Warg Maiden
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 49: Dragonstone
Imogen's POV
Traveling by ship has become a nuisance.
For short distances, I am fine. However, for long distances, boredom has surely come. When going to Hardhome, I had the company of Tormund and others from the Free Folk. Now, I was alone as everyone seemed occupied.
There were parts of the day when Ser Davos got Jon and me together to work on a strategic strategy for addressing Daenerys Targaryen. She was what Ser Davos called a wild card. Possibly the last Targaryen by name and blood. Even though there are descendants whose ancestors married a Targaryen and dragonseeds. Or at least that was a fancy way to call bastards.
I remember all the visions of the Targaryen dynasty from when they arrived at Westeros to King Aegon the unlikely. The last vision the Three-Eye Raven showed me was a terrible fire at a place called Summerhall. A gathering of all the Targaryens as King Aegon tried to resurrect the dragons that led to his family's destruction. The last vision was a woman going through labor in the garden with her husband, trying to deliver their baby. After he carried her out from the flames.
They had a boy.
A boy they named Rhaegar.
After that, nothing, as I was tossed aside. Or so I thought, as Blood Raven…Bryden. Told me the truth. He saw my future as the Three-Eyed Raven and the sacrifices I would have made. The thought saddens me that Bryden made the choice as his way of loving me. I hated him for years after what I thought was abandonment. Now I hate the Three-Eyed Raven more.
Sansa told me the North's perspective on what happened to Rhaegar and his father, Aerys, the Mad King. There were great Targaryens, terrible Targaryens, and those who were neutral. After what Rhaegar and the Mad King did during the war over twenty years ago…I can see everyone's caution regarding Daenerys Targaryen. As madness runs in the family.
Then again, when you are a product of incest, there will always be complications, either physically or mentally. So, the question is, what is Daenerys Targaryen? As reports stated, she has three dragons, was once married to a warlord, conquered three cities, and has an army of eunuch soldiers.
Power is a dangerous thing.
Maester Aemon avoided it.
Will Daenerys be like him or just like all the rest?
Jon wasn't sure, as he held caution, but not like Sansa and the other Lords of the North. It was a big decision Jon would have to make. Jon planned to forge an alliance and, if not, mined the dragonglass. But there is a chance Daenerys will demand that Jon bend the knee and give back to the North. Much to everyone's protest.
However, does giving back the North mean Beyond the Wall, too?
If we succeed in defeating the Night King and his army, the Free Folk would want to return to their lands. Revive what has been fallen for many centuries. If Daenerys also demands the True North, there will be a problem. The Free Folk do not kneel to anyone. When Mance was declared king, he did not demand compliance but respect. The Free Folk respect Jon as King of the Southern North, but he doesn't rule over us.
Either way, we are dealing with the unknown.
When not discussing strategies, Ser Davos tried to keep me company with more stories of his youth. Although he mentioned that he has a wife and children who still live in Rainworth after his sons Dale, Allard, and Mathos died in the War of the Five Kings and Stannis's downfall, he hasn't gained the courage to face his wife and other children.
"Do you want to see them again?" I asked.
"I do…but I'm much of a coward," Ser Davos answered.
I gave a chuckle.
"What?" he asked.
"You fought naval battles, pirates, and wars…and you are afraid of your wife," I stated.
Ser Davos shook his head and said, "My wife is the best woman in the world, as she gave me seven sons. But when scorn…I'd rather hide than face her wrath."
I laughed, shaking my head, hoping Ser Davos would one day have the courage to face his wife.
"Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned," I said.
"Agreed," Ser Davos agreed.
When Ser Davos was not giving me company, then Jon would. Jon has spent the majority of his time working on the ship. Despite being a king, he doesn't like to stand around and do nothing. Although the crew tried to decline his aid. Either way, I find Jon being on watch or part of the tethering. A lot was going through his mind. And keeping watch for the Greyjoys was his way of being active.
He would usually sit beside me with Skadi as we watched the ocean. We sat in silence. And when we talked, it was learning about our childhood and cultures. What surprised me was when Jon asked to learn Old Tongue. The only words he knows of are Magnar and Sygerrik. As Jon said, if he was still alive and King in the North, he wanted to continue the alliance with the Free Folk, with a trade or something along those terms.
"I don't want the Wall to separate us," Jon explained.
"If we can go back to the True North," I reminded.
It could be months, years, or decades before the Night King lays siege. The Wall is the only thing keeping the White Walkers and Wights from crossing. Jon changed the subject back to learning the old tongue.
"Very well," I said. "Skagos."
"Skagos," Jon repeated. "As in the island."
"Skagosmeans stone," I explained. "The natives of the island call themselves stoneborn."
Jon nodded.
Thus, I taught Jon Old Tongue.
Despite it being a harsh language.
It was a nice distraction, and it made me appreciate Jon more, as he wanted to learn the old ways of the First Men.
However, time seemed to fly when Dragonstone came into sight. I had seen it in visions of the past. Yet, to see it in person was different. A grim place, Dragonstone was built like a fortress, as Bryden called it, the arcane arts, fire, and sorcery. Still, it appears more of a fortress of black stone. On top of an island, with black sand beaches. In the far distance was a mountain that was an actual volcano.
Let alone it was warm. Warm that we did not need our cloaks. It felt so strange to feel this type of temperature. However, Ser Davos said winter takes longer to linger in these parts. If not, Dragonmount provided warmth to these lands.
I can sense a presence of magic here. But it was dormant as if only its essence could be felt. Another source of magic could be felt, one associated with the Red Woman. Ser Davos reminded me that Stannis Baratheon was Lord of Dragonstone. There, Melisandre stayed, performing her blood magic.
Jon sent a raven to inform them we had arrived and were awaiting further instructions. We did not want them to think we were any of Cersei's navy. After an hour, a raven returned, stating the docks were occupied with Daenerys's navy and that they requested we row in.
Two boats were set up, and Skadi was given a ride this time. At first, I thought we had to leave her on the ship due to the rough water, for I did not feel comfortable for her to swim in these waters. Yet Jon ordered a second rowboat to be set up. I was surprised, yet Jon knew how important Skadi was. Everyone got on the boats and rowed to Dragonstone to the nearest beach.
Along the black sand beach was the welcoming company. Men in leathers and furs, who I assume were the Dothraki. Men in black armor were the Unsullied. Followed by a woman and a short man. The woman was different, none I had seen before, with dark skin, amber eyes, and wirily hair. The short man was different, a dwarf with dark blond hair, a trimmed beard, and green eyes. What stood out other than his height was the scar that went across his face.
Dwarves were not common in the Free Folk. A child born doesn't survive the survival year in the conditions the tribes live in. If not, the father gives a mercy kill to spare the child from the brutal lands. So, seeing a dwarf was surprising.
Although, I think the dwarf was surprised to see Skadi, as the direwolf jumped off the boat to make it easy as everyone got off when reaching shallow waters to push the rowboats in. Skadi stood by my side as the Dothraki drew their weapons, yet the black she-wolf remained calm.
The woman spoke in a language ordering the men to sheath their weapons.
"The Bastard of Winterfell," The dwarf greeted.
"The Dwarf of Casterly Rock," Jon replied back.
They stared at each other until both gave a smirk. Stepping forward, they shook hands. Thus, I assume this tiny man was Lord Tyrion.
"I believe we last saw each other atop the Wall," Lord Tyrion said.
"You were pissing off the edge if I remember right," Jon jested. "Picked up some scars along the road."
"It's been a long road, but we're both still here," Lord Tyrion agreed, then stared at Ser Davos and me, "I'm Tyrion Lannister."
"Davos Seaworth," Ser Davos said, shaking the dwarf's hand.
"Ah, the Onion Knight," Tyrion noted. "We fought on opposite sides at the Battle of Blackwater Bay. "
"Unluckily for me," Ser Davos said.
Tyrion nodded and looked at me, "And you are, my lady?"
"Imogen," I said.
"Just Imogen?" he asked.
I glance at Jon, unsure if I should address my Southern name or not. Jon gave a slight shake so as not to say I was a Stark.
"Daughter of the Magnar Fenrir of the Dires and Boudica Priestess of Lunar Haven," I added.
Lord Tyrion's green eyes examined me as I wore my attire, with the hard leather vest and chainmail on top. Until his eyes linger on my neck. Staring at my neck. I mentally cursed for not covering my maiden mark.
Lord Tryion took a deep breath and gestured to his female companion, "Missandei is the Queen's most trusted advisor. "
She nodded, "Welcome to Dragonstone. Our Queen knows it is a long journey. She appreciates the efforts you have made on her behalf. If you wouldn't mind handing over your weapons."
Jon looked at Ser Davos, then at me, all of us hesitant about it. I did not want to hand over Dark Sister. Ser Davos, who had more political experience, slightly nodded as he removed his sword from his belt.
"Of course," Jon accepted as he took Longclaw.
The Dothraki walked closer to us. As Jon and his men handed over their weapons, Jon hesitantly handed over Longclaw. One Dothraki came over, giving a smirk. Skadi gave a growl, a warning not to come closer. I clenched my fist as I struggled to remove Dark Sister. The Dothraki scowled, lifting his curved blade. Jon rushed over, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Trust me," Jon whispered in Old Tongue.
I inhaled sharply as I finally removed the scabbard and handed it to the Dothraki man. He then eyed my dirk on my hip. Glaring, I removed my dirk as well and gave it to him. The Dothraki smirked as he confiscated my weapons. I was thankful that I left my spear on the ship.
Jon gave a reassuring squeeze before pulling away. The tension grew when the Dothraki took our boats away.
"Please, this way," Missandei insisted.
Having no choice, we followed Missandei and Lord Tyrion to the castle. Jon and Skadi stayed close to me.
Ser Davos walked over to Missandei, "Where are you from? I can't place the accent."
"I was born on the Island of Naath," Missandei answered.
"Ah. I hear it's beautiful down there. Palm trees and butterflies. Haven't been, myself." Ser Davos complimented.
Missandei merely smiled as she walked ahead. Jon and I caught up with the older knight. As he leans closer to us.
"This place has changed," Ser Davos murmured.
Jon and I didn't know if we should consider that comment bad.
A part of me wished I had stayed back in Winterfell.
.o0o.
Jon's POV
On the journey up, they reached the steps. Lord Tyrion asked Jon to walk beside him as they climbed up. At first, there was silence, yet Tyrion had many questions he wanted to ask Jon, primarily about his ex-wife.
"And Sansa? I hear she's alive and well?" Tyrion asked.
"She is," Jon answered.
"Does she miss me terribly?" Tyrion sarcastically asked.
Jon gave him a look.
Tyrion realized his mistake and explained himself, "A sham marriage. And unconsummated."
Jon felt uncomfortable about this, "I didn't ask."
"Well, it was. Wasn't. Anyway… she's much smarter than she lets on."
"She's starting to let on."
"Good," Tyrion said. "At some point, I want to hear how a Night's Watch recruit became King in the North?"
"As long as you tell me how a Lannister became Hand to Daenerys Targaryen," Jon countered.
"A long and bloody tale," Tyrion said. "To be honest, I was drunk for most of it."
"My bannermen think I'm a fool for coming here," Jon sighed, eyes scanning the area for any threat. Ser Davos and Missandei were there, with Imogen, while Skadi guarded their backs. Yet the Dothraki followed.
"Of course they do," Tyrion agreed. "If I were your Hand, I would have advised against it. A general rule of thumb, Stark men don't fare well when they travel south."
"True…" Jon said. "But I'm not a Stark."
There was a loud screeching. Suddenly, a black and red dragon came swooping down. The Northmen hunched down, nearly smacked by a dragon. Skadi growled and barked, covering Imogen and Ser Davos. Jon braced himself as he fell on the ground, then looked up, seeing Targaryen supporters unfazed.
Jon looked up, bewildered and amazed at seeing a dragon. He thought the dragon thing was a hoax to scare off the Westerosi. Now Jon could see three dragons flying around the castle. The massive one was black with red undertones, followed by a golden bronze dragon the same size as the green one. The Seven Kingdoms thought the dragons were extinct for over a hundred years. The King in the North couldn't believe his eyes. They were massive beasts.
Jon adjusted himself to see Ser Davos glancing over his shoulder, Missandei standing there with a smile. The Naathi found it amusing to see Jon, Imogen, and Ser Davos shaken by these marvelous creatures. Skadi continued to cover the two before Imogen spoke in Old Tongue to calm the Direwolf. The black she-wolf was bristling, glaring at the sky, muzzle pulled back, exposing her canines.
That seemed to intimidate the Dothraki, but Imogen got up, caressing the she-wolf to calm down. After a moment, Skadi was calm. Imogen took a deep breath, helping Ser Davos up. Jon was baffled by what he had seen as the dragons flew over the fortress.
Tyrion came over, offering a hand to Jon.
"I'd say you get used to them…" Tyrion said, helping Jon up. "But you never really do. Come, their mother is waiting for you."
What the hell did I get myself into? Jon thought, looking at Davos, who had the same thought.
.o0o.
Imogen's POV
It took a moment to calm Skadi down, for she took the dragon's presence as a predatory threat. She hovered over me as we continued to walk up the winding steps towards the keep. I have seen dragons in visions of the past with the Three-Eyed Raven, but to see them in person…. literally took my breath away.
We reached the castle, and more Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers were there. Missandei came over to me.
"I'm afraid your wolf will have to stay here," she said.
Skadi growled. I did not feel comfortable leaving her out here with the Dothraki. Jon seemed to notice this, ordering his men to stay close. I relaxed a little and told Skadi to protect the men. She whimpered but nodded.
Missandei gave a reassuring smile as she led us through Dragonstone.
The fortress was carved into the stone, and sculptures of dragons were entwined in the wall. The main light source was the massive open windows, which exposed the details that were once Valyrian. Missandei and Lord Tyrion took us through the many corridors to massive doors etched into dragon scales.
Two Unsullied Soldiers opened the doors, allowing us in. Like all parts of the keep, the throne room was carved out of stone, a cross between mason work and natural design. Along the walls, spread out was the Dothraki. Up ahead, steps were a formation of lava rocks that had been chiseled in the middle to create a throne. And on that throne was a woman.
A young woman with bright purple eyes, pale skin, and long, pale silver-white hair is tied in an elaborate braid design. She has the beauty I have seen in the Targaryens. She is similar to Bryden, except she is a pure Valyrian. She is slender and wears black attire, a silver chain across her chest, and a red cape over her shoulder.
Lord Tyrion and Missandei made their way to the steps, facing us. As Missandei spoke:
"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains."
And I thought being called the Wildling Huntress was enough of a title, I thought.
Jon glanced at Ser Davos, wondering what he should do.
"This is Jon Snow," Ser Davos introduced. "He's King in the North."
There was an awkward silence.
"Thank you for traveling so far, my lord," Daenerys greeted, her voice soft and gentle. "I hope the seas weren't too rough."
"The winds were kind, Your Grace," Jon replied.
"Apologies," Ser Davos interrupted. "I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know, but Jon Snow is King in the North, Your Grace. He's not a lord."
Her purple eyes focused on Ser Davos, "Forgive me…"
"Your Grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth," Lord Tyrion informed. "And Lady Imogen of Lunar Haven."
Lady? I thought bitterly.
"Forgive me, Ser Davos," Daenerys spoke up. "I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn I read the last King in the North was Torrhen Stark, who bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon Targaryen. In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. Or do I have my facts wrong?"
"I wasn't there, Your Grace." Ser Davos said.
"No, of course not," Daenerys mannerly replied. "But still, an oath is an oath. And perpetuity means – what does perpetuity mean, Lord Tyrion?"
"Forever," Tyrion answered.
"Forever," Daenerys repeated with a slight smile. "So, I assume, my lord …you're here to bend the knee."
I ground my teeth, noting that this woman was selfish. She was like Stannis, demanding people bend the knee to satisfy themselves with power.
"I am not," Jon announced.
Daenerys tilted her head with a smug smirk, "Oh. Well, that is unfortunate. You travel all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?"
"Break faith? Your father burned my grandfather alive. He burned my uncle alive," he added. "He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms –"
"My father…was an evil man." She interrupted. "On behalf of House Targaryen…I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. And I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father."
Is that all she is going to say? Asking for forgiveness and demanding the North pledge fealty.
"Our two houses were allies for centuries, and those were the best centuries the Seven Kingdoms have ever known," She continued. " Centuries of peace and with a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow. Honor the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee, and I will name you Warden of the North. Together, we will save this country from those who would destroy it."
Jon paused, contemplating her words. After a moment, he looked at me and said, "You're right. You're not guilty of your father's crimes. And I'm not beholden to my ancestor's vows."
The gentleness she expressed a moment ago hardened with a scowl. "Then, why are you here?"
"Because I need your help, and you need mine," He answered.
She glanced at Lord Tyrion and then faced us. "Did you see three dragons flying overhead when you arrived?"
"I did." He answered.
"And did you see the Dothraki, all of whom have sworn to kill for me?" Daenerys asked
"They're hard to miss." He somewhat sarcastically replied.
"But still, I need your help?" she asked.
"Not to defeat Cersei," Ser Davos answered. "You could storm King's Landing tomorrow, and the city would fall. Hell, we almost took it, and we didn't have dragons."
"Almost," Lord Tyrion casually reminded.
"But you haven't stormed King's Landing. Why not?" Jon said. "The only reason I can see is that you don't want to kill thousands of innocent people. It's the fastest way to win the war, but you won't do it, which means, at the very least, you're better than Cersei."
Daenerys arched a brow, "Still, that doesn't explain why I need your help."
"Because right now, you and I and Cersei and everyone else, we're children playing a game, screaming that the rules aren't fair," Jon explained.
"You told us you liked this man," Daenerys told Tyrion.
"I do," Lord Tyrion confirmed.
"In the time since he's met us, he's refused to call me Queen, he refused to bow, and now he's calling me a child," Daenerys said, almost sounding like whining.
"I believe he's calling all of us children," Lord Tyrion said. "Figure of speech."
This woman acts like one. She does not see anyone else as her equal. Things have changed in the last two decades, and she expects all to be the same in traditions when the Targaryens ruled. The North fought hard for its independence. The North deserves its freedom. From someone who calls themselves the Breaker of Chains, she is…damn it, what is that word….
A hypocrite.
Jon stepped forward, irritated, "Your Grace, everyone you know will die before winter's over if we don't defeat the enemy to the north."
"As far as I can see, you are the enemy to the north," She countered.
"I'm not your enemy," Jon defended. "The dead are the enemy."
"The dead," she mockingly said. "Is that another figure of speech?"
Unable to hold it anymore, I said, "The Army of the Dead is marching south as we speak."
"The Army of the dead?" Lord Tyrion asked loftily.
My outburst caught Daenerys's attention, "Lady Imogen of Lunar Haven."
I stared at her.
"I've never heard of Lunar Haven," she said.
"Because it is far north, beyond the Wall," I informed.
She stared at me, and her purple eyes stared at my attire. My hair was in braids, and I had my warrior paints on. It would have clearly indicated what I was if I had been in my furs.
"You're a wildling," She announced.
I ground my teeth and took a deep breath, "I and my people prefer the term Free Folk. I am a Dire from the Dire Clan, one of the oldest clans in the True North. The blood of the First Men runs in my veins. For thousands of years, my ancestors fought a greater enemy that is beyond royals and territories. They defeated him, yet the Night King has been tormenting the True North for the last three hundred years."
"The Night King?" She asked.
"You make think of me as a savage. A barbarian from the stories that my people did in order to survive, but I speak the truth. The Army of the Dead is real. The White Walkers are real. The Night King is real. I've fought them. If they get past the Wall and you southerners are squabbling amongst yourselves…" I said, stepping forward until the Dothraki stepped forward, drawing their weapons, and I stopped. "Then we're all dead. "
A hand rested on my shoulder as Jon spoke, "She speaks the truth. I've seen them."
Silence engrossed the room as all eyes were on us.
Daenerys stared at us with a neutral expression, yet her voice spoke authority, "I was born in Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it." She stood up as she made her way towards us, her hands clasped together. "We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me. I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled.
"Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any gods, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me."
She stood before us and said, "I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will."
"So, look me in the eye and tell me what you proclaim is true?"
"You'll be ruling over a graveyard if we don't defeat the Night King," Jon promised, lowering his hand off my shoulder.
The expectation that her words would claim Jon's support faltered. Her purple eyes stare at him with a mask, yet they burn with fury. There was no point in forging an alliance. She wanted power and to do whatever it took to claim all of Westeros.
"The war against my sister has already begun," Lord Tyrion said. "You can't expect us to halt hostilities and join you in fighting whatever you saw beyond the Wall."
Ser Davos stepped forward. "You don't believe them. I understand that. It sounds like nonsense. But if destiny has brought Daenerys Targaryen back to our shores, it has also made Jon Snow King in the North. You were the first to bring Dothraki to Westeros? He is the first to make allies of Wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He was named King in the North, not because of his birthright. He has no birthright. He's a damn bastard. All those hard sons of bitches chose him as their leader because they believed in him. All those things you don't believe in, he faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people. He risked his life for his people. He took a knife in the heart for his people. He gave his own—"
Jon gave Ser Davos an expression to not get there. Death was a sensitive subject for Jon, especially being murdered by the Night's Watch. Daenerys stared at Lord Tyrion to explain this. Yet the dwarf could not answer the silent question.
"If we don't put aside our enmities and band together, we will die," Ser Davos finished. "And then it doesn't matter whose skeleton sits on the Iron Throne."
"If it doesn't matter, then you might as well kneel," Lord Tyrion insisted. "Swear your allegiance to Queen Daenerys, help her defeat my sister, and together, our armies will protect the North."
"There's no time for that!" Jon snapped. "There's no time for any of this! While we stand here, debating –"
"It takes no time to bend the knee," Lord Tyrion reasoned. "Pledge your sword to her cause."
"And why would I do that?" Jon bellowed and glared at Daenerys. "I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I don't know you. As far as I can tell, your claim to the throne rests entirely on your father's name, and my own father fought to overthrow the Mad King. The lords of the North placed their trust in me to lead them, and I will continue to do so as well as I can."
She stared at him, then looked at me, "And you, Lady Imogen?"
"My people don't kneel," I added.
"That's fair," Daenerys murmured. "It's also fair to point out that I'm the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. By declaring yourself King of the northern most kingdom, you are an open rebellion."
Jon remained silent.
However, I will not be silent, "Then the Breaker of Chains wants chains."
Lord Tyrion made a quiet gasp as he stared at Daenerys. She snapped her head to look at me. I can sense she has been touched by the ancient magic of Valyria. But there was something off about her. Something dark. Yet, saying those words, her eyes glistened slightly as if my words had taken offense.
Suddenly, the doors opened, and a plumb bald man rushed over and went to Daenerys. He stood by her side, leaning into her ear and whispering, "Your Grace, please dismiss your guests. I have grave news."
Daenerys tried to keep her composure as the bald man pulled away. She then addressed us, "You must forgive my manners. You'll all be tired after your long journey. We'll have baths drawn for you and supper sent to your rooms."
She then spoke another language. It was not Common Tongue or Valyrian. The way she stared at the Dothraki man, I can only assume, was his native language. The man nodded as he gestured for the other Dothraki in the chamber to approach us. They motioned for us to follow while Daenerys made her way to the Stone Throne.
"Am I your prisoner?" Jon challenged.
Daenerys stopped to face him, "Not yet."
Jon guided Ser Davos and me out with the Dothraki with nothing else to say.
It was a mistake to come here.
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