You Are The One

Chapter 7

It's been a day and half now since Drogon left her on Dragonstone without any way of getting back and no way of warning anyone about her disappearance. She can only dread and wonder just how frantic her council is.

Though, Brann is probably laughing his arse off...on the inside, anyway.

Since then, however, Jon has managed to find them enough food left behind from whatever they could carry when she left with Dani. Mostly the cheeses and breads and meats especially that people favour the least. There is plenty of water stocked up in tanks—in which Jon assured Dani would weigh too much for the ships and would also be abundant in a place like The North. And next to the tanks are various bottles of wine. All the ale has either been drunk or they'd taken it with them. (Mainly for how easily it can spoil.)

Aegon had brought the quilts and pillows from his chambers and placed them by the fireplace. Letting Jon make her own makeshift bed on the floor just beside his. Though, where Aegon had slept like a babe, Jon barely caught a wink with all of the nightmares flooding in.

She did wonder if the timing of her plentiful "dreams" had anything to do with Aegon. But when she'd turned to her side and stared at his peacefully sleeping face, she'd finally calmed herself enough to just relax until she actually caught that wink of sleep.

"I have to say I never believed in magic much, neither."

Jon agrees after he's told her that the only reason he ever paid any attention to religion or magic was because of the politics and his people's beliefs.

Which makes her wonder if she will have to start, at least, pretending that she's into all of it. Again, she doesn't like the lying aspect of that, but maybe she could chew on the inside of her cheek, while ignoring her twisted guts and just do it.

The Starks believed in both the New Gods and the Old Gods, and Lord Stark never forced her or tried to condition the way she thought. At least, not when it came to thinking for herself.

Aegon smirks around the rim of his wooden mug. "You think the dragons are magic?" He guesses that's what she's talking about. That that is where she first thought she saw such magic.

Then again, he knows little about Lady Snow, so, he's not at all surprised when she smirks smugly back and very calmly states, "No, I think the hundreds of thousands of walking dead men I both saw with my own two eyes and killed many of with my own sword, are magic."

"Oh." Aegon pauses, frowns slightly, huffs quietly and says, "So, that story was true, then."

He chuckles when Jon mutters to herself, "Only a lot."

"Oh, Lady Snow, I can see the two of us getting along like a straw house on fire." Aegon grins. He nudges her knee with his own before downing the rest of his wine.

Jon frowns softly to herself. Then, deciding that she needs to, at least, begin easing him into the truth here—"You know that 'Snow' is a bastard name?" She asks casually, but keeps her eyes zoned in for any minute reaction.

She assumes he knows he technically isn't the King now. So, he must assume what is implied. Someone else is ruling.

But if he were to stay?

And/or if the people were to want him back as their ruler?

Jon doesn't think she could agree to let him take over, even if she wanted to. And it's not so much her being forever remembered as running away from duties she promised to take on, but more of her not wanting to let anyone else in her life down.

She was a warrior before she was a queen. And warriors fight for their causes until the very end.

And as Jon keeps her eyes on him now, she knows that looks can be deceiving, but...well, he doesn't seem like he wants to kill her.

But if the people did want him over her, he technically has the stronger claim.

Aegon rolls his eyes, waves a hand of dismissal and says, "You're talking to a man who's entire lineage is made up of inbreeding. Trust me, Jon Snow, a name is just that. Death does not care what we call ourselves or each other—she still makes us all shit our draws, all the same. Rich or poor. Young or old. Stupid or smart. Evil or good." He shrugs, picks up the wine bottle on the floor between them and pours them both another.

"Besides," He adds with a sarcastic grin, "There's no bloody way I'm addressing you as 'Bastard' or 'Bastard Jon.' That is insanely rude."

She chuckles at his cute nose wrinkle. She's glad he thinks so, because he's the first of many to. Until the last few months of her life, there weren't many people who looked at her first and saw a bastard last.

And Jon then quickly finds herself smiling more at his awareness and understanding of life rather the actual words he says. He's a presence like no other's. And Jon has met so many great people, both good and bad.

She nods her thanks when he picks up her refilled cup and hands it to her. Tries to ignore the summersault of her stomach when their fingers brush—because she's pretty sure he did it on purpose this time.

Gods, she's the one who ended things with her aunt—which most likely did not add a good point to Dani's list of reasons to burn the entire world to the ground. And now, here Jon is already pining after her Gods knows how many great-greats grandfather just two fucking months after stabbing Dani through the heart.

Her...

Her grandfather...

Oh, fuck, she's going to be sick.

Jon manages to stand up smoothly enough as to not raise any suspicion or concern from Aegon. She pretends to stretch her legs for the moment, just pacing aimlessly around and pretending to take in the odd painting of either dragons or damned fruit scattered here and there.

She glances over her shoulder, lets out a silent breath of relief when she sees him lifting up the bottle of wine and eyeing the label with annoyance.

"This says Dornish Red, but I know Dornish Red." He lifts the bottle up to his face and squints at the label before scoffing. He glance at her with a look of outrage as he tells her, "Five percent?! They're taking the piss."

Despite her almost meltdown, Jon's lips crack for a small but amused smile.

She blows out a breath, turns to face him and he lowers the bottle and stares at her with concern when he finally notes her expression.

"I'm going to take a leap here and trust you." Jon begins, keeping her voice steady somehow. "Which means, I hope that you'll trust me enough to know that I'm no threat to you."

Aegon places the bottle down along with the cup, his eyes never leaving hers. "Well, that sounds ominous." His tone is low and soft, his lips tugging into a faint smile. Then, dropping just as quickly when she doesn't smile back this time.

He sighs. Nods and rises slowly from the window seat they were sharing to walk over to her. "I trust you, Jon Snow." He nods again, chuckles a little breathlessly and tells her, "I don't know how, but I feel like I have known you all my life."

This time, Jon cannot hide her quiet gulp from him. She didn't realise until he just said those words, but yes, it feels exactly that way for her, too.

Not even Ygritte had ever made her feel that way. With the stunning Wildling, Jon always felt the excitement of wanting to get to know more and more.

And with Dani, Jon was the one to submit to her Queen on every level. And clearly, Dani wanted to keep it that way with how threatened Jon knew she was, but tried to cover up by whispering words of greatness into Jon's ear, like she was one of her dragons. One of her weapons. (And even for all of that, Jon still would have followed her to the end.)

But with Aegon...

With Aegon, she just feels that beautiful and long awaited calm she's always craved to feel inside both her heart and soul.

"OK," Jon takes a deep breath and makes sure she's looking him in the eyes and not looking away like a coward as she tells him, "I haven't been lying to you, not once... But I haven't exactly been telling you the entire truth about who I am."

"OK..." Aegon says, slow and careful.

She had told him the basics, so far.

That she was raised by her uncle alongside her siblings. All of whom she loved dearly and still loves—all of her siblings but poor sweet Rickon and—Gods, it still hurts to think about him—Robb. (She hasn't gotten anywhere near to the parts of Ramsey, let alone her getting her little brother/cousin killed.) She'd left out Lady Catelyn for the sake of keeping more questions from arising. She'd even told him about Uncle Benjen and how close she was to him.

She'd told him all about the betrayal and the wars that involved her and her family and ended in her both her uncles' death. That for years, she didn't even know if she was the only one left of her family. That she'd never been so fucking happy to see Sansa (leaving out that she was on top of Ramsey and beating him to a bloody pulp), and then—as if one by one, the Gods sending them back to her—Brann and Arya coming home, too.

She'd told him a little more about Ygritte. And of course, Aegon was both sweet enough to ask the right kind of questions before letting her move swiftly on.

Most importantly—as for what she's told him, so far, anyway—she'd told him all about her time at The Wall and Castle Black. OK, almost all about her time there...

She doesn't even know how you would explain to anyone about what happened to her after her betrayal to The Watch and The Watch's swift return of tit-for-tat (with extra fucking cherries on top.) She still doesn't understand what happened after all of that with weird magic stuff Melisandre did to her corpse, and without stripping naked for him to see the proof, she doesn't think the headache of explaining it all over again is worth it.

But she trusts Aegon, oddly when she barely knows him (personally, anyway.)

She'll tell him everything.

But first, she needs to know if he is a threat now or will become one later down the line.

So, Jon stares into his eyes, keeps herself calm and says, "I know I haven't outright stated that I'm a bastard...because I'm not."

Aegon surprises her with a light chuckle. "Shocking." He quips with a cheeky smirk.

"Why isn't it shocking?" Jon scowls. Takes a step back. Folds her arms over her chest.

Aegon scoffs out a laugh, mirroring her stance before pointing a finger between the two of them and telling her, "The way you hold yourself. You either had a strict Maester as a child or you do it for others. Either way, bastards tend not to give a shit what people think of them and they definitely can't afford a Maester who gives enough of a shit either."

Jon huffs and just knows she's proving his point when can't help but letting him know: "It was the first one."

Aegon chuckles.

Jon fights back a stupid smile. Huffing again instead and letting her arms fall loose at her sides. She ignores his grin at the less than subtle defiant movement.

"As I was saying," She gives him a pointed look and he holds up a hand over his heart; silently promises to not interrupted her again. She ignores the tug of her heart at such a little thing and focuses more of the nerves rising in her gut and says, "My real mother was a Stark. The uncle that raised me—she was his little sister. Lord Stark was the oldest after his other brother died."

Aegon can see that clearly with her beautiful raven black hair and those dark piercing chocolate eyes of hers. That strong but elegant brow, the symmetrical face, the small button nose made for keeping the cold away. That pale as creamy snow skin and those lovely dainty high cheekbones.

She was made to command the ice. To steer it away from her and rain it down on all of her enemies who'd dare come within sword's reach of her.

When he nods and stays silent for her to go on (as he promised with a hand over his heart), Jon gulps quietly for a whole different reason, this time, as she then, says the next words to him: "And my father... Well, I very recently found out that he was a Targaryen."

Jon told him of King Robert's rebellion, including who fought who for what reasons. So, she's very careful not to say just yet what her father's name is.

And it's not like Aegon would know Rheagar personally, anyway.

Aegon surprises her by not at all looking surprised. Instead, his face practically lights up with pride as he hisses, "I knew it." He smiles when her lovely face takes on an adorable pout. He doesn't think she's aware, which makes her even more adorable.

Jon scowls, folds her arms over her chest again and sternly asks, "How?"

Aegon chuckles. "Well, first and foremost, you have a bloody fire-breathing dragon."

He chuckles again when she opens her mouth to protest.

He holds up a hand a nods and says, "Yes, yes, he's not your dragon." He rolls his eyes, grins and tells her, "Except...he is, little beastie. He has chosen you. They do that sometimes."

Jon flushes when he leans closer and adds in a low purr of a voice, "But only if you're extraordinarily fucking special."

'Extraordinarily' not just 'very.'

Gods, she's pathetic.

She doesn't even know why it matters.

"And for the...particular history you already have with him,"

Aegon leans a little closer until his eyes are level with hers and he's breathing in the same air space as her. Lips inches apart from hers and his heart straining with every heavy beat as she stares ever calmly back at him.

"And yet, he still wants you. He could have chosen to retire humans altogether. Could have lived wherever and however he wanted now that us Targaryens are practically wiped out. But he chose you..."

Whatever he was going to say next, Jon quite literally sees it fall from his gaze as his eyes soften and lock onto the top of her face. She doesn't know what she's doing, even after telling him that she's a Targaryen, but he doesn't seem to care either as he lifts a hand to her face and brushes his fingertips up her left cheek to her eyebrow and up over her forehead. And Jon is leaning in the slightest bit, even has her eyes fluttering shut as she sinks an inch into his touch.

Her dark eyes fly open and he sucks in a quiet silent breath before whispering, "Who gave you this?" His jaw tightens and a new kind of flare burns his gaze, one of anger.

Jon cracks a tiny amused smile as she says, "A big bird."

Aegon's expression snaps into one of surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting that. He cracks a tiny smile, too, chuckles quietly as he pulls his hand back to his side. "A big bird?"

Jon nods. Smile slowly receding as she tells him, "Ygritte and her Wildling friends wanted me to prove my loyalty by killing an innocent farmer and I couldn't do it, so, they tried to kill me instead and one of their Wargs used an eagle to try to claw my face off."

She chuckles, unable to help it with that too sweet look of horrified shock on his face. Such an expressive face. She smiles as she tells him, "I made it out."

Aegon puffs out a laugh, while shaking his head. "No? Really?"

Jon smirks at his tone; more humouring than mocking her.

"Anyway," She says with a small shrug, "It's not the worst scar I've got."

Slowly, she thinks, ease him into her murder and those other fucked up parts of her life slowly...

Aegon doesn't like the sound of that. Not one bit.

Who has scarred her??

He wants the names of every single fucking person who thought they could touch her. Who thought they were even worthy of laying their eyes upon her.

But of course, his magnificent little beastie is still standing. Standing here and talking to him.

Which can possibly only mean that she vanquished her enemies herself. Because of course she did.

He'd recognise a true warrior's stance from a mile away. Not as poised as a Knight's, but even more determined.

Just like hers.

Aegon isn't helping himself here when he adds to the sudden arousal of the thought of her standing on a pile of corpses with not a perfect raven hair out of place and a fierce look in her eyes. But he's already accepted that he was doomed from the moment he laid eyes on her.

Which is why he has no problem grinning as charmingly as he can as he says, "Well, My Lady, maybe if we get to know each other a little better—I'll show you all of mine if you show me all of yours."

He grins broadly when she chuckles. Gently grasp her hand in both of his own after she playfully shoves at his chest. He lifts it up to his lips to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

Jon arcs a brow up at him—she's not the shortest for a woman, though, she is shorter than most men (and Sansa, for some annoying reason), but Aegon towers over her like even Tormund doesn't. She doesn't pull her hand away, but she's sternly playful when she says, "I see the Targaryens reputation proceeds them."

A slow but fully cheeky grin spreads across Aegon's lips. His eyes twinkle with amusement and Jon is simply too glad that she hasn't offended him for her to care about his next words. "If you think about it, all of the first men and women surely had to have been...a close family."

Jon chuckles. Then, narrows her eyes a little and says, "You don't even know who I really am I to you."

"Well, you're not my daughter or my granddaughter, so, it doesn't matter." Aegon says with a shrug and a huge dramatic sigh of relief.

Jon laughs, gently pulls her hand from his. Rolls her eyes when he pouts dramatically. Tells him, "I'm actually—"

Going to actually shit her draws if dragons keep coming for her with the same enthusiasm as the way they fucking leave her on almost entirely abandoned islands.

Drogon.

His screech makes her startle and her eyes widen as she realises she can feel the vibrations of the sound through the thick stone walls of the Drum.

Unlike Aegon, who doesn't even flinch. Just tilts his head up as if listening for more.

Though, Jon does take a moment to admire the gentle smile lighting up his pretty face.

As if on cue, Drogon lets out another screech. This one louder and more impatient sounding.

And making Jon wince.

Clearly, he's asking her to get her arse outside to meet him and hurry the fuck up about it.

Which is just rude considering.

Aegon smirks as he eyes her with a tilt of his head. "I don't believe you're truly afraid of him. So, what is it?" He really is so very intrigued to know.

To know everything about her, really.

Jon huffs as she tells him, "Some time very soon, I will tell you all about how much I've already cheated death. But for, I think it best not to tempt her." She bites her tongue to stop the word again from ending her sentence and makes her way over to the balcony.

Aegon could not be more invested as he follows after her.