You Are The One

Chapter 9

"OK—you stay here. I'll...ease them into it and—"

"What??" Aegon's eyes widen in alarm.

He shuffles quickly after her as she makes her way across the chamber of the Stone Drum with his sword now strapped to her back. He almost pokes his own eye out with the pommel in his haste to ask, "You mean to say you're going to tell them about me??"

Jon stops at the top step and turns to face him. She pauses, thinks about it, then, slowly nods and says, "Yes."

Aegon's eyes widen even more, though, just for a second before he is frowning and telling her, "Your Grace, that really is not a good idea."

Jon scowls back, pointedly tells him, "I don't like lying. Especially to people who are supposed to trust me..." She pauses again, realises: "Which is everyone now that I'm the Queen." She wrinkles her nose up at him and adds, "And please, just call me 'Jon.'"

It's not as if anyone else will dare anymore.

Not even Samwell. Though, Tyrion is the exception. And her siblings are all back in Winterfell—or in Arya's case, somewhere west of Westeros by now.

Aegon gives her a soft and understanding smile, but tells her, "As you wish, Jon. But please do not ask me to do so unless it is just the two of us." With a sheepish grin, he adds, "And my Queen, I must beg you not to...reveal me. At least, not so...boldly."

Jon sighs, nods as she takes a step back and leans her hip against the wall. She eyes him curiously for a moment, then, asks, "What do you propose?"

When he stays silent with a thoughtful look on his face, Jon adds, "If I go back with my people, I can't leave you here alone with good conscious. And if you're right about Drogon—which, I think you are, considering King's Landing is also where I killed his mother, not to even mention taking him back to The North to freeze or starve—well, that means I'll be moving people here, if I don't end up moving here myself, which also means that someone will eventually see you."

"Your lack of faith in my skills of stealth is truly hurtful. I'll have you know I am the Master of diligence." Aegon gives a cocky grin, but Jon notes it doesn't reach his eyes. That he's just forcing it on as he chirps his words out.

When she simply stares at him and waits for his real answer, Aegon sighs, head hanging between his shoulders and glare on the cold hard stone floor.

How will you help her otherwise? Idiot. No—coward.

Aegon grins his teeth, blows out a choppy breath. Lifts his head back up. Looks back into those lovely deep dark pools of brown and asks her, "How long have you been the Queen?"

Jon blinks, confused. Though, she replies, "A week and half."

Aegon winces.

Her claim is still so fresh.

And though he knows how cruel people can turn within the blink of an eye, when he looks back into her eyes, he feels what he's been feeling since he first laid his own on her.

Longing.

Understanding.

Completeness.

Power...

Jon stares at him as he says, "The books in my chambers—many of them had sketches or paintings of myself. Not all of them were good, but enough of them were accurate...enough."

He grins sheepishly and when Jon nods, he asks, "You meet me, and now, you're going to bring your people and yourself here, away from the Iron Throne—will they not surely think I'm trying to lure you away and take back what used to be mine?"

At this, Jon actually finds herself smirking as she tells him, "Well, then, I guess I'm not the only one you must prove your loyalty to."

She grins slightly when he chuckles. Then, says to him, "They will believe me. Whatever I tell them, I swear to you, they will listen to me. And not just because I'm their Queen." It's her turn to smile sheepishly as she rubs the back of her neck and says, "Anyone who knows me actually really...gets annoyed that I can't lie..."

Aegon eyes her curiously when she grimaces, but saves the questions for a time—when he's trying not to panic.

He has no dragon.

No sisters.

No family at all.

No one at all.

He is completely alone and outnumbered.

Jon seems to know just what he's thinking. Pushes herself from the wall and reaches out to rest her hand over his upper arm—and absolutely gulps back the warmth that spreads through her when she feels solid muscle beneath even the thick leathers he's wearing.

Aegon's eyes dart down to where she's touching him. Warmth spreading through his own body, starting from the beautifully burning touch of her hand and flowing to wherever it can reach.

His eyes lift back to hers and he tries but fails not to get lost in her ever intensely undressing gaze. He feels as naked as the moment he met her whenever she looks right into him the way she does now.

He breathes through the disappointment when she pulls her hand back to her side a moment later. His eyes fighting not to flutter, then, snapping back to focus when she says, "I don't know if it means anything to you—but all the same—you're under my protection while you're here."

And by here, she means the time, not the space.

Aegon seems to understand that, smiling softly with a nod and saying, "It means more than you could imagine, Your Grace."

Jon lets him get away with the title this time, because he's making a point and being respectful while he's at it.

And because the sweet look he gives her makes her head feel a little dizzy with want...

"I have an idea." Aegon suddenly says, a small but bright and rather devious grin stretching slowly across his entire face. "A little risky—for me—but simply enough to secure at least a modicum of trust between your people and myself."

Intrigued, as she finds herself a lot around him, Jon steps forward, head tilting and mouth asking, "What are you thinking?"

Aegon's grin widens a tad. His eyes flitting over her shoulder before landing back on hers. He leans closer until their eyes are level and their noses are almost touching.

He smirks over how impressed with her he is when she doesn't look away or even seem the least bit nervous.

He'd feel a little stung over her seemingly lack of attraction to him.

But the eyes never lie.

And even though hers are so dark, he can still tell the difference between her browns and the blacks of her pupils, which is all he now sees as she stares back at him. And that very light dusting of pink on the tops of both her pale cheeks gives him just that little bit more hope.

"Do you trust me, Jon?" He asks in a low and soft voice, then, adding, "If only just a little for now?"

Jon stares back at him, searching his expression for a moment. She then, gives a simple nod.

And his grin is back in a flash, making her heart stutter with how close those perfect lips of his are to hers right now.

"We'll see..." He mumbles, slowly lifting his right hand up.

Jon doesn't move, but doesn't stiffen either. She's completely relaxed, her eyes never leaving his and his never leaving hers as he reaches slowly behind her and latches his hand around the hilt of his sword.

Aegon arcs a brow, impressed once more. Though, his grin slowly falls away from his face, gaze losing focus as he gets absolutely swept out to sea by her dark pools.

He feels a charge around them that feels nothing like fire and everything like the lightning of a storm. But not raging or chaotic, rather muted and distant, like they're suddenly in their own little magical bubble of protection.

Aegon leans in, so sure of making their lips finally meet, his grip on the sword loosening.

And her eyes flutter before closing, followed by the soft intake of her breath...

But when he sees the tiny frown marring her lovely face, he blows out a soft breath. Rests his forehead against hers instead.

She isn't ready.

She isn't thinking of him.

Not yet...

Aegon scowls at his inner voice—which has been annoyingly persistent since he woke up in the future. Pushing them away, he slowly pulls his sword from the makeshift strap she made and strapped to her back, just as slowly lowering it to his side.

Her eyes are still closed and he fights back a soft smile with a frown. Forces himself to focus—well, just enough, anyway—and says, "Go out to meet your people without me. I will soon follow. I sw—I promise, you have my word."

Because this isn't just some oath he's expected to keep.

He is physically promising her.

Jon almost opens her eyes and her mouth to argue—or, at least, ask him what his idea is. But then she feels his free hand come up to cup the back of her neck and all capability of rational thought immediately evacuates her mind.

She shouldn't trust him. At least, not logically.

Yet, here she is, actually relaxing her shoulders and leaning in a little more as his warm fingers give the back of her neck of soft squeeze. She sighs quietly and slowly opens her eyes and feels her heart begin to race when she sees his lilacs slowly disappear under black as he continues to stare at her.

Her grandfather...

(Or—close enough...)

And the sudden flash of Dani lying dead in her arms makes Jon finally pull herself together. For the sake of them both.

Aegon blinks away the moment between them as she pulls it from them both, stepping back from him until his hand slips from her.

Pull her back to you. She wants you.

Again, Aegon ignores the stupid voice in his head. Instead, takes a small step forward while still giving her time to back away. He fights back a smile when she doesn't, then, slowly reaches out to her again. This time, holding his fingertips almost close enough to touch her cheek again, only at the last moment, swooping down to gently grasp her hand in his.

Jon ignores the silly summersaults her belly does when he lifts her hand up to his lips and presses a tender kiss there.

"I," Aegon pauses as if looking for the right words. Then, says, "Understand...that the Targaryens are the odd ones out when it comes down to...too close of a family." He nods, cracks a tiny nervous smile.

Jon suddenly realises he's trying to be careful with his words as to not offend her rather than himself. And she's oddly touched by his simple thoughtfulness.

She also just realised he's still holding her hand, now in both of his own as he lifts it and presses it over his heart. She feels his pulse, steady and strong and...pacing almost as fast as her own.

Which means nothing.

A hint of a sad smirk plays on her lips as Ygritte's words ring through her mind.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

Seems like nothing has changed there. She still feels like she knows absolutely nothing even after finding out pretty much everything.

Aegon takes her expression hopefully—and with a small smile, Jon lets him as she listens to him then says, "I want you to trust me. I want us to trust each other. I want your people to believe I am here to serve their Queen. And yes," He adds with a sincere and rather glum look, "I do miss my best friend and my dragon, but..."

Jon feels his heart beat a little faster as he blows out a chuckle and smiles at her.

"Truth be told, they're just about the only two things I actually do miss."

He hates how shitty it makes him, but he hasn't much thought of his sisters since waking up, and then, even less so when he met Jon.

Jon doesn't know what to say to that, so, she just stays silent.

Truth be told for her right now; she's really just still itching to ask about his sister-wives.

Aegon carefully lets her hand go—hoping to add to the trust he's already managed to gain. He takes a step back, turns his sword around so that the point faces to his rear. He, then, gives her a bow of his head and says, "After you, Your Grace. I will join you shortly. Just give me a few minutes. And promise me, whatever you do, just go along with what I'm doing, please?"

At his hopeful look, Jon's curiosity peaks.

Though, she bites her tongue and instead, asks, "Does it involve any real violence?"

"What??" Aegon wrinkles his nose, looks positively appalled. "No. Of course not."

Jon narrows her eyes suspiciously. "So, you don't...enjoy violence...??" She eyes him curiously.

And he surprises her again by scowling and saying, "I didn't say that. But unlike a lot of men, I only enjoy it when I know I'm doing it for the right reasons."

Jon nods. Thinks to herself. Frowns nervously and tries not to sound so hopeful when asking, "Does it ever get easier?"

At his questioning glance, she elaborates with: "Does killing ever get easier?"

Aegon seems slightly surprised by her asking.

He thought all of her traumas and grievances were all to do with whatever else—that she hasn't told him—has happened to her, and instead, she's still thinking about the lives she took.

Lives he knows were more worthy of taking than a lot of the people he has put to his sword—or Balerion's spitfire.

He sees why she's asking and he decides this isn't a teaching moment, but a moment for him to be empathetic. For him to actually do so and mean it—rather than just going through the motions of it.

He takes breath, thinks about it, then, tells her, "I guess that all depends on what kind of person you are. But the cruel irony of it all is that if you are a truly good person, you will wake up every night for the rest of your life thinking about what you have done, and if you are a truly bad person, you don't even remember killing them—or you make sure you remember every light in a person's eyes that you extinguished."

Jon puffs out a chuckle. Nods, while fighting back tears of relief. "Well, that's..."

Deeply insightful—he surprises her more and more the more he speaks.

She clears the rasp from her throat, says, "That's good to know. Thank you."

Aegon's heart simply sores the moment she cracks a tiny smile. A real smile. Another smile just for him.

He gives her another bow of his head. Takes another step back—if only to keep his itching hands from reaching out to touch her again. If only she would—

"YOUR GRACE? ARE YOU HERE??"

Aegon stiffens slightly, though, Jon notes only his shoulders bunch up, his hand around his sword staying loose and not even twitching once.

Which means, he's either braver than he's letting on, or she should actually start trusting him...

(It could still go either way.)

"For the love of tits and wine, man, use your loaf—of course she is here; her dragon insisted upon us following him."

Tyrion.

Jon fights back a smirk as she takes a deep breath to ready herself—but pauses and scowls when she hears Maester Titus' words.

"I do not like this. She's supposed to be our Queen, and what's the first thing she does? Claims the usurper's dragon who melted the Throne and abandons her people."

Abandons her—

"You should cut out his disrespectful tongue." Aegon spits his words out like raw venom and Jon realises this is the first time she's seeing him truly angered.

And Gods, it really shouldn't be making the place between her thighs wet.

He isn't looking at her as he glares towards the balcony and adds in a dangerously low voice, "Or let me do it for you."

Jon has a moment to take in the sharp angles of his face and the pale golden skin stretched tight under that very light dusting of face shadow. She'd never even noticed until now, being so close to him, that he even has any facial hair. It's so fine and pale like his shaggy locks. Though, oddly, like Dani, his eyebrows are almost so dark blonde that they almost look brown.

Why don't I just draw a damned picture? Gods, I really fucking am a Targaryen, aren't I?

She tears her away from him. Turns her back on him as she finally takes the steps.

She forces out a laugh (at his intense...everything) that echoes up the stairwell, along with her words: "No violence. Your Queen commands it."

And when she pauses to throw a smirk over her shoulder and tell him, "For now, anyway," and then, turns and continues on her way without him, Aegon is simply left standing there, staring after her with the deepest longing in his heart he has ever known.