets."
Bellegere opened the box and reached in. When her hands re-emerged, Dany's breath left her lungs.
Bellegere held a crown in her hands, a slim circlet of Valyrian Steel with a sizable ruby embedded in the center, and smaller rubies in petal-like structures on the sides in sets of five. Daenerys would have recognized it anywhere.
"My mother's crown," Dany choked out, eyes going wide.
Jon stared at her, startled, and then his eyes flew to the crown. Bellegere smiled at Daenerys gently. "The man who took this from you and your brother was truly cruel. You could have gained so much more than just food for such a crown. I believe this should go back to House Targaryen. Do you not think the same?"
Dany looked up at her with tears in her eyes. "How can I possibly repay you for—"
"Let me see the dragon, Frostfyre," Bellegere told her. "As close as you believe to be safe. In any case, I certainly won't be living less comfortably if you have it back. But I hope you might remember to see me whenever you visit Braavos."
"Of course," Dany quickly schooled her features and wiped her eyes, accepting the crown from Bellegere with trembling hands. She ran her fingers over the steel, the rubies, and a long-accepted gap in her heart was slowly filled again. Mother…
"Dany?" Jon regained her attention with a gentle touch to her arm. She looked up at him and he held his hands out for the crown. "I think it would look better upon your head, don't you?"
A lump rose in her throat and she nodded, relinquishing the crown and bowing her head just long enough for Jon to carefully place it upon her. The steel rested there, cold and light, and yet she would never forget the weight of it.
Bellegere beamed. "Now you look like a Queen, Princess."
Dany laughed, smiling at the courtesan with true happiness. "You are a kind and wonderful woman, Lady Bellegere."
"I am pleased to receive such a compliment," Bellegere replied. She glanced to Jon and back to Daenerys. "Might I invite the two of you to my barge for the night? Wandering around with what you have now, with swords at your belts—many bravos will undoubtedly feel tremendous greed from the sight of them."
She and Jon exchanged another look, and Dany nodded. "I think we would appreciate such an invitation."
Bellegere's barge was a thing of luxury, to say the least.
It was richly embellished, and massive—the biggest of any courtesan's in Braavos. The Black Pearl's legacy had turned it into a place of comfort, merriness, and most noticeably sensuality. A number of other courtesans served in Bellegere's home, and Jon had already heard a few of them through the doors of their chambers with company.
The sounds he'd heard were—well.
Oberyn looked only too pleased to be present. Jaime was distinctly uncomfortable, on the other hand, though he wore a stoic mask, nonetheless. Bellegere saw to it that their gifts were kept safe in a chamber set aside just for Dany and himself. Another across the hall was set up for Jaime and the Dornish Prince.
"We'll see you in the morning, then," Oberyn told them, eyes gleaming with lust. "Although I think I might be spending my night with someone other than Ser Jaime. Might there be a place to mingle with your guests, Lady Bellegere?"
"Bow of the barge," she told him, looking rather amused.
Oberyn offered them a bow and strode off. Jon only shook his head slightly in bemusement.
He glanced at Jaime. "Go ahead and rest, Ser. We shall see you in the morning."
"As you command, Your Grace," he replied. "If you have need of me, I will be just across the hall."
Jaime was quick to retreat to his chambers. Bellegere meanwhile showed them into the room Dany and Jon would share that night. It was surprisingly large, with a massive bed covered by silken sheets, and cups of scented oils and rose petals. The lighting was low and the atmosphere was different from anything Jon had ever experienced before, and yet it was enticing to say the least.
The door closed behind them, leaving himself and Dany alone with Bellegere. The Black Pearl of Braavos clasped her hands before her.
"I hope the room is to your tastes," Bellegere proclaimed. Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "No one shall bother the two of you."
Jon reddened and he could see Dany's pale face flush in the low light. The suggestive tone was easy to notice, and their embarrassment caused Bellegere to laugh. She opened the door and slipped out, flashing them both a teasing smile from her pouty lips. "Enjoy your rest, my young dragons."
The door closed and the two of them were left in an awkward silence for a few moments.
"Well," Dany said at last. "She's…interesting."
"Aye," he agreed. "It's strange to imagine that she's descended from Targaryen Kings like we are."
"Mm," she hummed. Dany removed her mother's crown and held it in her hands, turning it slowly to take in every detail she had forgotten over the years.
Jon walked up behind her, wrapping his arms round her waist. "I'm happy for you."
"I never thought I would see this again," she whispered. "Losing mother's crown was what made my brother so bitter. When we had to give it up for food, he gave up his happiness with it…If he'd only lived long enough to see us get this back, maybe—"
"Don't," he stopped her gently. Jon pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Don't do that to yourself, Dany. Viserys rests now."
"I know," Dany stared at the crown for a few moments longer, then pulled away from Jon to set it on a small table next to the bed. She turned to face him next, eyes solemn. Unwilling to let her end the night with sorrow in her heart, he walked until he stood before her and cupped her face in his hands, slotting his mouth against hers.
"I want you to be happy," he murmured against her lips. Jon trailed his kisses to her cheek, her jaw, and then her neck. Her hands rose to his hair, twining her fingers through his dark locks. "Let me make you happy. Let me love you, Daenerys."
Dany pulled him to her, stumbling backwards towards the bed, and they fell together into silken sheets that smelled of rose petals and the sea wind.
The next day saw them taking a ship owned by Bellegere out of Braavos, after they'd dropped off their new gifts at home.
Jorah was still there, watching over Doreah, Visenya, and the household, of course. Jon had insisted Barristan, Jaime, and Oberyn come with them to retrieve the weapons Frostfyre had flown off with.
They sailed to the mainland not far south of the city, to a patch of empty coastline. Once there, they went to the shore in small rowboats. Bellegere had a number of her bravos guarding her, while their own company remained close to Daenerys.
She watched as Jon closed his eyes, reaching for his bond with the dragon. Before long, they heard the familiar bellow that could only belong to Frostfyre.
The great, white dragon soared overhead from the southeast, circling above them. She cast a shadow upon them as her wings blocked out the run, now high in the sky. Jon walked ahead of their company a fair distance as Frostfyre came down to land. Her wings kicked up a storm of dust and debris, and then she landed with the heavy thuds of her powerful, clawed feet.
She was eager to lower her head and meet Jon, growling in content when he set a hand on her snout and rubbed her scales. Dany glanced at Bellegere and saw the wonder shining in the older woman's eyes.
"That's incredible," Bellegere breathed. "She will not hurt him?"
"Frostfyre is no ordinary animal, My Lady," Daenerys told her, smiling. "Dragons are as intelligent as men—if not more so. They have a different way of thinking, for they are not human, but they know friend from foe, and they are capable of love and hate, just as we are. Jon and Frostfyre were born together…as he came into the world, so too did she. They are brother and sister. Twins, one could say."
"How did that come to be?" Oberyn asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Valyrian magic."
"I wonder why he never tried to hatch the egg for Rhaenys and Aegon," Jaime murmured absently.
Oberyn looked mildly irritated by that, but Daenerys cut it off before he started something. "'Only death can pay for life', Ser Jaime. That was another prophecy Rhaegar saw in his Dragon Dreams. The magic used to hatch Frostfyre…the price was Lyanna Stark's life as she died giving birth. Or maybe it was my brother's death when he fell in battle against the Usurper. We don't know."
That shut Oberyn up before he could open his mouth. They all fell into a grave silence.
She spotted the bundle of weapons they'd given Frostfyre near one of her feet. It was a little worse for wear—it had been clenched in her claws, after all—but from what she could see, everything was still intact. She supposed the Prince and ex-Kingsguard would be getting their weapons back, after all.
But more than that, she focused on Frostfyre herself. The white dragon had not been seen by her or Jon often over the past several months, but she was noticeably larger. Whereas once she had been capable of biting a horse in half, Dany wondered now if she could in fact swallow one whole. The warmth of the south and abundance of food was clearly doing the dragon great favors. Jon was positively tiny compared to her.
She was still nowhere near as large as Balerion the Black Dread, who had been capable of swallowing mammoths, but her size was still mind-boggling.
Jon turned then and called to them. "Dany! Bring Bellegere!"
Bellegere looked startled. "Really?"
"She looks like she's in a good mood," Dany told her. "Come on. Just stay close to me."
She took Bellegere's hand and slowly guided the courtesan towards the dragon. Bellegere waved down her bravos when they hesitantly started to follow them—a wise decision, all things considered. Frostfyre didn't like to deal with lots of people.
Dany felt Bellegere trembling somewhat as they grew closer to the huge, white dragon. Frostfyre's violet eyes flicked from Jon to the women, and she studied them curiously.
They took slow steps to Jon, and he met them with an easy smile. "Don't be afraid. She won't do you harm."
Bellegere only nodded, her eyes wide as she stared at Frostfyre up close. The dragon twisted her head slightly to stare at the courtesan, studying her with that uncanny sharpness. Dany lifted Bellegere's hand slowly holding her at the wrist as Frostfyre sniffed them, breathing deep.
She pressed Bellegere's palm to the dragon's scales. The courtesan let out a gasp.
"She's warm!" Bellegere exclaimed, eyes wide.
"Dragons are fire made flesh," Jon told her. He ran his hand along Frostfyre's jaw and neck, slowly walking beneath her body towards her feet. Dany stayed with Bellegere, cooing to Frostfyre. The dragon's nostrils flared and she fixed on Dany somewhat more sharply, head tilting with interest.
Dany wondered if Frostfyre could smell traces of Visenya. The way her pupils thinned and dilated was similar to when the dragon had met Daenerys herself.
Perhaps she was realizing that another Targaryen had come into the world.
Jon returned to them after a few minutes, though he hadn't brought the bundle of weapons. He did, however, hold something in his hands.
"Lady Bellegere," he murmured to get her attention. Jon showed her what he held—five of Frostfyre's snowy-white scales. They were an inch thick, harder than steel, longer and wider than his hands. Yet Dany knew they were surprisingly light; they had to be for the dragon to get airborne at all. "A gift for you."
Bellegere stared at the scales with wide eyes and accepted them reverently. She looked up at the dragon, who watched them. "She does not mind?"
"Frostfyre sheds many scales as she grows," Jon told her. "I just pulled some of the loose ones. It is not much, but…"
"You belittle your gift, Your Grace," Bellegere chastised him, beaming. "To meet your dragon up close and to be gifted such beautiful armor from her own hide—that is not a small favor in my eyes."
Dany smiled. "I think it is the least we owe you for helping my mother's crown find its way to us."
"Well, perhaps next time you are in Braavos, you can entertain me with a flight?"
Jon grinned. "Perhaps so."
Frostfyre rumbled and pulled back, startling Bellegere. Dany set a hand on her arm. "Do not be afraid. She likely wishes to go hunting."
The dragon turned around, took two quick steps further down the beach, and launched herself into the air with a shriek. Her wings pounded down as she twisted above the ocean, sending up sprays of seawater, and then she wheeled towards the east and disappeared from sight.
Bellegere let out a long breath, looking shaken save for the huge smile upon her face. "Fortune has blessed you, Your Grace."
"In many ways, My Lady," Jon agreed, looking after his dragon fondly. "In many ways."
Frostfyre had left Jaime's, Barristan's, and Oberyn's weapons for them to retrieve when she flew off. They returned to the house with the red door after parting ways with Bellegere, just as the sun was beginning to descend from its high peak.
Prince Oberyn waited until they were all indoors before he cleared his throat to get their attention. "I believe this is where we must part ways."
Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "You are going home?"
"I am. I have learned the truth, and now there is no reason for me to remain here," he said simply. "Besides, Doran will undoubtedly want to know what I've discovered."
Jon watched him warily. "I trust you will not put forth any information that will threaten the safety of House Stark, then?"
"With all due respect, Jaehaerys, your Northern features are impossible to ignore," Oberyn pointed out. "It would not surprise me if the truth of you has come out when I return to Westeros—or at least been suspected."
The boy's eyes narrowed and the Prince lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. "But I will not share that information with Doran until it gets out some other way. You have my word on that. I have been convinced that you did not take Aegon's name out of ill will."
"Good. You tell your brother that one day, I do intend to seek out retribution for what happened to your sister and my half-siblings. Even if I do not come for the Iron Throne, I will see Tywin Lannister and Gregor Clegane get what is coming to them."
The Prince's eyes darkened. "On that, we agree."
Oberyn looked next at Daenerys and dipped his head. "Our time together was not always friendly, but I am pleased to see your lot in life has improved, Princess. It is my wish that we might one day be able to repair the damage that was done between our families."
"One day," she nodded.
He had nothing to say to Ser Jorah, Jaime, or Barristan. With a slanted grin, he bowed to them one last time and then twisted on his heel, leaving them behind.
"Are you sure it is wise, Your Grace?" Jorah asked, frowning. "Letting him leave after he's learned so much information about you?"
"Killing Prince Oberyn or imprisoning him would only convince the Dornish that we are their enemies," Jon reasoned. "He deserved answers, and he got them. Should he betray our trust—well, then we will not owe them any further courtesy, will we?"
Jorah nodded in acceptance. Barristan spoke next. "What is our next move, Your Grace?"
"We cannot remain in Braavos much longer, I think," Jon admitted. "But we cannot yet leave. Not while Doreah is healing and Visenya is still so newly born. We'll remain for some weeks and plan our next travel route."
"Frostfyre's appearance here will undoubtedly draw unwanted eyes to us," Dany agreed.
"With King Robert gone, I imagine Westeros won't be pursuing you quite as intensely," Jaime pointed out.
"Perhaps not, but it's still too risky for us to remain in the same place for so long, especially so close to the coast," she replied. "Visenya is too vulnerable and we have only four swords to our name for now. I'm still not good enough with a blade to be a reliable defense."
Barristan's eyebrows rose. He looked startled. "You are learning to wield a sword, Princess?"
"I am the blood of the dragon, Ser Barristan. I was not born to be a quiet Princess who knits and bows and submits myself to the whims of men," Daenerys told him, smirking. "Though I confess, I still have much to learn. I am no seasoned warrior…yet."
"We can discuss more of our plans in the evening, when we've finished our tasks for the day," Jon said. "For now—we need to replenish our supply of fresh water from the Sweetwater River, and we have more mouths to feed. Ser Jorah, if you would take Ser Jaime to sort out our water problem. I'll take stock of our food and get some coin ready for when we go to the market."
"As you will, Your Grace," Jorah dipped his head. He and Jaime left then, but Jon watched them go with slight wariness in his eyes. He hadn't forgotten Barristan's warning, but he wouldn't damn Jorah unless he found evidence of treachery. For all he knew, Barristan was trying to trick them.
He sighed and left to go take stock of their food stores in the kitchen.
Doreah's fever broke five days after she gave birth to Visenya.
It was a massive relief for all of them. With the worst behind her, the young woman began to heal at a much better pace. A week after she was rid of the birthing fever, the Maester declared she was healthy enough to feed Visenya at her breast again.
"Your body can afford such an expense now," he had told her while Dany and Jon listened in close to their friend. "I urge you not to travel for perhaps another half-moon, but you are recovering well."
With a more accurate timetable now in place, the group started to plan their next move. They decided to head further inland to the city of Norvos. There, they'd be further from Westeros and less likely to run into any assassins—not to say that it wouldn't be dangerous at all. None of them were naive enough to believe that.
They needed to start working on their long-term goals. Dany and Jon did not want to go after the Iron Throne—at least not now, but they needed to find a place to settle somewhere so they wouldn't have to keep jumping from place to place every so often.
It would be better for Visenya, as well. She was still so young, and a life on the roads of Essos was not an easy one for a babe. It made them seriously consider staying in the Free Cities for longer than they normally would, until she was stronger.
Dany and Jon meant to wed soon, as well. They'd decided to go through with the ceremony a few days before they left Braavos. Both of them were rather excited for that, as one could imagine.
For now, Jon led Dany through one of the marketplaces in Braavos, enjoying some time together. Jaime was shadowing them, donning traveler's clothes with a simple, grey cloak to conceal his sword for the most part.
"Here," Dany spotted a red fruit she was fond of and hurried over to the vendor. They exchanged words in Valyrian for a few moments before she handed over some coin and came away with a handful of the treat. "You must try this one."
She offered some to Jon, and he bit into it. The fruit was sweet, and he hummed as he savored it.
"It's good, isn't it?" Dany's eyes gleamed as she enjoyed her own snack. "I love these."
"I can see why," he smiled, nudging her in a friendly way.
"Do you want one, Ser Jaime?" Dany offered one of the small fruits to the Knight. Jaime seemed to consider it before shrugging and accepting the gift.
They were walking further up the Sweetwater River towards the Moon Pool, where the marketplace extended, when they heard someone calling.
"Jon!"
Jon paused mid-step and frowned, turning to and fro to search for whoever was calling. He looked further north and spotted someone working their way through the crowd—
His mouth fell open as he recognized Arya Stark rushing towards him.
"JON!" She shouted, eyes alight and grinning widely.
"Arya!" Jon gasped, bolting towards her while Daenerys watched with bewildered eyes. He scooped up his sister and spun her around, squeezing the life out of her.
"Oof! You're crushing me, you dolt!"
Not that she was any better. She was choking him with her arms wound around his neck so tightly. Jon set her down on her feet and pulled back, staring at her with wide eyes and holding her arms tight. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Arya shot back, still grinning from ear to ear. "Father said you were here with the Dragon King! You won't believe what's happening back home! King Robert died and Joffrey's a bastard and we had to sneak out of King's Landing to make sure father wasn't executed and—"
"Slow down," Jon held a hand up, overloaded by her chattering.
"You're Jon Snow?"
His gaze rose up to a man that followed Arya; he was older, with a mostly bald head and greying hair, but kind eyes.
"Oh, right—this is Ser Davos!" Arya told him. "Father asked him to bring me here."
"What for?" Jon frowned deeply. "What's going on?"
"Jon?"
He looked back at Daenerys and Ser Jaime, who were slowly approaching them. His lover was staring from Arya to Ser Davos and back to him. "Is everything alright?"
Davos paled upon seeing the Kingslayer. "Lord Snow, you do know who this man is, don't you?"
"I do," Jon waved the concern away. "He's not a threat to us. Look—let's get back to our house. I can tell there's a lot to talk about."
Davos didn't relax, but Arya was vibrating with energy, at least. "Can we see the dragon?"
"Later, little wolf," Jon promised.
To say Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah were surprised when Arya and Ser Davos returned to the house with Dany, Jon, and Ser Jaime was an understatement. But there surprise didn't hold a candle to what Arya and Davos were telling them.
When Arya finished their tale, their eyes were wide and Jon's mind was reeling.
"Well," Jaime remarked calmly. "We left King's Landing for a few moons and it all went to hell."
"That, Ser, is what we call an understatement," Davos grunted.
Jon wasn't fixated on that. He looked at Jaime with a stunned expression. "Is it true? Are Cersei's children really yours?"
Jaime didn't speak for a few moments. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Yes."
"You were cuckolding the King with your own sister?" Jorah's mouth hadn't yet closed from when it had fallen open.
Barristan looked ready to tear Jaime's head off for what he'd done. Arya had an expression of disgust on her face, though Dany was just surprised. She and Jon had less disapproval towards the concept of incest, although Jon was definitely uneasy with the union of siblings.
"Cersei and I…" Jaime started, his eyes far away. "When we were younger, when we were children, it felt harmless enough. We were young and stupid. Just kids. Then I left for King's Landing to serve as a Kingsguard. I met Queen Rhaella, and I lost her. After that—I just stopped caring. The world was fucked. Everything was fucked. I didn't care what Cersei goaded me into. I let her do what she liked because if I got caught and died...well, so what?"
"So what? So what?! You and your sister created a false dynasty while you were serving in the Kingsguard!" Barristan roared, a hand on his sword's grip. "Did your vows mean nothing?!"
"Don't act like you weren't aware of the others," Jaime scoffed. "I was hardly the only Kingsguard who had a lover."
"YOU WERE FUCKING THE QUEEN!"
"You want to take my head? Then take my head," the Kingslayer snapped. "Take it in the name of the King we cheated, who built his throne on the bodies of dead children. Take it in the name of the Kingsguard who told me to do nothing as my Queen was raped by a madman. Go on—take it."
Barristan started drawing his sword, but Jon waved him off. "No beheading is to be done under our roof."
"He just confessed to treason!"
"I know," Jon rubbed his furrowed brow. "Gods above and below, what were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that nothing really mattered in the world anymore. I was already a dishonorable man who slew the King he'd sword to protect. No one would miss me if I were gone."
"You killed a madman who was going to turn the whole of King's Landing into a pyre," Daenerys growled. "That is very, very different."
"No one believed me. It wouldn't stop their distrust anyways. What was the point?"
"Stop," Davos held a hand up. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about?"
And so Jon filled in Davos and Arya as to what the Mad King had intended to do to King's Landing—and what Jaime had done to stop him.
"Seven hells!" Arya's jaw dropped when the story was over.
Davos' face was bloodless. "You mean to tell me my family has been living above caches of Wildfire all this time?"
"You and every other soul in the city," Jaime admitted grimly. "Not that Robert ever listened to me. Nor did Cersei ever do anything about it."
"Well," Arya swallowed. "Joffrey's a cunt, but Myrcella and Tommen are nice. I guess you saving the city makes up for all of that, doesn't it?"
"Good deeds don't erase treason, Lady Stark."
"First, I'm not a Lady. Second, what you did shouldn't be ignored! King's Landing could have been turned into a pile of ashes!"
"You both make good points," Daenerys agreed. "But I'm more inclined to let Ser Jaime off light since Robert Baratheon got his throne by slaughtering my niece and nephew. His legacy should end as undeserving as it started."
She looked at the Lannister Knight. "It doesn't make you any less of an idiot."
He just shrugged, looking tired. "I know my faults. I've never denied them."
Barristan took a deep breath, reigning in his temper. "Fine. Then what are we to do about Lord Stark's summons?"
Arya frowned. "Shouldn't you ask the Dragon King about that? Isn't he in charge of all of you?"
Daenerys felt a smile tug at her lips and she glanced at Jon, who seemed to be contemplating how to break the truth to her. "Jon and I make the decision together, Arya."
"Why? That doesn't make any—"
"Arya Stark," Dany inclined her head towards Jon, who watched his sister—well, cousin—nervously. "Jaehaerys Targaryen, the Dragon King."
Arya stared. Her gaze went from Jon to Dany and back again. "What?"
"Are you ready for another story?" Jon asked, smiling hesitantly.
And so they filled Arya and Ser Davos in on that tale, as well. The story of Rhaegar and Lyanna, as well as the truth of Jon's parentage and why he was hidden away in the North.
Poor Davos looked as if his mind had exploded rather painfully. "I think I need something to drink."
Dany was mostly sure Arya was broken. The girl's mouth was opening and closing, eyes huge as she regarded Jon. He watched her reaction nervously—clearly worried as to how she'd respond.
Finally, Arya leapt up and ran to him, punching Jon in the shoulder.
"Ow!" Jon yelped.
"You flew on a dragon to another continent to fight a horde of Dothraki and you didn't bring me?!"
She punched his arm again and then began to storm back and forth across the room, trying to process it all. She suddenly froze and spun on her heel to stare at him.
"Wait—that one time you came back from the Wall and told us you flew on a dragon—"
"I actually flew on a dragon, yes."
"I thought you were being sarcastic!"
Jaime snorted and Dany pursed her lips, trying not to laugh.
And then Arya's face became filled with an odd mix of disgust and glee. "Oh gods, Sansa was swooning over you."
"What the fuck?"
This time Dany did burst out laughing by the utterly baffled look on Jon's face. Arya just shook her head.
"Not important," she decided after a moment. "I still have a million questions for you, but you'll answer father's call, won't you?"
Jon exchanged a glance with Daenerys. It was risky to say the least—neither of them had expected to be anywhere near Westeros for at least the next few years, let alone now.
Except…
"We can't ignore Euron Greyjoy," Dany told him. "If he has this…Dragonbinder Horn, he might be able to take Frostfyre. That's to say nothing of the dragon egg he has. If we join forces with your uncle, at least we'll have an army to help us stop him."
"Father said he was going to tell in the North about the Dragon King," Arya said. "To help them understand why he was calling him—you to arms."
"The Northmen are stubborn bastards," Jon muttered, frowning. "It's dangerous. If it were just Frostfyre and I, I'd be there in a heartbeat, but Dany—"
"I'll be fine."
"What about Doreah and Visenya?"
"We'll take them with us," she said, looking to Ser Davos. "You were meant to bring us back to White Harbor, weren't you?"
"That was the plan," he confirmed.
Dany turned back to Jon. "Doreah is well enough to travel now and Visenya isn't at such a great risk. Ser Jorah, Jaime, and Barristan will go with Ser Davos to guard them. Irri and Jhiqui will be there as well."
"Where will you be?"
"I'll be flying with you to Winterfell."
Jon frowned and opened his mouth, but she could already see the argument forming in his mind and cut him off. "You and I are equals, Jon. When you appear in Winterfell before the Lords of the North, I will stand beside you."
"It's dangerous…"
"Our life is dangerous," she pointed out. "But if they support us, give us a safe place to stay at least until the war is over…isn't that what we really need right now? And more than that, I don't want you to reject your family for our sake. When we are married, they'll be my family, too."
"Married?" Arya's eyes bulged.
Jon didn't let his gaze leave Dany's for some time. He was silent, searching and thinking hard about everything they'd learned.
Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded.
"Then we'll answer the call," he decided. "We're going to Winterfell."
Notes:
Long chapter and I know there's a lot we haven't yet gotten to, but there's a lot I intend to cover in the next two or three.
Look forward to more!