Daenerys
Daenerys awoke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed, and significantly better than she had the previous day.
"Never again," she mumbled as she rolled over onto her back.
As if you wouldn't do it all again.
She smiled at the thought. Though the previous day had been miserable, she had had so much fun meeting Jacen's friends. In all of her years lusting after the Iron Throne, she never would have thought that she would have the most fun with people who didn't treat her like a queen.
She sat up on her elbows and looked around her chambers. It was well past dawn, and Lenna had already come and gone. She looked at her bedside table and saw a large plate piled high with scrambled eggs, toast, and an assortment of different meats sitting next to a glass of water. She felt her stomach rumble, as she had hardly eaten the day before, and she found herself wishing that she hadn't eaten all of her dragon fruit in the bath.
Thinking about the dragon fruit brought back memories of the previous day — Jacen taking care of her, falling asleep in his arms, and the look in his eyes when he had found out that she hadn't told Tyrion about their relationship. A look that she hoped to never see again.
If he even wants to be with me after this.
She pushed away the thought and sat up in her bed. She crossed her legs under her and let the comforter fall into her lap as she reached for the plate on her bedside table. She moved it to sit in front of her on the bed and picked up the fork, thinking carefully about where to begin.
She stabbed a small sausage and ate it in one bite as she stared around her chambers, enjoying the brief moment of solitude before a looming council meeting took up the rest of her afternoon. She dreaded this council meeting more than she had any other in the past. In fact, lately she dreaded every council meeting more than the last. The uprising in Dorne had become a disaster waiting to happen, and it had recently become a possibility that she would wake up one morning and find out that Doran Martell had been killed and the Dornish rebels were preparing to march on King's Landing. The thought of another war made Daenerys nauseous all over again, and she took a bite from the large pile of scrambled eggs and chased it with a sip of water.
After the council meeting, she planned to go into the city and find Jacen. She found herself both excited and nervous — excited to see him again, but nervous of what he might say to her. If he would even want to talk to her at all. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hurt look in his disarming green eyes, a look born of broken trust. A look that broke her heart.
She was roused from her thoughts by a knock at her door.
"Yes?" She called before she realized what she was wearing.
The door opened and a young man poked his head inside. A servant whom she didn't recognize. Upon seeing her, in her nightclothes, hair a mess, and a fork halfway to her mouth, he immediately withdrew his head and slammed the door.
"My apologies, Your Grace," he sounded frantic. "Visitor for you outside, Your Grace."
Terrified… He must be new.
"Who is it?" Daenerys asked, surprised.
"A young woman named Alex, Your Grace. Someone you may know?"
Oh, damn it all, she groaned inwardly. I should've known.
"I do," Daenerys nodded, as if he could see her through the door. "Send her up, if you would."
"At once, Your Grace," he responded before his brisk footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
Just what I need. She set down the fork on the plate she had barely had a chance to touch and pushed a hand through her hair. She wouldn't have come unannounced if she just wanted to visit and get to know me.
She swung her feet off of the bed and rose to walk quickly to her closet. She withdrew a loose shirt and her softest pair of pants and quickly changed before returning to her bed.
May as well get comfortable. She saw me drunk, so no point in trying to keep up appearances.
She sighed and stabbed another sausage, but her appetite had suddenly left her. She felt like she might throw it all back up when another knock came at the door.
"Yes?" She forced herself to take a small bite from the sausage.
The door opened and the young woman stepped inside. She gave a small bow, much to Daenerys's surprise
"Are you busy?" She asked.
"No more than usual," Daenerys smiled and gestured to the unruly bed. "Come in." She nodded to a nearby armchair.
"Anything I can get you ladies, Your Grace?" The young man asked.
"No, thank you… Are you new, by chance?" She asked.
The blood drained from the young man's face as he took another step into the room.
"I am, Your Grace," he forced a nervous smile. "My sincerest apologies for not introducing myself, Your Grace. This is only my second day… Your Grace."
"Quite alright," Daenerys smiled. "And your name?"
"Ryden, Your Grace," he said quickly. "Ryden Manning, Your Grace."
"Well, thank you, Ryden," she smiled and nodded, "and don't feel the need to bow to me when we're alone like this."
"Of course, Your Grace. My apologies, Your Grace," he caught himself before he could bow again. "Good day to you, ladies." He nodded and disappeared before Daenerys could respond. It surprised her that he hadn't waited for her to formally dismiss him.
"A nervous one," Alex remarked.
"The new ones always are," Daenerys smiled and turned to her. "Do you mind if I continue?" She gestured to the plate as Alex took the proffered armchair.
"Hardly the most regal thing I've ever seen," Alex gave an amused smile.
"You should've seen my yesterday," Daenerys scooped up as much of the scrambled eggs as she could manage onto a fork. "Can I offer you something to drink?"
She held up a hand and gave a grateful smile. "Appreciate the thought, but no. I have to get back to work within the hour."
"Very well," Daenerys said as she started for another fork full of eggs. "This is an unexpected surprise. What brings you here?"
"I was hoping to talk to you about the discussion that you and Jacen had yesterday."
Daenerys nodded as she swallowed the eggs. "Is he okay? He didn't seem like himself when he left."
That's an understatement…
"That's what this is about," Alex adjusted herself in the armchair and crossed one leg over the other. "There are some things that you should know about him if you're planning to stay with him."
Daenerys nodded for her to continue.
"Jacen is… different. Especially when it comes to expressing his feelings. He hasn't had an easy life, and it's left him with a lot of trust issues. In recent years he's closed himself off even more."
"What could have caused that?" She sliced a piece of ham in half with the side of her fork and brought it up to her mouth, more to occupy her hands than anything else.
Alex shook her head. "I can't say for sure. Maybe it was something he wants to keep to himself, or maybe it's nothing at all. Regardless, I say all of that to say this: the way you've broken down his walls, as little progress as you may think you've made, is astonishing to see. He's a different man now than he was even a few months ago, and that's all because of you."
Daenerys felt herself blushing as she allowed herself a humble smile. "I wish I could tell him how much he's done for me."
Alex returned her smile. "But in spite of that, what you said really did hurt him, and he felt like it was a violation of his trust. Like I said, trust is a fragile thing for him, and it's something that isn't given lightly."
"I know I did," Daenerys nodded. "I tried to apologize and get him to tell me how he felt, but he just… shut down."
"That's not completely your fault," Alex responded, and Daenerys noted her use of the word completely. "He's always been like that, and he hasn't become better with age. He hates conflict, especially with people he… cares about."
Loves, Daenerys amended.
"What can I do to make it right?" Daenerys asked. "Name it."
"I want to ask you something first. With all due respect, as friends."
Daenerys nodded again.
"How committed are you to him? Honestly. Because if you aren't committed, you need to let this go and walk away now."
Daenerys paused. The question hit her like a punch to the chest, though she should have seen it coming.
"The only thing I've been more committed to is ruling Westeros."
"Well, he doesn't feel that way. He thinks that you're trying to hide him from your council like he's a mistress. He thinks you don't care about him as much as you say you do."
"That's not at all—"
"I know," Alex held up a hand, "and I don't mean to imply that you're that type of person, because I don't think you are, but that's what he thinks. He can be a bit… irrational at times. He gets too far inside his own head and makes things worse than they actually are."
"No," Daenerys shook her head. "He has every right to feel that way. The way he opened up to me when I spent the night with him, and the trust that grew between us… I feel that I betrayed that."
Alex nodded. "That's how he feels.
"I care about him more than I can say," she said, still unable to bring herself to say that word that she feared so much, "and I'll do anything to make it up to him."
"I'm glad to hear that," Alex smiled. "Just be genuine, assure him that you'll do better, and show it through your actions. He wants to forgive you, I promise. You just have to give him a reason to, and make sure he knows that he'll have to learn to trust you if he wants this to work out. Maybe hearing it from you will do more than hearing it from me."
Daenerys returned her smile. "Do you think it would be okay to talk to him today?"
"Of course," Alex nodded. "He'll be at the forges all day, but he should be home tonight if you'd like to stop by then."
"Then I'll be sure to do that," Daenerys stabbed the remainder of the previously cut piece of ham and raised it to her mouth.
"Good," Alex smiled. "Shall I leave you to it, then?"
Daenerys shrugged her shoulders. "I have a council meeting in less than an hour, but my schedule is open until then."
"That's commoner speak for 'I'm going to leave now,'" She smiled as she rose from the armchair. "You'll catch on soon enough, Your Grace."
Daenerys just chuckled and set her fork down. Alex held up a hand. "I'll see myself out, thanks."
Daenerys nodded, secretly grateful, and smiled. "Thank you for coming by, then. I appreciate the insight and the kind words."
"Not a problem," Alex walked over to the door and pulled it open. "Best of luck tonight, and until next time."
Daenerys watched as she closed the door behind her and immediately returned to her breakfast.
That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, she thought as she chewed on a rather large mouthful of scrambled eggs. She seems to want the best for both of us, which is more than can be said for the vast majority of people I surround myself with.
She cleaned the remainder of her plate in short order, forcing Jacen from her mind and taking the time to shift her mindset into one more capable of dealing in the nuances of politics. She set the empty plate on her bedside table and swung her feet out of bed to get dressed for what would undoubtedly be a very long day.
"Ser Davos, a moment?" Daenerys stopped the Master of Ships as he followed the remainder of her small council out of the council chambers after a shockingly short and uneventful council meeting.
"Your Grace," he turned to her and inclined his head as she rose from her chair at the head of the table.
"Would you mind taking me for a tour of the shipyards if you have this afternoon free? I would see this fleet you seem so proud of."
Davos smiled. "I'd be happy to, Your Grace. Any particular reason?"
Daenerys shook her head. "I'd just like to see what we'll be deploying if the situation with the Dornish escalates."
If a war breaks out, you mean?
"A wise request, Your Grace," he gave a small bow. "I'm free right now if you'd like."
"I would," Daenerys gave him a grateful smile and gestured to the door. "Lead the way."
Daenerys walked with Davos down to the shipyards of King's Landing, where a new fleet was being constructed by the ironborn. Her own ships had taken heavy losses after a surprise attack by Euron Greyjoy shortly after her arrival in Westeros, and Yara Greyjoy had insisted that the ironborn replenish her fleet after she took the Iron Throne. In exchange for this and for the support of both herself and her brother before Daenerys had even set sail for Westeros, she had allowed them to take Euron Greyjoy as their own prisoner and do with him as they wished. Daenerys had never dared to inquire about his fate after he was pulled from the waters of Blackwater Bay following the destruction of his fleet by her dragons, but she couldn't imagine that the reunion had been a happy one.
"The ships are a sight to behold, Your Grace," he said as they approached the docks, growing more animated, "and I know that you will not be disappointed."
"Let's hope so," Daenerys responded, amused at how his tone always seemed to change when talking about the latest updates on their new fleet.
Davos began to walk more quickly as they drew closer to the docks. Daenerys marveled at the towering ships scattered throughout Blackwater Bay, all in varying stages of construction. She had seen them from the Red Keep on many occasions, but it had been too long since she had been down to the docks to see them for herself.
As they walked among the large vessels, Davos gestured proudly towards the sleek, newly designed ships. "Your Grace, allow me to introduce you to our latest additions to the fleet," he said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "These ships boast several improvements over our previous models. They're constructed using the finest materials available, ensuring sturdiness and durability in the face of even the fiercest storms."
Daenerys nodded approvingly, her eyes scanning the ships' designs. "And what about their armaments? Are they more formidable than our old fleet?"
"Indeed, they are," Davos replied. "These ships are equipped with the latest in naval weaponry. We've installed catapults and ballistae capable of launching projectiles with greater accuracy and force, providing us with a considerable advantage in naval engagements. Not to mention that we have done so without significant sacrifices to crew and soldier capacity limits."
Daenerys nodded, impressed by the advancements. "And what of their speed and maneuverability? Can they outmaneuver our enemies at sea?"
"With ease, Your Grace," Davos affirmed. "We've made significant improvements to the hull designs, reducing drag and increasing their speed. Combined with skilled crews trained in the latest naval tactics, these ships will be able to outmaneuver any foe that dares to challenge us on the open water."
Daenerys smiled in spite of the worries that ate at the back of her mind. "It sounds like our fleet is a force to be reckoned with, Ser Davos."
Davos nodded, a pleased expression on his weathered face. "Aye, Your Grace. A force to be reckoned with, indeed."
Daenerys continued to listen intently as Davos led her up and down the lines of ships, explaining in great detail their specifications and the improvements that had been made compared to her old fleet. Daenerys struggled to follow at times, her knowledge of ships and the sea vastly dwarfed by Davos's decades of knowledge and experience, but she did her best to keep up and ask questions.
"Do you have a moment, Ser Davos?" Daenerys asked as they came to the end of their large loop around the docks. "Alone?" She gestured to a small pavilion with a table situated beneath it.
"Of course, Your Grace," he nodded, and the pair started towards the table.
"Davos," Daenerys began as they both settled into chairs across from each other. "I have some questions for you. Answer me as Daenerys, not as your queen."
"Is this why you asked me for this tour?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Partially, yes," she admitted with a small smile.
"Respectfully, I'm hardly an advisor in the realm of politics, Your Grace," Davos held up his hands. "I'm not sure how much help I can be."
"A great help, in fact. Humor me."
Davos nodded for her to continue, but she could almost hear his internal groan. She had come to realize over the past two years that Ser Davos Seaworth was a man of action, with little concern for political intrigue and machinations.
"What do you think of the situation with the Dornish? Between us."
"Well, Your Grace—"
"Daenerys."
Davos gave a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement. "Well, Daenerys, the Dornish have always been a fiercely independent people, almost to a fault. Even Aegon the Conqueror couldn't break them, as I'm sure you well know."
"I do," Daenerys nodded.
"And, I mean no offense, but you are a Targaryen. Their hatred for you is unjustified and unfounded, but not unexpected."
Daenerys nodded her agreement, her brow furrowed in concern.
"I have tried to be fair and just in my rule, but still they aren't content. Is it possible that I haven't done enough to understand and address their grievances?"
"I don't think so," Davos shook his head. "Ruling a kingdom as vast and diverse as Westeros is no easy task. There will always be challenges and discontent, and you can never satisfy everyone at once. Regardless, you have met their dislike and distrust with compassion, which is more than many rulers can claim."
"I've tried to," Daenerys nodded, "but have I truly done all that I can? Have I even done the bare minimum?"
Davos leaned forward. "I was alive during the reign of the Mad King. I was a smuggler for my entire life, and I lived among some of the most downtrodden people in Westeros. Can I share something that I've learned?"
Daenerys nodded for him to continue.
"You'll never do enough," he said. "No matter how compassionate you are, no matter how generous you are, and no matter how many of their demands you grant. They hate you because of your name, not because of you or your abilities as a ruler. You will never fully win them over, not until the people who hated your father and brother die and their children and grandchildren come to see just how irrational that hatred is."
If nothing else, she could always depend on Ser Davos Seaworth to not mince words. She often wondered if it was a quality that he had developed while serving Stannis Baratheon. She had never found the nerve to ask him about it, as she had always gotten the impression that his final memories of his old king were less than fond.
"So you're saying that I can't avoid a rebellion…"
"Not quite," Davos shook his head. "What I'm saying is that, in the event of a rebellion, there will not be a peaceful resolution. War will break out, and you'll have to decide what type of ruler you want to be."
"Do you think that's likely to happen?"
"I do," Davos nodded. "It's only a matter of time. Doran Martell is holding them together, but he isn't a young man, and he isn't in the best of health. When he dies, we will all have some very difficult decisions to make."
"How soon do you think that would be?" Daenerys pressed, wondering if she sounded like a fearful child, desperate for a comforting answer. Any comforting answer.
"Not for some time, I think. To my knowledge, Prince Doran maintains the respect of the vast majority of the Dornish. With him in power, we can at least be assured that we'll have ample warning in the event that something were to ignite. He swore himself and the entirety of Dorne to you two years ago, and he isn't the type of man to go back on such a promise."
Daenerys sat back in her chair and heaved a sigh, Davos's words offering little consolation.
"I don't know what to do," she said quietly. "I have no idea. Nobody seems to."
"Are you scared?" Davos asked.
Daenerys looked up at him and forced herself to meet his eyes. She gave a small nod and immediately looked away, wishing that she had decided to have this conversation in a more private place.
Davos smiled. "Then you'll do what's right. They remember well what happened when the people rose against your father. Prove that you meet rebellion differently, and you just might have a chance at winning some of their favor. Will it be enough to quell the rebellion altogether? Only time will tell."
Daenerys heaved another deep sigh and pushed a hand roughly through her hair, silently wishing that she believed him.
"Whatever happens, we'll handle it together," Davos said reassuringly. "You have a small council for a reason, you know."
She responded with a grateful smile, though she felt her mood slowly deflating.
"You still look troubled…" he said slowly.
"That's an understatement," Daenerys chuckled.
"I know it's hard," he said gently, "and I don't know if this relationship you've recently entered into makes matters any easier, but for what it's worth, you're doing exceptionally well."
"I'm glad someone thinks so."
"Oh, stop," Davos waved her away and stood up. "Let's get back to the Red Keep. You have enough on your plate, and I'm not going to sit here and allow you to start insulting yourself like that. You have no shortage of people all too willing to talk poorly about you, there's no need to add yourself to the mix."
Daenerys gave him a weary smile as she rose from her chair and fell into step next to him as they began the walk back to the Red Keep.
War will break out, and you'll have to decide what type of ruler you want to be… Davos's words echoed in her head.
Daenerys sat on the side of her bathtub, nibbling on one of the green cakes that Jacen had brought for her the previous day. She had planned to visit Jacen after her tour of the docks with Ser Davos, but their discussion had put her in a distinctly sour mood — a sour mood that only a blisteringly hot bath could soothe. When the self deprecating thoughts and insecurities rose to the surface, her only hope was to burn them away.
She dragged her bare feet across the rough floor of the bathtub, relishing the feel of the scalding water on her shins. She ate the remainder of the cake in one bite and slipped into the bathtub. The water sizzled as it came into contact with her skin, and she slowly sank deeper up to her neck, a contented smile escaping her lips. She adjusted her hair to run over the side of the bathtub away from the water and leaned her head back on the side of the bathtub.
You'll have to decide what type of ruler you want to be…
Davos had been of much more help than Tyrion would have been. Though she owed more than she could say to Tyrion, and she always valued his council above even her own judgment, Davos's experience far away from the royal court was often invaluable when it came to matters of politics. He had spent his life among the common people, and he knew their grievances well.
But still, despite his assurances and advice, too much uncertainty loomed for her liking. Her thoughts drifted back to a conversation in Meereen, when she was hopelessly naïve to the sins of her father. Even after what felt like decades, Ser Barristan's words echoed in her mind as if he were next to her speaking them this very moment.
He set their towns and castles aflame…
He murdered sons in front of their fathers…
He burned men alive with wildfire, and laughed as they screamed…
I am not my father, she had responded adamantly, and she had meant it, but still she wondered what she would do if she were faced with true rebellion by a group of people who wanted to see her dead, not just deposed.
They're lucky I'm not Viserys, she thought. Dorne would have been reduced to a charred wasteland long ago.
She wondered if the emergence of a rebellion would begin to push her over the edge — turning her into exactly what the people had expected her to be in the early days of her reign. She had always kept her emotions closely in check, ever wary of lingering feelings of paranoia or distrust, but she nevertheless found herself troubled that there were lords on her council that were born and raised in Dorne.
Varys would know about their betrayal in time for us to prepare, she so frequently assured herself.
But still, the paranoia lingered. It never consumed her or occupied her thoughts for more than a minute at a time, but it was always there in some form, tucked away in the back of her mind with all of her other insecurities and anxieties. Tyrion had assured her in the past that some degree of paranoia was warranted, even beneficial, but still she wondered if its presence was itself an omen for days to come.
She sighed and pushed a wet hand through her hair before reaching out to the plate sitting on the edge of the bathtub and taking another green cake. She ate the entire cake in one bite and settled back into the bathtub and closed her eyes, immensely grateful that she had nothing else scheduled for the day.
Except for visiting Jacen, of course.
Daenerys made the journey to Jacen's home alone and in silence as the sun began to dip below the horizon, feeling rejuvenated after a long bath. She walked with her hands in the pockets of her white coat, bundled tightly around her to fight off the evening chill. Ser Barristan had wanted to escort her, but she had refused. She didn't know how long this would take, and she wanted some time alone before she spoke to him.
You're making this out to be worse than it is, she told herself. You know that Jacen isn't an angry person. He'll be hurt, but he won't be angry. Alex said that he wants to forgive you.
You love him, and you know that he loves you… just be genuine.
She had been rehearsing exactly what she would say, but she knew that it was no use. As soon as he fixed her with those green eyes, she would forget it all. She would just have to speak exactly what she felt, and hope that he felt comfortable enough to do the same.
She turned onto the street that held Jacen's delightfully modest home. She doubted that he believed her when she had said that it felt like more of a home than the Red Keep, but she had meant it. Waking up in a room that didn't share a building with her council chambers and throne room had been a delightful change, and she had been secretly hoping that Jacen would invite her back.
Too quickly, she was standing in front of his door. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and knocked loudly. The hard wood made her knuckles throb, but she pushed away the dull pain.
The door opened seconds later, and Jacen appeared in the doorway. He had clearly been at the forges all day, and he hadn't had a chance to bathe. His clothes were dirty, his hair was spotted with soot, and his cheeks had a light black hue, but she still found him stunning.
"Hi…" He said.
"Hi," Daenerys smiled meekly.
A painful silence passed between them, both having so much to say but neither willing to start.
"If I'd known you were coming, I would have bathed and changed." He said casually as he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. As she passed by him, she smelled the distinct odor of soot, sweat, and burning metal radiating from him. The smell was almost as intoxicating as his shampoo had been. His house smelled strongly of a newly built fire crackling in the hearth, though without the distinct and familiar smell of food cooking nearby. Regardless, it felt like home.
"Oh, no need to go to that much trouble," Daenerys smiled and unbuttoned her coat. Jacen grabbed the shoulders of it and slipped it off of her.
Taking my coat… At least he doesn't seem angry.
"What brings you here?" He asked as he hung the coat on the coat rack by the door and gestured for her to take a seat on his couch.
"I was hoping we could talk," she began as she took the proffered seat. "About yesterday."
"Alex talked to you," he sighed and sat down heavily next to her. His smell wafted towards her all at once, and she felt her fingers start to tingle in response.
"She did," Daenerys gave him an apologetic look, fighting back the sudden pang of desire.
"Sorry about that," Jacen said, sounding slightly embarrassed. "She's always been overprotective of me."
"Don't apologize," she shook her head. "If anyone should be apologizing, it's me."
"Daenerys, I told you — I understand that your position is precarious here. It's fine."
"Don't lie to me, Jacen," she said, taking a tone that was both firm and gentle. "I want you to feel comfortable telling me these things. We can never work through it if you lie about it and say it doesn't bother you. I'm never going to get angry with you for telling me how you feel or what you need."
"Right…" He conceded sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I just didn't want to make a fuss, I suppose."
"Stop apologizing, Jacen," she said, being very careful not to sound angry or frustrated. "This is new territory for both of us, and relationships aren't always easy. This isn't our first setback, and it won't be the last. Now, tell me how I made you feel," she urged him gently, "and don't worry about hurting my feelings."
"Okay," Jacen nodded, still visibly uncomfortable despite her encouragement. "Like you said, I trusted you to do something that meant a lot to me, and you didn't do it. You could have told me how difficult it was for you, and I would have understood, but you didn't. You only told me how difficult it would be when we got caught by the one person you were scared of telling, and you never even told me why it was so difficult for you to tell him." He broke eye contact as soon as he finished, as if looking at her had been a nearly insurmountable task.
She put a hand under his chin and tilted his head up to look at her. "I know," she said, "and I'm more sorry than I can say. I just hope that we can move past this and you can learn to trust me again."
"Of course we can," Jacen gave a small smile. "Like you said, we're both new to this. Neither of us are going to be perfect, and we have to be willing to forgive each other."
Daenerys felt her heart soar at the sound of those words, but even still, she felt something remaining between them. Something that she couldn't quite place, but a definite lack of warmth.
"What else?" She asked. "I know there's something else."
"There is," Jacen nodded uncertainly. "I want to know why you were scared to tell Tyrion. It made me feel like a mistress, not like a partner."
The question she had dreaded him asking, but she suspected that he would. It was well within his right to know.
"I'm not sure if I even know why myself," she sighed. "I think I've just always known that us being together would be difficult, and I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to hear that it wouldn't work, and that we'd be doomed to fail."
A long pause passed between them as Daenerys steeled herself to say the words that had been on her mind for weeks.
"I love you," she smiled and met his eyes, "and that terrifies me."
"I love you, too," he smiled and reached out to put a hand on her knee.
A formerly insurmountable tension between them seemed to lift. She returned his smile and gently placed her own hand on top of his and squeezed it.
"What about it terrifies you?" Jacen asked.
"I've never felt this before," she responded. "Not in this way, at least. I've always been very sure of myself and independent, and I've always found it difficult to trust people. Vulnerability isn't something that comes easy to me."
"But when we spent the night together…"
"That was a unique situation. I can't explain it, but it just felt… right. I wasn't scared, and I wasn't unsure of myself. I was excited to share that moment with you. I wish I could make it make sense for you, but I really don't even understand it myself," she gave a small chuckle.
"You don't have to," Jacen gave her hand another squeeze. "As long as it's something that you're willing to work on together."
"Of course it is," She smiled and squeezed his hand in return.
"What else scares you?"
Daenerys considered this for a long moment and took a deep breath before responding. "I've been through a lot in my life. I've been sold, raped, betrayed, and nearly murdered on multiple occasions. I've lost friends and loved ones, and I've been betrayed by people I trusted more than anyone in the world. It's left me with scars that have never fully healed. I suppose I'm just terrified of losing you like I did them."
Or I feel like I don't deserve happiness in the first place…
"I'm not going anywhere, Daenerys," he said. "I promise."
He reached out and pulled her into a hug, and she felt tears brimming in her eyes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He didn't speak as he placed a hand on her back, but she knew that he could feel the tears on his neck.
She quickly pulled away before she broke down and gave him a grateful smile as she wiped away the brimming tears with the sleeve of her shirt and took another deep breath to compose herself. "That actually leads into something else that we need to talk about. Something difficult, but something that you need to understand."
Jacen nodded for her to continue, still firmly grasping her hand.
"There's something you should know about loving me… As you can probably imagine, it comes with its own set of challenges that the average relationship wouldn't have. The world I live in is not forgiving, and there are many who still dislike me, even despise me, and would give anything to see the Targaryen bloodline extinguished in light of my father's crimes. They would stop at nothing, and would even use our relationship against me. Use you against me."
"Daenerys, you know I would never do anything to hurt you."
"I know you wouldn't, but that wouldn't stop them from trying. You'll be scrutinized, judged, and some may never accept you as anything more than a commoner in the presence of a queen. Your life will change, and not completely for the better."
As she had expected, he would not be swayed. "I can handle it, Daenerys. I'm not afraid."
Daenerys gave a small, sad smile. "It's not just about courage, Jacen. It's about enduring the constant pressure and the isolation that may come. You'll face whispers and judgments from the court, from the people you'll rule, and perhaps even from your own friends. You may find yourself alone in this world, surrounded by people who view you with suspicion. The luxuries and freedoms you've taken for granted, even your job — they may all disappear."
Daenerys leaned forward and took his hand in her own. "Jacen, loving me means accepting a life of uncertainty, danger, and sacrifice. It means living in a world that's different from the one you've always known. It won't be easy, and I won't hold it against you if you choose to walk away."
"No," he shook his head immediately, not releasing her hand. "I won't."
"Jacen, this is a decision that shouldn't be taken lightly. There will be times when you'll question this choice, when you'll wonder if it's all worth it. It may tear us apart."
"Then, when that day comes, if it comes, we can talk about it then. I'm not—"
"Stop," Daenerys squeezed his hand again. "Sleep on it, and come to me with your answer when you've decided."
"I already know, Daenerys," he responded, somewhat testily.
"Then sleep on it anyways," she gave him a small smile. "Consider the possibilities. Consider everything you'll lose. If this is still something that you want to pursue, then we can move forward together. If not, I'll understand."
Despite his protests and the defiant look that remained on his face, he nodded his agreement, but Daenerys knew that his answer wouldn't change. No, Jacen Senneck had proven his commitment time and again, but she loved him enough that she would sacrifice their relationship for his happiness. She wouldn't force him into this life that she had chosen for herself. He would need to come of his own volition.
A long silence passed between them, and as they stared into each others' eyes, Daenerys felt a sudden undeniable pull towards him. A desire that was different from the desire she had felt when they had spent the night together. She released his hand and slowly slid closer to him. She reached for him as he leaned into her embrace at the same time, and she pressed her lips firmly to his.
He tasted of the forge, as if he had eaten soot for lunch earlier that day, but she didn't care. The taste of him alone made her head spin, and the feel of his hands as they moved up her body to the back of her neck drove all other thoughts and inhibitions from her mind. As she opened her mouth, allowing their tongues to meet, she found herself impressed by the significant progress he had made from the first kiss they shared. He had certainly not disappointed her that night, but the improvement was undeniable.
After several seconds, they both pulled away and let their hands drop.
"Better than last time?" Jacen asked.
"Very much so," she laughed as she felt her cheeks growing warmer.
Without warning, Jacen then reached for her and pulled her towards him and onto his lap. As soon as she touched him, Daenerys planted her hands on his chest and shoved him down onto the couch before climbing fully on top of him. His smell assaulted her full-on, and she drank it in as their lips crashed together and her hands found their way into his messy hair. She stifled a groan as his hands went to her lower back.
"Lower," she said into his mouth.
He moved his hands to rest on her backside, and she adjusted herself to kiss him more hungrily. She didn't realize that she was crushing him into the couch until he laughed and pushed her away.
"Slow down," he leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Don't you want me to bathe first?"
"I wasn't bothered by it."
Jacen laughed. "You must really want it."
More than anything at this moment.
"I suppose so," she forced a sheepish smile.
"You're a terrible liar, for a queen," he smiled and reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. His hand then went to the back of her neck and pulled her back down to kiss her deeply on the lips.
It's finally happening! She grabbed a fistful of his soot-stained hair to hold him there as she hungrily kissed him, and she felt his chest rumble beneath her with light laughter at her vigor.
She inched back to sit over his waist and felt him hardening underneath her. She gave him a sly smile, and he just shrugged his shoulders sheepishly in response before pulling her back down and capturing her lips in his once again. She snatched once at his shirt, a silent command to remove it, struggling to keep her tongue in his mouth.
Daenerys, lost in the heat of the moment, moved to take off her own shirt, her hands fumbling with the fabric as desire overtook her. In her clumsy haste, she lost her balance, and with a startled gasp, she slipped off of Jacen and tumbled to the floor. The unexpected fall sent her sprawling, her hair cascading around her as she landed with a painfully solid thud.
She stared up at the ceiling, the moment irreparably shattered, and swore loudly as she pounded a fist on the floor. Jacen looked over the side of the couch, a wide smile on his face.
"Strong language for a queen," he began to laugh.
"Stop laughing!" She reached out and shoved his head back, but the sound of his laugh forced her to join in as she sat up and ran a hand through her tousled hair.
"I think the gods are against us, Your Grace," he stood up and reached down and grabbed her on either side of her upper torso and hauled her to her feet. "First I'm the problem, now you."
Daenerys laughed in spite of the frustration that she felt settling in the pit of her stomach.
Tell me something I don't know...
She leaned forward, resting his head on his chest, and he put an arm around her.
"We'll make this happen," he said, and kissed her on the top of her head. "It just… hasn't yet."
"Trust me, I know it hasn't," she grumbled against his chest.
"Poor choice of words," Jacen conceded with a smile, "but the point stands."
They stood like that for some time, until Daenerys slowly pulled away and looked up at him. She smiled and fixed him with her most innocent gaze.
"Can I spend the night?" She asked.
Jacen laughed and kissed her on the forehead. He then pulled away and led her to the door, not responding.
Really?
He helped her into her jacket in silence, then pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily on the lips, the most assertive she had ever seen him. She leaned into the kiss, pressing her breasts firmly against him as he ran his hands down her back, then he pulled away. Daenerys's pulse was pounding in her ears as she stared up at him, close to begging him to throw her over his shoulder and carry her into his bedroom, but he fixed her with those disarmingly deep green eyes.
He leaned in close to her ear "Come back tomorrow evening," he whispered and nipped her ear before he opened the door and led her onto the porch, "and bring your own nightclothes this time."
Daenerys couldn't help but smile as she watched him close the door in her face.
BEHIND THE CHAPTER
This is the first chapter in this fic that came about completely in the moment. I decided when I was writing Chapter 9 that I really wanted a scene where Alex confronts Daenerys and then her and Jacen make up, and I really wanted that to be its own chapter. The scene with the new Royal Fleet was added as a spur of the moment thing when I was starting the chapter. The new fleet had been referenced a few times, so it's something that I really wanted to show. Plus, I just like Davos as a character and I feel like he adds a unique perspective to Daenerys's small council.
This was my first time writing a chapter that had some sort of significant relationship strife, so it's something I felt like I had to handle carefully and make sure that both of them said everything that they would want to say. I also wanted to end it on more of an emotionally charged note than give significant resolution to what has kind of been the looming "issue" over the past handful of chapters. Fear not, it's coming...