Hi everyone, I just wanted to note that nothing has changed thus far, but I have been sticking to the show plot for the first few chapters. I just wanted to start at the beginning of Dany meeting Jon, and have their relationship progress from there. Thank you to everyone who read or followed this story. Okay bye.
Varys stood in front of his queen, hands stuffed deeply in his pockets so they could not betray his nervousness, and began.
"Our Ironborn and Dornish allies were attacked en-route to Dorne. Two or three ships escaped, the rest sunk or captured. Ellaria and the Sand Snakes, dead, drowned or captured. The Greyjoys, dead, drowned or captured."
"All of them?" Daenerys asked incredulously. Varys nodded, and was immediately dismissed. Daenerys sat down heavily, and massaged her temples tiredly. She couldn't help thinking of Jon Snow. Despite his.. refusal to bend the knee, he was quite attractive, she supposed. She couldn't help this warm glow that spread over her, and she almost smiled, before remembering the tragedy that had recently befallen her fleet of ships.
Jon Snow stood on the edge of a cliff, and looked out over the sea. His ship was no longer docked in the cove that he had last seen it, and even though he had been assured he was not a prisoner, it didn't feel like it. It didn't help that the ocean matched Daenerys's eyes exactly, the calm water, with an occasionally vicious wave. He contemplated his options, but he knew that in order to keep his North alive, he had to somehow enlist Daenerys's help. He heard small, soft footsteps behind him, and Lord Tyrion stood next to him, a neutral expression on his face. He didn't say anything, but looked at Jon, who had to admit he must look a bit impressive, his black cloak flowing magnificently in the wind, the soft fur on his collar sparkling in the sun.
"I came down here to brood over my failure to predict the Greyjoy attack." Tyrion turned to look at him. "You're making it rather difficult. You look a lot better brooding than I do. You're making me feel like I'm failing at brooding at failing."
"I'm a prisoner on this island." Jon Snow spoke for the first time, and his tone was slightly more sulky than he had planned.
"I wouldn't say you're a prisoner on this island. You're free to walk the castle, the beaches, to go wherever you want."
"Except to my ship. You took my ship." Jon Snow argued.
"I wouldn't say we took your ship."
"I'm not playing word games with you." Jon snapped. "The dead are coming for us all."
"Why don't you figure out what to do about my missing fleet and murdered allies," proposed Tyrion. "And I'll figure out what to do about your walking dead men."
"It's hard for me to fathom, it really is. If someone told me about the White Walkers, and the Night King.. You probably don't believe me." said Jon exasperatedly.
"I do, actually." Tyrion replied.
"You didn't before." Jon spoke in an accusing tone. "Grumkins and snarks, you called them. Do you remember? You said it was all nonsense."
"It was nonsense at the time. Everyone knew that. But then Mormont saw them. And you saw them. And I trust the eyes of an honest man more than what everybody knows."
"How do I convince people who don't know me, that an enemy that they don't believe in is coming to kill them all?"
"Good question." said Tyrion.
"I know it's a good question." Jon agreed. "I need a good answer."
"People's minds aren't made for problems that large," explained Tyrion. White Walkers, the Night King, the Army of the Dead... it's almost a relief to confront familiar monsters like my sister."
"I need to help my people prepare for what's coming. I can't help them from here. I'd like to leave."
Tyrion sighed. "It seems unlikely that you became King in the North by giving up that easily.
"Everyone told me to learn from my father's mistakes. Don't go south. Don't answer a summons from the Mad King's daughter, a foreign invader. And here I am, a Northern fool."
"Children are not their fathers, luckily for all of us. And sometime there can be more to foreign invaders and Northern fools than meets the eye. Daenerys could have sailed for Westeros long ago, but she didn't. Instead she stayed there, and saved many people from many horrible fates, some of whom are on this island right now. While you're our guest here, you might consider asking them what they think of the Mad King's daughter. She protects people from monsters, just as you do. It's why she came here. And she's not about to head North to fight an enemy she's never seen on the word of a man she doesn't know. After a single meeting, it's not a reasonable thing to ask." Jon stared at Tyrion, and began to walk off. "So, do you have anything reasonable to ask?
"Seriously?" Daenerys gestured out of the windows of the makeshift Small Council meeting room. "We just lost two of our allies."
"Which is why I was speaking to Jon Snow, a potential ally." answered Tyrion.
"And what does the King in the North want with dragonglass?" questioned Daenerys.
"Apparently it can be turned into weapons that kill White Walkers. Or stop them. Destroy them. Unsure about the nomenclature,".
"And what do you think about this Army of the Dead, White Walkers, and Night Kings?" Daenerys spoke the words as an object of impossibility, a ridiculous notion that would surely only occur to a madman.
"I'd very much like to believe that Jon Snow is wrong. But a wise man once said that you should never dismiss something just because you don't want to believe it."
Daenerys walked slowly around the jagged edges of the table. "Which wise man said this?"
Tyrion bowed his head. "I don't remember."
"Are you trying to present your own statements as ancient wisdom?"
"I would never do that." Daenerys waited. "To you. The reason I believe Jon Snow, because he's here. All of his advisors would have told him not to come. I would have told him not to come. But he came anyway. You don't have to believe him." persuaded Tyrion. "Let him mine the dragonglass. If he's wrong, it's worthless anyway. You didn't even know it was here. It's nothing to you. Give him something, by giving him nothing. Take a step towards a more productive relationship with a potential ally. Keep him occupied while we focus on the task at hand. Casterly Rock."
"What was that Ser Davos said about 'taking a a knife in his heart for him people?', Did you notice that?", contemplated Daenerys, implying she hadn't been listening to Tyrion, even though she had.
"Oh, allow them their flights of fancy. It's dreary up in the North," Tyrion said dismissively.
Daenerys stood on the winding stone steps, at a railing pushed forward to form an outdoor balcony of sorts. Her hands held the stone wall, and she watched Viserion and Rhaegal flying among the clouds of spun cotton.
Jon watched her from the top of the stairs, her hair elaborately braided in a new updo as usual, in a glittering black warrior gown.
"Amazing thing to see," he remarked on the dragons, making her aware of his presence. As he reached the waist-high wall, she turned, and he could see her dress clearly. It had a high collar than hugged her pale neck, and seemed like an overcoat that parted in the front at the waist to introduce a thinner black petticoat. The shoulders were sharply raised, and a silver brooch was pinned at her collarbone. He couldn't stop looking at her eyes, so blue and icy and fiery at the same time.
"I named them for my brothers; Viserys, and Rhaegar. They're both gone now. You lost two brothers as well." Jon nodded. "People thought dragons were gone forever, but here they are. Perhaps we should be examining what we think we know." Jon understood why she was attempting to smooth things over.
"You've been talking to Tyrion." It wasn't a question.
"Well, he is my hand." Daenerys justified.
"He enjoys talking."
"We all enjoy what we're good at."
"I don't." replied Jon sombrely. At such a small distance, Daenerys could really see Jon Snow. She saw his curly black hair, the silver stark eyes, that fixed her with such an intense gaze. His hand was sitting idle on the stone wall, and she couldn't help but imagine that hand, flying down her jaw as he leaned into her. She chastised herself mentally, before returning to the conversation.
"You know I'm not going to let Cersei sit on the Iron Throne." she said.
"I never expected you would." Jon agreed.
"And I still haven't changed my mind on which kingdoms belong to that throne." Daenerys raised her head stubbornly.
"I haven't either."
Ugh. She looked away, thinking.
"I will allow you to mine and make weapons from the dragonglass," Daenerys looked back at him. "Any resources or men you need, I will provide for you." Jon waited for the conditions, but when none came, he looked doubtfully at her.
"Thank you." He turned to leave, but hung back. "So you believe me then? About the Night King and the Army of the Dead?"
"You had better get to work, Jon Snow." Daenerys replied evasively, having turned back to her dragons, as mysterious as ever. He nodded, and walked back up the stone steps to the castle. As he left however, Daenerys couldn't resist looking at him, watching his back walking away from her, retreating to the castle.