A/N: Just wanted to briefly say that, I don't like to focus on stats, but thank you all so much for passing 100 kudos! I always appreciate the support so much (even though I can be woefully slow at responding to comments)! I hope you enjoy the chapter! It's probably the first chapter of the story that focuses somewhat heavily on politics (though I couldn't resist adding some slice-of-life/fluff/smut throughout, of course).
Daenerys
Daenerys walked through the streets of King's Landing at an idle pace, nodding politely to those who bowed, knelt, or otherwise acknowledged her. Ever loyal, Ser Barristan had insisted that he accompany her, but she had refused. She needed some time to herself before the meeting that would undoubtedly tire her.
Beyond the dread she felt for a tedious discussion of issues that had long passed, she felt a tinge of fear. Not for herself — she was no stranger to tense or stern discussions, but the same couldn't be said for Jacen. She had no way of knowing how exactly he would react to being under direct scrutiny, but she knew that he wouldn't take it well. Whether or not he openly showed it remained to be seen. She had no qualms about him expressing his emotions, of course, but the same could hardly be said for some of the more scrutinous members of her small council.
You don't need their approval. You're the queen.
Yes, but their approval, given begrudgingly or otherwise, would make all of our lives significantly easier.
She stifled a deep sigh as she turned onto the street that she had visited many times over the last week alone. She found herself wishing that she had broached this subject with him last time they spoke, when they had both been in much higher spirits. He was undoubtedly unbearably nervous now, and such talk would do more harm than good.
You care about him too much. The conversation will be difficult for both of you, but think of how difficult it will be if you never have it. You can't spare his feelings in matters such as this.
It's not like I have a choice anymore. The conversation takes place today whether I like it or not.
You're the queen. You always have a choice…
Too quickly, she found herself on Jacen's doorstep facing his nondescript wooden door. Pushing the thoughts from her mind for the time being, she reached out and knocked. Several seconds passed before the door opened and she saw Jacen standing before her, his hair damp and combed and his face clean shaven. He was fully dressed up otherwise, as if going to a wedding or some other formal gathering.
"Hi," he smiled, sounding as nervous as Daenerys had expected as he stepped aside and motioned for her to come inside. He didn't try to take her coat this time, just walked into his dining room and leaned against the table they had occupied together just that morning.
Not a promising sign…
"You dressed up," she gestured to him, feeling herself blushing under his gaze.
He shrugged his shoulders and gave a small, nervous smile. "It seemed like the right thing to do for the occasion." As if just remembering, or he had read her thoughts, he rushed over to her and helped remove her coat rather hastily, his movements not as gentle as they usually were.
He took an abnormally long time to hang her coat, avoiding her gaze, until he finally turned to her, rubbing the back of his neck. "There's something I've been thinking about today. Something I want to apologize for. About last night."
Daenerys nodded for him to continue.
"Do you remember how I kept saying that I don't care what you want?"
How could I forget?
"Of course," she smiled, her cheeks growing warm again.
"I didn't mean it," he said quickly, visibly tense and nervous. "I do care. I care more than anything. It was a joke. Every time, I swear."
Daenerys grinned and walked over to him. She reached up and gently ruffled his hair, and he seemed to relax slightly. "Of course I know," she said gently. "Don't apologize. If I ever have an issue with something you do, I'll tell you, just like I would hope you'll tell me. I know you care, and it means more than I can say."
"Good," Jacen smiled, though he still appeared immensely uncomfortable.
Daenerys pulled him into a tight hug before leaning up to kiss him lightly on the lips as she ran a hand under his shirt and dragged her fingernails across his bare back. She felt him exhale heavily and relax completely in her grip, nearly going entirely limp, and she smiled up at him. He only shrugged, unsure of what to say as he ran his hands down her back to rest just above her backside.
"Is it too much?" He asked, his body beginning to tense again. "What I'm wearing."
Daenerys kissed him on the jaw and pulled away. "Yes," she said simply as she grabbed his hand and led him to his bedroom. She then began to rifle through his closet. "Don't set their expectations too high, or they'll come to expect it regularly." She pulled out a distinctly ordinary shirt and pair of pants and held them out to him. "Dress up for formal occasions, dress comfortably for meetings."
He took them from her, clearly not convinced, and began to walk to the washroom. Daenerys walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge. He looked over at her and caught her eye, then paused in the doorway and began to strip in front of her with far less reluctance than she would have expected. She couldn't help but laugh as she felt herself blush.
"I know you too well, I think," he smirked as he pulled of his shirt.
"You do, indeed."
"Am I still staying over tonight?"
"You are."
"Do they know?"
Daenerys shrugged her shoulders. "Not now, but they'll find out if they're perceptive enough."
He merely nodded, and Daenerys stifled a sigh.
"What's bothering you?" She asked, hoping she didn't sound short with him.
"Just nervous, is all."
"Is there anything I can do to make you not nervous?"
"Telling me with absolute certainty that they'll like me will do wonders."
"It's not a matter of liking you, Jacen," Daenerys assured him as she watched him slip off his pants. "They have no issues at all with you as a person. It's purely political and planning for the future, I promise." She gave him a reassuring smile, followed by a long silence.
Now is as good a time as any.
"There is one thing, though," Daenerys began. "Something to warn you about."
Jacen nodded for her to continue.
"You're going to feel uncomfortable at first," she said, deciding not to dance around the matter. "Very uncomfortable. You'll feel scrutinized and like they're analyzing your every word. This feeling will pass. It's just something that you need to get used to dealing with."
"But you'll be there?"
Daenerys smiled, a light warmth blossoming in the pit of her stomach. "Yes, I'll be there the entire time."
"Then I'll be fine." Jacen returned her smile and a nod of acknowledgement before slipping the shirt on that Daenerys had picked out for him, which was the best that she could hope for at a time like this.
Suspiciously simple…
"Come here," she said, patting the bed next to her. He obeyed as he straightened his shirt, and she grabbed his hand and intertwined her fingers with his resting on his knee. "I don't think you understand just how uncomfortable this may make you," she said gently.
"They're your council," he responded matter-of-factly. "You can control them, can't you?"
"It's not about them. They can be a rough bunch at times, but they mean well and they'll listen to me if I tell them they've overstepped. I'm worried about you. I know you don't handle pressure well." She felt his arm tense at her words, but he gave no argument. "Today will be your first foray into the intricacies of the royal court, and it can be a stressful and unforgiving place. As I've always said, I won't hold it against you if it's too much and you don't want to pursue this relationship."
"I've already told you that I'm staying," he repeated, not acknowledging her warning otherwise.
"I know, Jacen," she responded testily. "Today is the first day of a new chapter in your life. What you experience today will become your life.. You'll need to take lessons learning about the royal court, they'll likely want you to go through some rudimentary combat training, and you'll need to learn how to carry yourself as a king. I don't think you realize how serious this decision is."
"Daenerys, I love you. You know that."
"Listen to me," she said, her voice growing more frustrated than she would have liked. "We haven't gone through any major tests yet, Jacen. What we experience together will be far more taxing than the way I hurt you by keeping our relationship a secret. There will be days when we're completely at odds with each other, and there will be days when we barely speak. It won't always be nights of passion and waking up happy and content in each other's arms.
"You're not going to be a king, you're going to be the king. We'll rule as equals over an entire continent. I just need you to understand how important this meeting is, and that I won't hold it against you if you decide that you can't handle this life."
"I understand," Jacen said, the same hint of finality in his voice that she heard every time they had discussed this. "I promise."
I don't think you do, she wanted to tell him. I certainly didn't…
"Good," she said instead, giving him a small reassuring smile before standing up and giving his arm a tug. "Let's get going."
Tyrion
Tyrion drummed his fingers lightly on the hard wooden table that sat in the middle of the small council meeting chambers. There was an uncharacteristic tension hanging in the room, though they had known this discussion was inevitable for some time.
"She's late," the Master of Coin, Melvin Lothar of Dorne, said, his characteristic sour expression on his face.
"The queen is never late," Tyrion said, not looking over at him. "We are merely early."
He didn't respond, but the Master of War, Micah Cason of Dorne, gave a small chuckle. Tyrion had always thought them a strange pair. They had arrived in King's Landing together, though they hardly seemed friendly with each other. Micah, a man of no older than thirty, was a spry and outgoing person, while Melvin was an older man of at least sixty who rarely spoke, and when he did, it was rarely to offer anything but a dissenting opinion.
Shortly after her coronation, Tyrion and Daenerys had grappled for many days over the choice of her small council. It had become clear early on that the Starks and Martells were scarcely pleased by the thought of the daughter of the Mad King and sister of Rhaegar Targaryen sitting the Iron Throne. It had been Daenerys's idea to offer both Sansa Stark and Doran Martell the chance to choose a member of their own house to sit on her council as a show of good faith and an attempt at reparations for crimes for which they unjustly held her liable, and Tyrion had agreed with some degree of reservation. Sansa Stark had refused her offer after a rather heated exchange about the authority Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, had in promising Daenerys that the North would kneel to her, so Daenerys had allowed Doran Martell to choose two council members.
For all they were, though, the pair were more than competent in their respective positions. Daenerys had inherited a mountain of debt to the Iron Bank, and the Master of Coin had been invaluable in both negotiations and tax impositions that benefited the crown without bankrupting the people of Westeros. Thanks to the combined efforts of the Master of Ships and the Master of War, the royal fleet and armies were thriving and growing every day. Things were, surprisingly enough, going quite well so early in the reign of a young and largely inexperienced monarch.
Even still, Tyrion found himself slightly put off by them.
As footsteps sounded louder outside, they all turned to the door to see Daenerys walk into the small council chamber, tightly clasping Jacen's hand, who looked immensely uncomfortable. They all stood until the couple were seated in the pair of chairs that sat in the place typically occupied by Daenerys's lone chair, then they all resumed their seats.
Good afternoon, everyone." Daenerys gave a small smile. "Shall we begin?"
All in the chamber nodded their agreement.
"Very good," Daenerys nodded and folded her hands on the table. Tyrion saw Jacen shift ever so slightly, likely to place a hand on Daenerys's thigh. "I suppose we should start with what brings us together today."
As if we don't already know.
"This is Jacen," Daenerys gestured to him. "We've been seeing each other for some time, and we've recently decided to marry."
Nobody seemed terribly surprised by this.
"I've considered the dangers of this, and we've both talked about it at length. We decided on this together, so that topic is not up for discussion." She looked around the table, and no one offered up an opposition. "Today would be best spent preparing for the future and the fact that your king will be a common man."
It does sound odd when you say it aloud…
After a long silence, Davos finally spoke up. "To start, if I may."
Daenerys nodded for him to continue, and Davos stood.
"I would like to apologize on behalf of all of us," he said solemnly, as if this had been on his mind for some time. "We have treated you unfairly, and have staunchly opposed you instead of working together to navigate this situation. We, your council, have chided you as a parent would a young, petulant child." He looked around to his councilors. "I think we have all forgotten that we are advisors."
"Agreed," Ser Barristan spoke up with more vigor than was typical.
"So blind loyalty is what you prefer?" Melvin raised an eyebrow.
"Not at all," Davos responded. "Merely that we remember our place in this political system. You know as well as I do that this betrothal will not go over well with many, so we need to present a united front in supporting it. I would never suggest blind loyalty, but we need to be willing to work towards a compromise that we can all find satisfactory." Before the Master of Coin could respond, Davos turned and gave a small bow to Daenerys before resuming his seat.
Another long silence descended over them. They all knew that Davos was right, Tyrion most of all. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt that he had been the worst offender. He couldn't help but think back to their first day on Dragonstone over two years ago…
Daenerys stood with both hands planted firmly on the Conqueror's map of Westeros. She stared intently at each intricately carved marking, as if trying to commit it to memory. Of course, Tyrion wasn't fooled by such a notion. He had come to know her far too well, and she had confessed her fears to him about taking this final step to take what she had wanted for so long. It visibly terrified her, and Tyrion was pleased to see it.
They had stood alone in silence for several minutes, Daenerys looking as if she would vomit if she tried to speak. Tyrion had asked the rest of her advisors and Lady Olenna (who would undoubtedly act as an advisor whether Daenerys wanted her to or not) to wait outside in the throne room, knowing that this may be a difficult step for her. He had clearly been all too correct.
She drew herself up straight and made her way over to a nearby chair and sat down in a heap. She heaved a sigh and sat back in the chair, resting an elbow on the arm as she reached up to twirl a strand of hair around her fingers, briefly forgetting that her hair was pulled back in an uncharacteristically simple braid.
"Tell me what to do," she broke the silence, not looking at Tyrion as she spoke feebly to the far stone wall. "Please."
Tyrion gave no response.
She looked over at him. "Please," she repeated.
He sat down in a nearby chair and turned to look at her. When she saw his small smile, he could almost hear her internal groan at what was to come.
"What do you want to do?" He asked, his tone as if comforting a sad child.
"What you think I should do."
Tyrion gave a small chuckle. "I am afraid that that is not how this works, Your Grace." He leaned forward and held her gaze. "As I said before we left Meereen: I believe in you. Do you think I would have come this far if I had no faith in you or your ability to lead? You are not infallible, and you will make mistakes. That is why you have advisors. We all believe in you, regardless of how much you believe in yourself."
Daenerys smiled and gave a grateful nod, but he doubted that he had done much to ease her pain.
"Now," Tyrion said. "What do you want to do?"
"I want the Iron Throne."
"Yes, you have mentioned it before."
Daenerys gave him a frustrated look. "Could we invade within the week? We have three dragons, a sizable army, and a fleet of ships."
"That would not be unreasonable."
"But can we?"
Tyrion gave a small smile. "That would be a question for someone far more familiar with the current goings on of King's Landing than I."
Daenerys heaved another sigh and reached up and began to pull at her braid. "Call them in," she said as her silver-blonde hair cascaded freely over her shoulders, giving her an appearance that was far from regal.
Tyrion's smile widened and he nodded before slipping off of his chair and exiting the room.
She would have done anything you asked, Tyrion thought. Burn all of Westeros, grovel for forgiveness and mercy at the feet of Cersei, and everything in between. But you made her choose, and she chose better than you could have imagined. You gave her the agency that she's tried so desperately to use for the past several weeks, but you've done nothing but fight her.
He had never been one to shy away from gently prodding her along, as he had had to do on multiple occasions in the early days of her rule when she had been much less sure of herself, but he had been sure to leave all final decisions to her alone. He had always struggled to make sure that, even if a policy or royal decree was his idea, she could follow his thought process; and in time she had become sure enough of herself to offer insight of her own, making for a much more even exchange of ideas that he had come to find entertaining. He knew that Daenerys would outlive all of the advisors whom she trusted so absolutely, so she must be able to both make decisions on her own and choose advisors who would temper her instead of bend to her will.
Maybe, instead of telling her what you would and would not allow, you should have spent more time trying to guide her to the conclusion that, while this relationship was certainly possible, it would be immensely difficult. It certainly would have saved everyone a good deal of time and stress.
The notion had plagued him of late, and had stolen many hours of sleep. He spent several hours every day with the queen, and had for the past two years, and he could testify firsthand that she had been in much higher spirits ever since embarking on this partnership with a man no nobleman would spit in the direction of.
If he has indeed decided that he wants to transition into this life, perhaps an apology would be in order… To both of them.
Daenerys's voice cut through the silence, rousing him.
"Thank you, Ser Davos," she said, her tone grateful, "and I accept your apology, of course. I only hope that we can all put this behind us and move forward as a single unit."
Everybody nodded their ascent, and Tyrion leaned forward. "Now," He glanced over at the couple sitting to his left. "There was talk of a betrothal?"
Daenerys smiled and nodded as she reached under the table, likely to take Jacen's hand.
"If I may?" Davos said before Tyrion could continue. "I have thought about this at length."
Tyrion gestured for him to continue, surprised that the soft spoken Master of Ships had spoken up so readily twice within the first minutes of a meeting. "Of course, Ser Davos."
"Do we care about the opinion of the nobility of King's Landing, or of Westeros as a whole?"
"As a whole, I would think," Varys responded. "The support of the Great Houses would go a long way in securing legitimacy in the eyes of the nobility who reside in the city. Even if this does not encourage them to completely change their positions on the legitimacy of this union, the support of the rest of Westeros would still be quite welcome."
"Welcome, indeed," Tyrion agreed. "Continue, Ser Davos."
"Before a proper official announcement, perhaps it would be wise to invite the lords and ladies of the Great Houses to meet with them and form their opinions on the union themselves instead of hearing about it through hearsay. When the union and betrothal are publicly announced, it will be a proper event where they are treated as honored guests. Once the nobles of King's Landing see the leaders of the other Great Houses offer their approval, they would undoubtedly be swayed."
"If they do offer their approval," Tyrion pointed out, to which Davos gave a nod of concession.
"They will," Daenerys assured him. "Once they meet him, I know they will."
"An excellent suggestion," Ser Barristan said, "but I see a flaw in this plan. No matter how much we try to keep this a secret, news of this will travel fast among the nobility, and the lords of the Great Houses will not be able to travel to King's Landing overnight. Assuming we send out the ravens this instant, we could be waiting the better part of two moon's turns for the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and Lady Stark to arrive from Winterfell. I only worry if we can wait that long."
"A worthy point," Davos conceded. "Perhaps the official announcement should come within the next few days, and we announce a celebration that will host a contingent from all of the Great Houses to be held in the near future."
"Would that not nullify the original purpose?" Varys asked. "If we seek to use the opinions of the lords of the Great Houses to sway the opinions of the nobility of King's Landing, we can hardly do so after the betrothal is publicly announced."
"A quandary," Tyrion nodded. "Perhaps we should put out the announcement and hold a royal court the next day that will allow all to express their grievances or their well wishes, commoners and nobles alike. We then announce a celebration that will be held in honor of such a historic union that will join a dynasty spanning centuries with the family that helped forge the throne upon which she now sits."
"That's just something my uncle likes to say," Jacen gave a small smile, well aware of his uncle's repeated (and often drunken) assertions that their ancestor had been one of the blacksmiths to forge the Iron Throne from the flames of the Black Dread.
"A bit or embellishment never hurt anyone, though," Micah gave a small chuckle.
"Never, indeed," Tyrion agreed.
"A tale that will charm the realm, to be sure," Varys smiled.
"Let us hope," Ser Barristan agreed.
"Would it be possible to do this within the week?" Daenerys looked around.
"Of course," the Grand Maester assured her. "I will begin to prepare the invitations once we adjourn."
"Excellent." Daenerys gave an approving nod. "Now, how should the official announcement take place? Things of this sort must be carefully planned."
Davos shrugged his shoulders. "Announce it on the front steps of the Sept of Baelor and walk through the streets among the crowd of well wishers back to the Red Keep. Save the theatrics for the proposed royal court. Hold it in the Dragonpit — you pushed to have it restored to its former glory, and it's hardly been used."
Daenerys was well aware of this, and was immediately eager to see it used for such an occasion. "Strongly agreed. As soon as Grand Maester Loren is finished with the preparations to send out the ravens, we will plan to make the announcement."
"After I write to my sisters?" Jacen looked over at Daenerys.
No one spoke, but Daenerys smiled. "Of course. Write them today, and have them respond when they receive it. Once we have their response, the Grand Maester can send out the other invitation letters. They will, of course, be treated as guests on par with the lords of the Great Houses. The same goes for their husbands and children."
"Who are their husbands?" The Master of Coin looked at Jacen. "Are they of noble birth?"
"Rosaria is married to Jared Mallister living in Riverrun, and Jenna is married to a common man living near the Trident."
"So, yes."
"I suppose," Jacen shrugged his shoulders, making a poor attempt at being dismissive with the raised point.
"Patrek is a strong man, and he's still young enough to have many children yet. The likelihood that Jared will inherit Seagard is minimal at best," The Master of War looked over at him. "I see no issue."
Melvin shrugged his shoulders and grunted in ascension. No one else raised an issue or even seemed particularly surprised at this revelation, likely because it had been Varys's first act to find out everything he could about Jacen's family and upbringing and bring it to their small small council for discussion.
"Now," Tyrion began. "We must have a rather difficult conversation." He turned to look at Jacen. "You have discussed this at length, and you have made this choice fully on your own, knowing what it will cost you?" Daenerys leaned forward, but Tyrion held up a hand. "We need to hear it from him," he said, briefly forgetting Davos's words of apology, and looked back at Jacen.
"I have," he spoke with force for the first time. "I want this."
You don't want this . You want her . No sane man would want the Iron Throne if he lived a life like yours. A job you love, friends who love you with no regard for what material gain you have to offer them, and the ability to retire to your own home in privacy at any moment you please for any amount of time you please. No obligations beyond your job and those you choose.
"Very good," Tyrion said. "I suppose we should move on to how this will be handled after this announcement, then. How much do you know of the royal court?"
"Only what I've seen passing through as a blacksmith for the Queensguard."
"Then you'll need to take classes — proper etiquette, Westerosi history, the Great Houses and their vassals, the roles each of us on the small council play, the art of diplomacy, and some rudimentary sword training should suffice to start."
"To start?" Jacen asked.
"To start," Tyrion confirmed. "This is all to prepare you for the life you have chosen as of this moment. It will be difficult at first, but I can assure you that it would be in your best interest to take it seriously."
"So I'll have to quit working with my uncle, then?" He asked, though Tyrion knew that the young man already knew the answer.
"You do," Tyrion nodded, his voice sympathetic. "The reasons are twofold — it would distract you from your studies, and it would endanger your uncle and anyone else working in your shop should someone seek to do you harm as a future monarch. I am afraid that this is not up for debate."
Jacen merely nodded, though Tyrion could see the heartbreak in his eyes. Yes, he already knew, but that did little to soften the blow dealt by such a devastating paradigm shift.
"If I do that, can I ask for something in return?"
"You could ask, of course."
"I don't want a coronation and a big ceremony just for me," Jacen said, his voice firm.
"Denied," Tyrion responded immediately. "The coronation is symbolic, both to the common men and the noblemen. You will be crowned in the Sept of Baelor just like every other king and queen before you, and the event will be watched by as many people as can fit in the building, then you will travel through the streets of King's Landing to the Red Keep to allow the people look upon you as their king for the first time. One thing you need to learn sooner rather than later is that theatrics are very important when it comes to politics and the royal court."
"Do I have to sit on the Iron Throne?" He asked.
Tyrion couldn't help but chuckle. "Rarely. As the king consort, you would only sit the throne in the queen's absence."
"He's not my consort," Daenerys said, her voice short.
Tyrion smiled and nodded. "Of course, but the point stands."
Jacen nodded, satisfied that he had at least won something in their exchange, which was more important to Tyrion than anything else.
"Perhaps," Melvin said before Tyrion could continue, "now would be the best time to discuss the future of the realm…" His voice trailed off.
Daenerys bristled and looked prepared to rise from her seat. "Elaborate," she said instead, her voice controlled.
"The people will never bow to a king born from a queen and a common man," he said matter-of-factly. "It would be no different from a bastard inheriting the throne. Without a dragon to maintain his or her rule, your dynasty would end again before your corpse has cooled."
All eyes turned to Daenerys, including Tyrion's. Her expression was unreadable, but Tyrion had spent enough time alone with her to know that she was angry — whether at the raising of the question at all, or at the fact that it was indeed a valid question Tyrion couldn't say. Next to her, Jacen looked even more uncomfortable than he had when they had first sat down.
Tyrion opened his mouth to break the silence, but Daenerys spoke first. "Our child will be born of our blood, and will be the heir to the Iron Throne." Her voice was surprisingly level, though it carried an undertone of menace. "This will not be negotiated."
When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.
The Master of Coin shrugged his shoulders again and sat back in his chair.
"As unpleasant as it is," Tyrion began, his voice resolute. "The Master of Coin raises a valid concern."
"And I acknowledge that," Daenerys nodded, "but what I said is no less true. If the people approve of him, they will accept him and our descendants."
"We can only hope," Varys said. "If the people are accepting of this union after the betrothal announcement, I would hope that we have little to worry about."
"Can we do more than hope?" Davos looked over at him.
"Certainly," Varys nodded. "Blind acceptance should not be expected."
"Then perhaps this should be discussed now," Daenerys said, "with the assurance that this will be expanded upon as the need arises."
"I agree," Varys said, "and this is something that I myself have thought about at length over the past week. I believe that a legitimate child born of your union would be accepted perfectly well, provided that the people know the child will rule well. After the child is born and has been weaned, take them on a progress throughout the Seven Kingdoms and introduce them to lords and commoners alike. Let the people see that the child is kind and well-adjusted, and that they have no reason to expect otherwise. Host grandiose parties on their name day and regularly take them into the city to mingle among the other children their age. Make sure that they know the life of a commoner as well as they know the life of a future ruler. Instill in them a love for the people, and they will receive that love in return."
"An excellent course of action, I think," Tyrion glanced over at Melvin, who nodded his ascent, offering nothing more, "and one that should settle the matter for the time being."
"I completely agree," Daenerys nodded, clearly relieved that Varys had put so much thought into this. "As for the present, what do you know of the feelings of the common people?"
"Your betrothed is largely beloved," Varys said with a small smile. "A common man captures the heart of a queen, bridging the gap between ruler and subject. I suspect that you will face no opposition from the people of King's Landing. As for those beyond, it is difficult to say. We would need the input of the lords of the Great Houses on the feelings of their people, though I hardly expect that it would be appreciably different from those of King's Landing."
Daenerys nodded, visibly relieved.
"We have the nobility sorted, and we have the common folk sorted. Is there anything else that needs to be addressed at this time? It has been a disappointingly short meeting, after all," he added with a joking smile.
"There is one more thing," Davos said. "We have the betrothal and official announcements sorted, but we have yet to speak of the wedding itself. The timing seems of particular concern."
Daenerys nodded. "I think that this would best be done when we all believe that Jacen is ready to assume his future role."
"And how do you propose we decide that?" Melvin asked.
"We let him decide," she gave a small smile and looked over at him.
Jacen looked around, at a loss for words. "Are you sure?" He finally asked.
"Quite sure," Tyrion nodded. "Your training will not be easy or swift, and we need to make sure that, after this union is made official, you are fully prepared to step into your role. The transition will be difficult, and we need to make it as seamless as possible."
All around the table nodded their assent, even Jacen. He seemed somewhat relieved that he had some degree of agency in the process, which was Tyrion's goal more than anything else. He had learned over the past two years with Daenerys that agency and subsequent success bred confidence far more than simple compliments and praise, and it was even more important in this case, where a common man would transition into an entirely different world that hadn't been completely foreign to Daenerys at the time she ascended the throne. Letting him choose would undoubtedly be inconvenient, but the long-term benefits were undeniable.
"We should set an upper limit, though," Ser Barristan spoke up, "to give us something to work towards. I propose one year starting from the day his classes begin, which I would assume may be tomorrow?"
"I agree," Tyrion nodded, "and that can certainly be arranged. It will require a great deal of coordination on our part, though, so the actual classes should begin after the official announcement and court at the Dragonpit." Ser Barristan nodded his ascent to Tyrion's amendment.
A long silence descended on the room, much to Tyrion's surprise. They had been talking for no more than thirty minutes, and this subject had loomed over them for so long that he (and likely all others in attendance) had expected the meeting to go well into the night.
"Does that settle things?" Daenerys looked around.
"I would say so," Ser Barristan said with a small smile. He had loyally attended every small council meeting for the past two years because it was his duty, but he had always said that he was a knight, not a politician. Daenerys had always been immensely glad to have him present, even on days where he had nothing to say.
"Completely settled?" She pressed. "This is the last time we will speak of this?"
"Provided no other issues arise, I would say so," Tyrion nodded.
"Very well," she smiled, seeming to relax ever so slightly. "Let us adjourn, then."
Tyrion watched as his fellow council members rose, bowed to Daenerys in turn, and filed out of the council chambers. He looked over at Daenerys and Jacen, who were rising themselves. He opened his mouth to stop them, but saw her look over and meet Jacen's gaze to give him an encouraging nod. He gave her a weary smile, and Tyrion elected not to raise the question.
"You did well," he looked up at Jacen and gave him an encouraging nod, "but I assure you that we are not always so kind."
"No, I would expect not," Jacen smiled as Daenerys led him around the council table.
"Good night, Tyrion," Daenerys said, squeezing Jacen's hand tightly, clearly in very high spirits.
"The same to the two of you," he smiled as he watched them leave, then pushed a hand through his hair and reached for a goblet that wasn't there.
Daenerys
Daenerys led Jacen into her bedchambers and closed the door behind them. She turned to look back at him and saw him staring around the room, almost in wonder.
"Impressed?" She asked, amused.
"Very," he responded, not turning to her.
She pulled him into a tight one-arm hug before walking over to sit on her bed.
"Productive meeting, do you think?"
"I suppose," Jacen shrugged his shoulders, his tone uncharacteristically absent as he looked around the room and began to walk to the washroom.
"If nothing else, it went better than I expected. You were amazing, you know."
It had indeed gone better than she could have ever hoped for. She had gone in fully expecting her council to dissect him and probe him from every angle over the course of hours, and she had even been prepared to comfort Jacen if he found himself needing to step out. They had been frank, possibly overly so at times, but they had said only what needed to be said. She couldn't help but wonder if Davos's words had been more than just an apology. Perhaps they had seen how nervous he was and somehow collectively decided to be more gentle with him since he was so far removed from the royal court.
Most likely, though, they weren't nearly as opposed to her decision as she had been telling herself and Jacen. Perhaps this would be just as much of a transition for her as it would be for him…
"Only because you were there," he called back to her. His voice was still absent, but it made her heart swell all the same. "Are they always that easy?"
Daenerys laughed. "In times of peace, yes, but quite the opposite otherwise."
She lay back on her bed and moved over to what she would claim as her side. As she stared up at the ceiling, exhaustion already setting in before she had even changed into her nightclothes, a thought occurred to her…
If the Lord Commander is coming, surely Jorah would as well?
The thought made her heart swell anew. She had sorely missed him in the two years since he had departed for the Wall, when they had said yet another goodbye. He had promised her that he would only be gone for five years before returning to her side, and she had soon found herself counting the days. She had come to love Ser Barristan dearly, and he had been a comforting ear on many a night when she felt like her world was crumbling, but Jorah had been with her during what had in retrospect been her formative years. He had been the closest she had to a true confidant and trusted advisor for a very long time, and she could safely say that she wouldn't be alive without him.
Beyond all of this, though, she wondered what he would think of Jacen. She had every reason to believe that they would take to each other instantly, perhaps more so than any other nobleman that Jacen would meet, which brought a new warmth to her heart. Something in her knew that Jacen would actively seek his approval above any other in all of Westeros, even though it would be purely symbolic at this point. The betrothal was established, and within a week the entirety of Westeros and beyond would know that Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen had at last found a man to take as a husband.
"You've seen my chambers before, if you recall."
"Not as your betrothed, I haven't," he called back to her, still in the washroom.
Daenerys laughed as she sat up and began to take down her braid with lazy hands. "And how is that any different?"
"Seeing a person without their clothes on changes a lot of things, especially when you aren't dumping out buckets of vomit."
"Does it, now?"
"It most certainly does," he walked out of the washroom and grabbed his nightclothes from the nearby couch.
"Stop," she said as he walked back into the washroom. He turned and gave her a puzzled look, which she met with a sly smile. "Change out here," she said, freeing her hair and allowing it to cascade across her shoulders before reclining against the headboard. "I want to watch."
"Of course you do," he smiled and returned to the room, blushing furiously.
"Why are you embarrassed?" Daenerys grinned as she watched him begin to remove his belt. "You were fine this morning."
Jacen only shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.
"Regardless, make it quick," she gestured for him to continue. "As you've learned, I am not a patient woman."
"No, you certainly aren't," Jacen chuckled as he slipped off his pants and quickly donned his sleep pants. He took off his shirt, but he caught Daenerys's wandering gaze before he could put on his nightshirt, and he tossed it on the couch and walked over to join her on the bed. "Is this my side?"
"It's best if you face the door. If someone comes in, I'll need you to protect me."
"Then you've chosen the wrong man," Jacen chuckled and lay down next to her. "Now," he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before giving her a hard slap on the backside. "Get up and strip. I'm going to fuck you before bed."
Daenerys's heart leapt into her throat at the sound of those words coming from his mouth so casually. She turned on her side and reached out to rest a hand on his cheek as she leaned towards him. He leaned forward to meet her and their tongues gently intertwined, their kiss deepening instantly as Jacen put a hand on the small of her back and drew her closer.
Though he had gotten noticeably better at kissing since the first kiss they had shared, she could tell that he was still unsure of himself. Even still, she found herself completely lost in him as soon as their tongues met. She had nearly forgotten how intoxicating he tasted, enhanced tenfold by the feeling of a gentle but possessive hand in the small of her back, drawing her closer to him.
As their kiss deepened and his grip became tighter on her, her thoughts began to drift to things that they had yet to explore. Things that she wanted him to experience at her hand, and things that she wanted to experience at his — some profoundly intimate, and some… torturously so. They were a step away from being officially betrothed, and they had decided to give the rest of their lives to each other. She struggled between wanting to spend the next week in bed with him, exploring every inch of each other's bodies and desires, and drawing it out over months or even years, prolonging these moments that would bring them so much closer than she had ever dared to be with anybody.
As she began to pull at his waistband, Jacen shoved her hand away and slapped her on the backside again with such force that it drew forth an involuntary whimper. Her heart was pounding as she stared into his captivating green eyes, so full of the love and desire that she had come to know well recently. His expression unchanging, he leaned into her ear. "Do as you're told," he breathed before swatting her on the backside once more. He withdrew and gave her a hard shove on the shoulder, pushing her onto her back. She laughed and shoved him in return before rising to obey his command, still scarcely believing that this was the same man she had slept with only the previous night.
She stood next to the bed and began to slowly strip, turning away from him to give him a full view of her backside. She left her shirt for last, and removed it tantalizingly slowly as she turned to face him again. All the while he stared at her in silence, his gaze one of pure hunger.
"You're all I could think about all day," he said as she got back into bed and moved closer to him.
"Be more specific," she smiled and ruffled his hair before sitting up and beginning to pull off his sleep pants.
"The way you whispered in my ear." He reached out and twirled a strand of her silver-blonde hair around his index finger. "The way you screamed my name and ran your hands through my hair. Most of all, your fucking amazing… breasts."
She laughed as she finished removing his sleep pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor. "We're making progress, and you're only slightly blushing this time." She reached out and gave him two hard strokes, making him jump violently, before lying down next to him.
He reached out and pulled her to him. Her fingers immediately tangled in his hair and she arched her back into him as their lips met, but he quickly broke their kiss and pushed her onto her back as he climbed on top of her. She laughed and scratched his back as she stared into his impossibly deep green eyes.
In them she saw the same love and desire that she had seen when they first slept together, but his gaze was different this time, or perhaps she was seeing him differently. She felt a knot of unfamiliar feelings settle in the pit of her stomach. Not unpleasant or unwelcome, but unfamiliar nonetheless. It was almost as if their first time sleeping together had opened a new door in their relationship that they had yet to explore.
Jacen clearly felt it too, judging by the way he spoke to her and handled her. The man she had known only the previous day would have never sworn at her or forced her onto her back without asking permission, but he had done so seamlessly. As they held each other's gaze, completely silent, she began to wonder what she had done to so thoroughly earn his trust, but she immediately decided that she didn't care. Whatever she did, she had uncovered a side of him that only she would ever see. No matter how he carried himself outside of their bedchambers, she would always have this part of him solely for herself.
She gave him a small smile of contentment before leaning up and gently kissing him on the lips. His tongue immediately sought out hers as he put a hand on the back of her head, as if afraid that she might shatter if he kissed her too forcefully.
After a delightfully long and gentle kiss, Jacen pulled away and withdrew his hand to rest on her cheek. "You know what I want." He smirked as he dragged a thumb along her temple.
"Then why are you asking?" She reached up and took his hand in her own and brought it around to plant a kiss on the back of it. "They're as much yours as they are mine, but you can't stop until I've finished."
"You say that as if it would be a challenge."
She laughed and put a hand on his face and shoved him down her body. "Do your worst, then." She grinned as she reached down and gave his hair a light tug. "If I deem you unsatisfactory, I'll make you scream for mercy."
He gave her a mischievous smile and leaned down to take her bruised nipple into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with her. As soon as his tongue touched its exquisitely sensitive tip, a new wave of sensations exploded from her chest, radiating through her body. As she reeled from the sudden onslaught, she arched her back into him, urging him to take more of her into his mouth. He quickly obliged, and slipped a hand under her back to hold her against him as he ran his free hand up her body to rest on her other breast.
She placed a hand on top of his and tightly grasped it, the only thing anchoring her to the world at this very moment. The waves of sensation were unlike anything she had ever experienced, even the previous night. She let out a series of low whimpers as his tongue continued to probe at her, her grip tightening on his hand.
He chuckled in response, not taking his mouth from her. "Satisfactory?"
She laughed and managed a weak nod.
He chuckled again. "Yes, I thought so."
She gave another laugh and slapped him on the side of the head before returning her hand to his hair, which was met with a particularly hard bite. She let out a loud moan as she arched even further into his grip.
"Fuck me," she gasped as she teetered on the edge of oblivion. "Please." She looked down at him and saw him shake his head, his teeth grazing lightly against her skin and making her ears ring.
"You're in no position to be making demands," he said smugly as he lifted his head, allowing his teeth to linger for the briefest moment along the contours of her breast.
"I'm not demanding, I'm begging."
"Why?" He asked innocently as he reached up and flicked her bottom lip with his thumb. "What do you like so much about me fucking you?"
Daenerys laughed and squeezed his hand, desperately trying to stave off the warmth settling in the pit of her stomach. "I can feel your back muscles tense with each thrust," she offered, unable to think of anything else as his wandering hand assaulted her senses, the other still on her back.
"Is that all?" He raised an eyebrow as he traced his index finger along her collarbone with a gentleness that bordered on maddening.
"The way you gasp in my ear."
"Continue."
"The way you hold me tightly against you and make me feel like I'm the only person that matters to you at that moment."
He grinned at her. "Because you are," he said quietly as he traced his finger around her neck and began to twirl a lock of her silver-blonde hair around it. "I love you more than anything, but in moments like this, when we're the only two people who exist in the world, you're so much more to me than I could ever put into words." He dragged his thumb gently along her temple.
She nearly broke down at the sound of his words accompanied by his gentle touch. In all her years, she had never had anyone speak of her with such profound reverence and love. She reached up and took his jaw in her free hand and ran her hand along his newly shaven cheek and up through his hair, pushing it out of his face and behind his ear. She tried to find the words to articulate her own feelings, but none would come. All feelings of arousal had left her, leaving behind only a profound sense of closeness that hung between them.
"Are you sure I'm the first woman you've been with?"
"Fairly certain, yes," Jacen nodded, not withdrawing his hand. "Why do you ask?"
Daenerys shrugged her shoulders. "It just seems like you always know what to do or what to say to make me feel loved. I have a hard time believing that you've never done this before. Especially with a body like yours." She added with a small pinch of his cheek.
Jacen chuckled. "I do and speak exactly what I feel. It's almost… instinctual, you could say. I guess it just comes naturally when you meet the right person."
Daenerys laughed and laid her head back on her pillow, allowing her hand to fall and rest on his forearm. "That is exactly what I mean."
"Did you ever consider that maybe you just aren't as complex as you think you are?" He asked with a small smirk as he ran his thumb along her jaw and playfully tugged at her bottom lip. She leaned forward and bit it in retaliation, and she felt a sharp pain on her cheek seconds later, closely followed by the familiar blossoming warmth in her lower stomach.
"Did you just slap me?" She brought a hand up to her stinging cheek.
"Yes," Jacen said, his voice almost frantic and a look of surprise on his face. "I don't know why, I just… did. Don't you like that sort of thing? I'm sorry. I should've asked. I—"
"Stop," she said gently, reaching out to comb a hand through his hair. "I do like it," she assured him. She grabbed a clump of his hair and gave it a gentle tug, inviting him to come closer. He obediently crawled up her body and settled down on top of her as their lips met. She wrapped her arms around him at the same time she felt him do the same, their tongues gently intertwining as her cheek throbbed.
It was an otherworldly experience, being caressed so gently by a man hardened by years of manual labor. She had never known a love so tender but so incredibly strong, and she had never been with a man who had such a profound respect for her own pleasure and desires.
She had never been a man's first experience, either. Her past partners had been noticeably more experienced than Jacen, but she found her night with Jacen to far surpass all other nights she had had with her past suitors. She could already tell that they had so many exciting nights ahead of them, full of exploration and discovery, and the excitement made—
Her thoughts were suddenly scrambled beyond recollection as he gently traced a finger along her spine.
"I love you," she gasped involuntarily into his mouth.
"I love you," he whispered, pulling her tightly to his chest until they were almost one being.
The feelings of arousal returned in full force. Now all she could think about was him inside of her, his muscles flexing under her grasping hands as he drove her towards oblivion. It was a lust that seemed to consume her, as if she hadn't just had him the previous night. As if she had never had him.
No sooner had this renewed hunger set upon her than she felt Jacen's grip slacken as he slowly went limp against her leg. He heaved a deep sigh and rested his forehead against her chin, the strong smell of his shampoo only feeding the hunger that had yet to be satiated. She scratched his back and kissed him on the top of his head.
"Is something wrong?"
He shrugged his shoulders and rolled over onto his back next to her. She turned on her side and rose up on her elbow to find him staring at the ceiling, clearly avoiding her gaze. Any hint of the desire that had so recently lingered in his eyes was now completely gone, replaced with a look of uncomfortable and shy sadness. She felt her own desire fading as well, to be replaced by rather confusing feelings of immense frustration and painful longing.
You need to ask him about these sudden mood changes.
Right after you tell him that you may not be able to have children after making a deal with a vengeful witch.
"What is it?" She pressed, pushing the frustration away with some difficulty.
"I… don't want to quit working for my uncle," he finally managed, clearly immensely uncomfortable sharing this with her. "I don't want to disappoint him."
"Why would you be disappointing him?" She reached out and placed a hand on his chest, which he didn't seem to notice.
He shrugged his shoulders again, not responding.
"I don't think he would be angry at you, or even hurt. If anything, I'm sure he would be proud of you for taking such a massive step."
Jacen shrugged again. "I'd rather not talk about it."
Daenerys sighed, not at all comfortable with leaving this open ended, but she didn't want to push him. "Another time, then," she smiled and reached up to smooth his hair down. He made no attempt to engage with her again, merely turned away from her onto his side and pulled the sheets up over his chest. "Is there anything I can do?" She asked, sliding over to him and draping an arm around him to rest on his chest.
"No," he responded, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Do you want me to hold you?"
"No."
She stifled a sigh, unsure of how to proceed. She had seen him undergo these sudden shifts in mood and demeanor, but never to this extent. She settled for kissing him once on the shoulder and returned to her side of the bed, hoping that, whatever he felt, he would be ready to talk about it after a full night's sleep.
BEHIND THE CHAPTER
This chapter took ages to write because, when I was about halfway finished with the first draft, I suddenly had the idea to have an entire flashback chapter to Daenerys's first days on Dragonstone to show her more insecure side as she came to terms with what she was finally about to do in invading Westeros, and after writing about a fourth of that chapter, I realized that I didn't really have much to add that couldn't be given in a brief flashback, save for the initial invasion plans and how she meets the Night's Watch. After a long time of thinking about it and coming back to it several times over the course of a few weeks, I decided to include the relevant parts in the flashback in this chapter and to add in the other bits as flashbacks here and there, or to maybe include it as part of a larger chapter somewhere down the line.
I also spent a lot of time on the meeting scene because I felt that, since the beginning of the story, the same handful of characters had been having the same few conversations, so I decided to wrap it up with everyone together at one time so we can have the "people won't like this" conversation one final time and move on. It's something that I didn't quite catch as I was writing each chapter since I don't really write them back to back, but as I was re-reading past chapters and coming up with ideas for the actual meeting, I realized that there was a surprising amount of repetition (if not in content, then at least in theme) and I felt that it was time to move on to another overarching plot thread and have everyone finally address the fact that this is happening as well as have Daenerys take on more agency with respect to this entire situation.
At the end of the day, my main goal with this chapter became to wrap up "act 1" of this story. The next chapter will start with preparing for the betrothal announcement, and the following "act" as a whole will be more or less about the wedding preparations as well as delving a bit more into Jacen's mental health issues that I've shown/alluded to a few times up to this point (especially in Chapter 5).