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do enjoy, I loved writing this chapter, it is all unfolding...

songrecs: Don't Die With A Clean Sword - GOT Season 2

'There is no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it'

- Jon Snow to Samwell Tarly

-x-

An hour later he had bathed (because riding a dragon reminded him of how he smelled after riding on horseback and so a scrub had been necessary), dressed in black, secured Blackfyre at his hip and headed for the Small Council chamber, full of questions, but with an intention to listen more than anything.

Jon knew observation was often key to understanding one's surroundings, to learning the situation, to understanding where he fit in. He remembered when he had first joined the wildling encampment, he had been quiet, the wildlings had laughed and named him 'the brooding crow' but in reality, he had been watching, listening, and storing the information in his mind.

But he knew as much as he needed to do the same here, he would have to be an active participant too. He was a part of the Small Council; he would have to be a part of it.

At least he knew what was coming, and he knew his histories about the War in the Stepstones (the one of this time at least), knew where he could make suggestions and knew in part where Daemon Targaryen had gone wrong. He could help, he wanted to help.

This was his family after all, as strange as his circumstances were, as unsure about this as he all was, he was here now, and he was a Targaryen, with the purple eyes to match, he had to start acting like it.

He even wore a little red in his tunic this time, just a hint, but it was there.

And beyond that he had many questions he couldn't directly ask but would hope to glean answers to. What had Aemma meant when she'd suggested he'd inherit Dragonstone? The Heirs seat? Was he to be the Heir, Daemon passed over? And if so, why? He remembered seeing Daemon at the Small Council meeting, he hadn't been hostile, had he known?

And then what of Blackfyre at his hip? Was that a symbol of his place in the line of succession? Why did Viserys as King not carry it? He'd thought it was because he was no warrior, but he wondered if there was more to it than that.

Questions he needed answers to but couldn't ask, he sighed as he approached the Small Council room and they let him in, opening the heavy doors.

Jon knew for all his prodigy as a warrior, he could and had a talent for ruling as well. He remembered his time at the Wall as Lord Commander, he hadn't always been popular, but he'd been effective. He needed to be effective now, though perhaps he could try to be a little more popular.

And so, he stepped inside, Rhaenyra shot him a cheeky grin and he offered her a stern look, a 'don't-you-dare-tease-me-about-Alicent-or-I'll-tease-you-about-losing-our-race' to which she covertly stuck his tongue out at him, and he couldn't help but smile.

Family indeed.

"Brother" He turned then; to the King, to his elder brother here and nodded his head.

"Brother" It was Daemon who spoke that time, and again Jon noticed no hostility, and so Jon nodded before taking his seat, the only spare one, to the Kings left, exactly where he'd sat last time.

He noted he was next to the King, not Daemon, another indicator perhaps?

In fact, the places seemed fixed, he was in-between his two brothers, and opposite was Otto Hightower, the Hand, who offered him a blank expression, Jon matched it, his stoicism was a strength when it came to making sure his emotions couldn't be read, and he employed it readily.

He had to be careful in Kings Landing, he'd never been a sharer of his emotions, even in the North, but he had to be especially careful. He remembered something Sansa had said to him, when they'd been reunited, and talking of the threat from the South.

'We're all liars here'

She'd said that, when he'd asked her about the South, her expression had been haunted when she'd said it, but then Sansa had been, right until the end.

Back in the present (or past? Hard to organise in his head, he was trying not to think of time too much), everyone took a marble stone from their pockets and placed it into an empty space in front of them, Jon did the same, having observed it last time, the marble stone in a box in his room, he had to be more part of things here, he had to blend in.

Blend in with his purple eyes, Blackfyre at his hip, Vermithor as his dragon, and a million question, he'd sigh if it didn't draw attention to him, the Gods surely did ask a lot.

"Tell me of the realm" King Viserys began, turning to his Hand, who offered everyone around the table a glance, though Jon copped a glare, Daemon a harsher one.

Daemon just smirked; Jon's expression did not flinch; he'd dealt with far worse than Otto Hightower and scheming Southerners.

"The realm does well your Grace" Otto began, he spoke about the various regions, Jon listening intently, he paid special attention as Otto spoke of the North, and Jon kept his expression blank he felt some sadness creep over him, to hear of Cregan Stark ruling as Warden of the North, Jons home, when he was here.

Here and a Prince of House Targaryen, not King in the North, not at least as close to being a Stark as he'd ever felt, not anymore.

But would he be King here some day? King of the Seven Kingdoms? He had been Heir to it in another life, hadn't known it for most of it, but had been.

Would that be his fate here? History correcting itself?

He knew as King in the North he'd have turned it down, focused on his people, focused on Winterfell and the North, but he still felt a fizz in his blood as he thought of the Iron Throne, though of being able to be a fair and just ruler, though of that here. Thought of all the people he could help, though of it as a burden yes, but he'd never shied away from his duty, and never would. Thought of it…

Fear was his primary emotion, worry and an ever-present distaste for the South, but he'd be lying to say he didn't feel some desire.

Perhaps more than some.

"Westeros is thriving then" Viserys said with a smile, and Jon offered him one back, it was good to hear of the country doing well, though Jon knew unless he stopped war, that wouldn't last.

What a weight he had on his shoulders, and yet that had been a constant for Jon since he had left Winterfell at just sixteen namedays, he was well used to it.

"Yes, your Grace, but unfortunately, the Stepstones are not" Otto continued, he looked remorseful, but Jon could tell it was false. This man didn't care about the realm, only himself.

It was with no surprise he instantly disliked the Hand of the King, he'd read the history books, and the man in the flesh did not differ from the depiction on the page, at least not yet, Jon would have to keep an eye on him.

He thought of Alicent then, her shy smile, the scent of berries in the air; how had she been born to such a scheming snake of a man?

But then he remembered how Alicent had turned out and frowned, that was the South though, it corrupted all. He'd never like it here, he knew he'd probably not return, perhaps ever or at least for a while, and yet his heart ached for Winterfell, for summer snows and the cold whip of the wind, for home, for the North.

And yet, he thought of Alicent again, her smile, her wide-eyed look as she'd ran into him, how had she become so twisted? He had a sudden urge to save her from it, but how could he do that?

"The Triarchy continue to impose high tariffs then?" Daemon said and Otto nodded, though the two continued to glare at one another.

"Too high, it is effecting commerce heavily, makes our enemies think we cannot protect our own traders" Otto said, Jon agreed with him. "They have also started being aggressive"

"And the Sea Snake grows more and more unhappy, he has returned to Driftmark to prepare for war" It was Lyonel Strong who spoke then, one of the few good men in the room according to the histories, though Jon would have to judge that for himself.

He had to judge it all for himself, he was living in it now, he was part of it, and he didn't know how much that would change the histories, but he knew it had to be significant, and so he had to observe, judge, and learn everything a-new.

"You know my thoughts" Daemon said then with a shrug, though it struck Jon he didn't look too bothered by the prospect of war, just indifferent to the suffering of others, "It's a fools errand we haven't stepped in"

"We know how you work Daemon" Otto said with a bite, "The people of Kings Landing too, many without tongues and hands thanks to you"

"Do we not punish criminals in Kings Landing?" Daemon said back, with a scoff.

As the two squabbled Jon quickly flicked through his own thoughts, trying to remember at what point in history they were in, all the pieces adding up, he knew it had to be just before the War in the Stepstones, just before Daemon had been passed over for Heir and had struck out, just before Daemons attempts to reinsert himself, with Runestone, and then marriage to Laena Velayron.

Just before, with Aemma still alive, time was ticking out to the first of many wars this period of history saw. Though this one would be led by Daemon.

Jon glanced at his niece then, filling up cups of wine, there had been other rumours as well, around this time, of seduction, Jon scowled, he didn't care that Targaryens practiced incest, he'd protect his niece from his brother here, she'd been taken advantage of, and Jon wouldn't allow that on his watch.

He had much to do.

The squabbling continued, and Jon, more of a diplomat than many would give him credit for, but also a leader who had always been firm, but fair, and so, he spoke.

"Enough" He said sharply, he was pleased the reaction seemed to be one not of surprise, he had to learn his reputation here, hope it matched who he was, and if not, change it, but without any suspicion, "Squabbling won't fix the problems in the Stepstones"

"And what do you suggest will brother?" Daemon said harshly, "More waiting around?"

"No" Jon said, he was tempted to go himself, volunteer to fix the problem, but he couldn't go off galivanting around the Stepstones, could he? He glanced at Rhaenyra again, at the King, at Otto and his influence, thought of leaving Alicent alone to be forced into marriage with Viserys, a man old enough to be her Father, thought of how much more he needed to learn, of how he wasn't prepared to fight on dragonback, no matter how natural it had felt.

He thought of where they were in history, if Aemma still died, how Viserys and Alicent would marry less than a year after, how Daemon would try to take the Throne, how Rhaenyra would be caught in it all, alone and frightened, how he could prevent so much of that, how surely that was what he was here to do?

He was here to prevent the Dance of Dragons, he had to be. How would stopping a Triarchy and a Pirate King in the Stepstones stop that?

And yet, Jon was before anything else a Commander, and he had never been one to send others to war, to stay back in the Castle and hide.

And he knew, the Stepstones had to be dealt with, and perhaps he could stop Daemon trying to claim them, stop the strife, cut off some of the divisions before they began.

And so…

"I will go" He said, "Lord Corlys commands by the sea, but they need a Commander on land, with a dragon, Vermithor and I will command a land force, we'll hire sellswords, take some of the Targaryen army, and throw the Triarchy back to Essos" He said, firmly, his expression stoic, he didn't realise how much he was emulating his time as King in the North.

How in that moment he looked like the King presiding over the Small Council, not Viserys.

Jon was no coward, he'd never ask men to fight when he wouldn't, and he didn't trust Daemon, especially as his brother raised an eyebrow at him, he didn't trust anyone in this room, except perhaps Rhaenyra, but even he had to protect her first.

"Jon" Viserys spoke then, "The triarchy have funded sellswords, pirates, they talk of a Pirate King"

"The Crab Eater" Daemon interrupted, "He stakes men to the shore, so they get eaten by the crabs, but he is just a pirate"

"Just a pirate sinking Velayron ships and killing Westerosi sellswords" Otto said firmly.

"As much as I hate to admit it" Daemon grinned then, "Jon is the best in the Kingdom with a blade, and a Targaryen" Daemon said, and there it was, 'closer to gods than men…', "Some peasant pirate is no match for him"

"I will drive them out" Jon said, "I'll need gold and men, but I will do it, and then we reinforce the Stepstones" He knew they'd failed in that last time, only the Sea Snake had done so, giving him far too much power, especially if Jon couldn't prevent a war, "We hold them to ensure our shipping lanes are safe"

"Brother" Viserys said, "This will be a huge undertaking, the Triarchy may react, the Free Cities too, you are needed here, as my Master of War…"

Another nugget of information, "As your Master of War that is exactly where I should be" Jon found it funny he was fighting for something he didn't really want to do, but he knew this had to be dealt with, and he'd never ever sit in a Castle Commanding, leaving men to the battlefield he wasn't willing to stand besides, "Commanding"

"You should be here strategizing" Viserys insisted. "And the Free Cities…"

"I will not send men to war if I do not stand beside them" Jon said, firmly. "And the Free Cities cannot be allowed free reign"

"Or at least be flying overhead" Daemon said with a smirk, and yet there was a glint of annoyance in his eye, was he annoyed? "I should go too; the war will be wrapped up in month with two Targaryens leading it"

"No" Viserys said, "I cannot risk my two only heirs" Jon noted he referred to them both as heirs, had the line of succession not been decided?

There was a pause then, a heavy one.

"Jon should be the one to go" Otto interjected quickly, evidently he did not want Daemon taking any glory, "He is your Master of War, and Daemon is the Leader of the Goldcloaks, who reside in Kings Landing" Otto said in a clipped tone, and he shared another glare with Daemon who opened his mouth to protest before Viserys spoke.

"Jon you will go" Viserys said, "Go and reconquer the Stepstones" He nodded, "And return them to Westeros, tell us any gold and men you will need and you will have them"

"I will not fail you brother" Jon said with a nod, and then he stood, nodded, and went to leave, there were many preparations to complete…

"Jon wait" He paused, turned back, "You will have to wait a week" Viserys said quickly, "We have the tourney for my son to be born and Aemma is due to give birth within the week, once I have my son in my hands then you can go"

Jon's eyes widened but he quickly nodded, and then turned away, his cloak, Crow black billowing behind him, as he left, shared a small smile with Rhaenyra who grinned, but had no idea…

That was where they were in history then.

Just a week out from Aemmas potential death, and he realised, he'd avoided somehow Daemon making his play for the Stepstones, he'd missed Rhaenyra being crowned Heir, he'd upended things already. Already so much was changed.

But what would happen now? If history followed, Aemma and Baelon died, if he was already planning to go to the Stepstones, what would Daemon do?

And who would be named Heir?

He supposed, as he walked to his rooms, hand on Blackfyre, he maybe already knew, but would shortly find out if he was right.

He hoped he didn't, he thought of Aemma laughing and eating cake, but he felt a creeping sensation up his neck, that he had been placed here, not to be a third son in a Targaryen line, but for some other reason, to prevent the Dance of Dragons yes, but he just felt it was more than that. Were certain points set in history? Was Aemma destined to die and then leave a gap?

And who would fill it?

'Go back and make things right my Prince'

'Make things right, son of the Gods'

'Make things right, son of the Dragon'

He thought of what he would need to do to stop a succession crisis, if he were named Heir, it wouldn't just be about him accepting and things moved, no there would be more than that, so much more.

He had to be ready.

And the weight pushed harder, right on his shoulders, but once more he knew he had to bear it.

What other choice did he have?

ooooooo

one long chapter, a small council meeting and decisions, but trust me there will be more twists next chapter, the Heirs tourney, Aemma and more...

also, really key to note I am having to slightly move some stuff around in terms of timelines, they are not mistakes, I've just nudged some stuff around so I don't have to do time jumps (which I hate).

I hope you enjoyed, do review if you can

see you soon