authorsnote: this was originally going in a completely different direction, but then I decided some politics were needed before anything else
do let me know what you think. I am lifting some from HOD, but adding in Jon and so changing bits here and there, that will be more apparent next chapter with a bigggg twist
also, I've been getting some hate on this story, including the odd death threat, and a kms instruction, two things 1) chill tf out, its fanfic, it aint that serious, 2) don't like it? don't fucking read it :x - also thank you to any kind commentators, your reviews always hugely appreciated and far outweigh the bad!
songrecs: You Win Or You Die - GOT Season 1
'The Iron Throne will go to the man who has the strength to seize it'
- King Maegor Targaryen, known as 'The Cruel'
-x-
Come morning, Jon realized politics and scheming in Kings Landing did expand beyond the Council Chambers and Great Hall.
It was exhausting, always having to keep his guard up, having to bite his tongue when people bowed to him and asked him favors, when he wanted to tell them all to stop being deferential, as he was no different than them, but no he wouldn't intervene to give one man a tax-break or another more land.
It was tiring as Ladies batted their eyelashes, but Alicent seemed to be avoiding him. All of it was exhausting, as he avoided Viserys, still wanting to ignore his brother here, who'd wronged the family, his family now, in a way he was not sure could be forgiven. As he tried to offer Rhaenyra comfort in her grief, but it was never something he'd excelled at.
Two days of that, sleepless nights as he heard again and again, 'Jon no!' 'Jon please!'
And then the Small Council met again, and he sat opposite Otto who gave him a look that unnerved him. But then Otto always unnerved him, though he felt something different today as he requested a steeped tea to help give him some much-needed energy, placing his marble sphere in its position as the meeting started.
Something felt off.
"To business of the realm then" Viserys began, he looked grieved still, tired, heavy shadow under his eyes. Jon would have felt a stirring of pity, even did a touch, but it was muffled by remembering Aemma's screams, by glancing to the side, Rhaenyra wasn't present and Jon raised an eyebrow at that, but remembered seeing her arm in arm with Alicent the day before, dark circles under her eyes, Alicents wouldn't even meet his.
He couldn't summon his pity, too exhausted from it all, his own failing, Rhaenyras grief and the politics weighing heavy.
He didn't know for sure why he'd been sent back here, he liked to think politics had nothing to do with it, but he was no fool, he knew politics was a part of winning wars, of keeping the Targaryen family in-tact, and winning the war meant keeping dragons alive, it meant stopping Westeros spiraling into in-fighting, that meant politics.
"The Stepstones?" Lyonel Strong began, "When does Prince Jaeherys leave?"
"Just Jon" Jon replied almost without thinking, using the nickname, but he nodded, "I should leave soon, the Stepstones need sorting, and I could use with some sea air" Sea air wasn't the same as the Wall, but he wanted anything over this City, to breath away from it for moment, physically and mentally.
"First, we have another matter to clear up I fear your, Grace" Otto pressed in, the Hand badge gleaming on his chest allowed him to, "Before Jon might leave, we must determine the succession" He said gently, though Jon knew that was planned. "These recent tragedies have left you without an Heir"
He levelled something close to a glare at the Hand, and Jon reminded himself not to underestimate him, he was a consummate schemer, and a good politician, Jon knew his motives, thought of Alicent trembling in his arms and felt a flash of anger, but managed to hold his tongue. He'd dealt with men like Otto Hightower before, and worse, and he knew how to control his emotions.
"The King has an Heir, my Lord Hand" Lord Corlys spoke up sharply, but Otto pressed on, and Jon wondered where this was going, and yet he did not speak, not yet, better not to tip his hand.
Jon knew, from many points in life, sometimes it was better to observe before getting involved.
"Despise how difficult this time is your Grace, I feel it is important the succession be firmly in place for the stability of the realm" Lord Otto pressed on.
"Now is hardly the time" The King spoke, and though Jon agreed from an emotional perspective, he knew, begrudgingly, from a logical one, Otto was right.
Many times, as Lord Commander, Jon had been forced to consider the practical, the logical, before he thought of people's feelings, before he thought of what people would think. Yes, he'd always had to think of how people would react, how to control those reactions, but primarily, he had, had to do what was best.
He thought of Mace's son, of Gilly's heartbreak, and felt something in him tighten, some decisions, hard as they were, had to be made.
And Jon knew, as snakelike and self-focused as he was, Lord Otto was right, in that this decision had to be made.
Currently Daemon was next in the line of succession, and yet, Jon knew it wasn't that simple, not as the conversations continued.
"The succession is already set, by precedent and law" Lord Lyonel spoke next, though Jon noted something in his tone. He glanced across from himself; Daemon was not present, and Jon wondered, a quick glance at Otto and back, whether that was deliberate.
"Shall we say his name?" Lord Corlys interjected, glanced at Jon who showed nothing back, perhaps he expected Jon to defend his brother, and Jon would if necessary, but for the moment he remained quiet, for the moment he observed.
"Daemon Targaryen"
"If Daemon were to remain the uncontested Heir, it may destabilize the realm" Lord Beesbury spoke next, and Jon hardly disagreed, still he kept quiet.
No one was saying, what he knew they were all thinking, if Daemon were passed over as Heir, the next in line sat quiet and brooding to the Kings right hand.
"The realm or the Council you mean?" Lord Corlys scoffed, and Jon knew none of them had the right of it.
Daemon would he knew, not be a total disaster of a King, but he also knew he would not listen to a Council, he would not do as told, and he most certainly would not do as this Council told him.
Jon wasn't sure where he stood, he didn't have to be King, nor did he necessarily want to, to make sure the Dance never happened, to prepare Westeros for the future, but he knew it would be a hell of a lot easier.
And Jon was not unambitious, he felt something, in his chest, remembering his time as Lord Commander, the pride, the good he'd done, the ability to decide, remembered, but remained quiet here. He could not speak now without seeming like he was campaigning.
He glanced at his brother here, the King looked tired, and Jon wondered what he was thinking. Jon remembered Aemma speaking to him of Dragonstone and needing to take a wife, wondered if that had been a private conversation between the King and Queen, questioning the next in line, questioning the Heir, though it had never gone public.
"No one can know what Daemon would do were he King, but no one can doubt his ambition" Otto continued, and Jon heard the concern in his voice, was it concern for the realm? Or concern for his position, which they both knew would be untenable were Daemon king. "We do know he has an army of Goldcloaks, fiercely loyal to him and only him"
"An army you gave him" Jon interjected, working somewhat to sound not disinterested but stoic, unmoved, even as the situation broiled around him, as though on a pot on the flame waiting to bubble over.
"Indeed Otto" The King jumped in, and Jon tried not to be annoyed, he didn't need the King to fight his battles, nor did he want him to, "You said as Master of Laws he was a tyrant, as Master of Coin a spendthrift, beggar the realm, putting Daemon in Command of the City Watch was your solution"
"A half measure your Grace, Daemon should be far away from this court" Jon raised an eyebrow as Otto said that, clearly taking down any attempt to pretend Daemon shouldn't be here but in a reduced role.
"Daemon is my brother, my blood" The King jumped in with fury, which Jon admired, the Targaryen commitment to family, though he thought of Aemma again, said commitment didn't save everyone, and Jon frowned at the thought.
His family now, he was apart of it, and even he couldn't save Aemma.
"He will have his place at my court" The King insisted.
"A place at court yes your Grace" The Grand Maester said, "But if the Gods were to visit further tragedy on you your Grace, by design or accident…"
"By design" Even Jon winced at that one, this was why he preferred the Old Gods, no men to interpret their thoughts, trees were hardly so tactless.
"What are you saying?" The King said harshly, and yet Jon remained quiet, not tipping his hand, nor would he defend Daemon, who by all accounts would be an awful King, and Jon knew then, perhaps he did have to try and stop Daemon being next in line, they couldn't have a tyrant in place when Jon was trying to save the realm.
Gods his shoulders felt heavy with the weight of what he had to do, any load he could lift off them would be welcome.
"Are you saying my brother would murder me?" The King's voice rose, "Take my crown? Are you?!"
"Please Daemon has ambition yes, but not for the Throne" The King spoke again, and Jon knew, for once he agreed with the look in Ottos eye, in this the King was completely wrong, "He lacks the patience for it"
"No man patient or no, would turn down absolute power" Jon interjected, "None" He said with a look at his brother, a flicker of concern quick in his eye then, "None"
"Indeed" Otto said with a nod, Jon shot him a glare, again he remembered Alicent sobbing as she begged him to know she hadn't wanted to come to him, like some cheap ploy, he also frankly just didn't like the man, and he'd never trust a Southern Lord.
"Under such circumstances, the Gods would understand for the King to name a successor" The Grand Maester said, more delicately this time, and Jon tensed.
No one need say anything more, as all eyes turned to him.
This was different Jon knew, than what history had originally painted, of Rhaenyra, being such an unsure choice as a woman, this wasn't the King picking between a tyrannical brother and a daughter he'd have to train and try to get the realm to accept. This wasn't the case of the succession being completely unclear.
Jon was here, Jon an alternative to Prince Daemon, well liked, of two kingdoms (he presumed due to his looks, purple eyed yes, but dark haired, despite research he still wasn't sure who his parents, bar Prince Baelon, were supposed to be in this time, he could hardly ask someone to check on his behalf, lest he look mad), strong, young, unmarried and so able to make a good match.
This was very different to the first turn of history, and Jon kept his face as impassive as he could in the light of that, in the light of what could happen.
And Jon knew, deep down, what he wanted to happen.
"There is precedent" The Maester spoke with a nod. Jon wondered if they'd all met before, like Sam had done when campaigning for him to be Lord Commander, whether they'd worked this out.
Jon just wondered why Otto was nodding, why would Otto see him in place instead of Daemon? Did he dislike Daemon that much? Surely he knew Jon would not keep him as Hand?
But then he thought of Alicent, thought of her in his arms, of how he'd wanted to keep her there.
Ahh, now it made sense.
His glare hardened.
"To pass over a healthy well brother?" Lord Lyonel interjected, "Hardly a precedent to do so. Daemon is the Heir, not Jaeherys"
"Daemon would be Magor come again!" Otto spoke furiously, "Or worse. He is impulsive and violent; it is the duty of this council to protect the King and the realm from him" In this Jon believed him, Daemon had smiles for him, and was family, but Jon also knew trusting him with the crown would be a mistake.
"I'm sorry your Grace, but that is the truth as I see it, and I know that others here agree" Otto looked at him then too, and Jon didn't flinch. Damn him.
"I will not be made to choose between my brothers" The King interjected furiously, looking at Jon then.
He still remained silent, there was no place for him to talk now, without either betraying Daemon, or betraying his own interests.
His own needs for the realm.
"You might not need to your Grace' Lord Corlys jumped in with a rogue smile that spoke of a man knowing he was saying something outlandish, "Others may have a claim"
Lord Lyonel laughed then, "Your wife Lord Corlys? The Queen who never was?"
"My wife has an extremely strong claim, and she already has a male Heir" Lord Corlys said back furiously, and Jon knew it would devolve soon.
"Just a moment ago you announced your support for Daemon!" Otto mocked.
"If we cannot agree on an Heir-" Lord Lyonel next, and Jon had to speak.
"Stop" He said, just as the King too felt like he had to interject.
"My wife and son are dead!" The Kings words drowned out Jons quieter command, "I will not sit here and suffer crows that come to feast on their corpses" Jon nodded though bit his tongue hard, hard enough to taste blood, to not say something, thinking of Aemma.
'Jon no!' 'Jon please!'
Thankfully the King stormed out before Jon could say anything of how his wife had been butchered by his command, by how Jon could never forgive him, and only had to bite his tongue again, blood welling on the surface, to stop himself telling Rhaenyra.
As the door swung shut, Otto spoke.
"You know we are right" It was directed at Jon then, who whipped his glare upward, now was his time to speak.
"I won't betray my brother" Was all he could say, for he couldn't, not like this, not as the King had left, not as he glanced, and swore he saw a flash of movement behind one of the wooden panels in the room, and wondered whether said brother had heard everything, still Jon acted as though he'd seen nothing and continued.
"You'll betray the realm" Otto insisted.
"I will do what is right for the realm" He said, and then went quiet, as others began to leave though, Jon swept around the table, and stopped next to Otto, and whispered, "And you do right by your daughter, or next time, I'll ensure she does not suffer your commands again" That was all the threat he could give, before he stormed out of the council following his brother, very much feeling the urge to whack his sword into a training dummy, over and over and over.
Jon unsurprisingly, saw Daemon briefly, as he made his way to the training yard, and Jon knew from where he'd emerged, a smirk playing at his lips, where he'd come from.
They shared a nod, Daemon looked like he might say something, and Jon wondered again not if he'd heard, but how much, before Jon spoke first.
"Long night?" He asked gruffly, as he glanced at Daemon who looked tired, but not by grief. He also wore loose clothes, hardly Princley in fashion, Jon didn't care about that, but Jon knew Daemon did.
"Gods" Daemon mocked, "You were only in the North for less than five years turn and yet you sound like one of those savages"
"You look like a savage yourself, hardly a Prince" Jon mocked with a touch of bite, Targaryen or not here, he wouldn't hear a word against the North, even as the ache for it dulled, he missed it everyday.
Daemon just laughed though and clasped him on his shoulder.
"So, are you planning to overthrow me?" Daemon asked casually, nodding his head back in the direction of the Council chambers.
"You overthrow yourself" Jon said gently, even if they didn't know each other well, Daemon was family, Jon had to remember that, and remember he was a warrior, who might be needed, Ceraxes and all for any battles to come, but even Jon knew he couldn't be King. "I wouldn't need to if I wanted to"
"Do you want to?" Daemon threw back, he sounded more controlled then, almost sincere, and Jon knew he couldn't flinch.
"I never did" It was true, he remembered finding out the truth, way back in the future, of knowing the Throne was his by right, but being happy in the North, happy surrounded by snow, and freefolk, Northerners, his home, never once had he lusted for the South, content and happy with the Kingship of his Mothers people, his people.
"No man patient or no, would turn down absolute power" Daemon repeated back to him, and Jon offered a nod and a smile, though he betrayed nothing, and thanked being Lord Commander for that.
"Perhaps I should have said most men" He offered, though it wasn't an answer, and Daemon knew it too, even nodded, as they heard footsteps, and with a final nod, parted ways.
Only as Daemon left and Jon was alone did he untense his shoulders.
Another Council meeting followed the next day, and Jon reminded himself just why he couldn't underestimate the Hand of the King.
Rhaenyra was present this time, offered him a small sad smile as she poured wine for them all. Jon patted her hand as she did and her smile grew a touch.
"Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share" Otto spoke first, marbled stones in place, he stood, "Last night, Ser Daemon brought out a pleasure house on the Street of Silk, to entertain officers and friends of his"
Jon frowned, not sure where this was going, he didn't have the histories memorized.
"Daemon spoke of Baelon" Otto said, gentleness in his tone Jon knew had to be forced … or in deference to the King, Jon wasn't sure, Otto was ambitious yes, but did he want to be King himself? No, his position of Hand was all he could get to, Jon knew, as they shared a look, what his plans to be related to the Throne were.
Though Jon did wonder if Otto cared for the King, no that was too much, he was a means to an end, to power.
Jon glanced at Rhaenyra then, dressed in black, no red, as were he and Viserys, all three still in mourning. He reached a handout to his Niece, who took it eagerly, her hand damp as it gripped his, to stop her shaking.
"Styled him, the Heir for a day" Otto said, Viserys looked murderous, Rhaenyra devastated, and even Jon knew he looked ready to stand, find Daemon and strangle him.
"I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses" Otto continued, and even he seemed disgusted, "It was by all accounts … a celebration"
There was little for the Council meeting then, as it lay heavy on them, this disrespect, towards Baelon, towards Aemma, and that what drew Jons blood more than anything else.
He glanced at Rhaenyra, as a tear trickled down her cheek, and Jon felt that fury rise, felt that urge to find Daemon stronger, as he squeezed his Nieces hand.
The rest of the Council trickled out, even Rhaenyra, wiping at her tears, Viserys remained in his seat though, and Jon knew he must too, he didn't offer comfort to Viserys, he didn't deserve it, even after this, he thought of Rhaenyra who'd suffered more than anyone, hadn't even been able to say goodbye to her Mother, she was who he really felt sorry for.
"You'll have to marry" The King said simply, as though it were obvious, and Jon knew what he was expected to ask next, knew and didn't hesitate.
"Why?" He said, though he knew the answer, as Viserys stood, and turned to one of his Kingsguard.
"Summon Daemon to the Throne Room" He said and the Guard nodded, as Viserys turned back to him with a sad smile before he took a breath and composed himself.
"You'll have to marry, as you'll soon be my Heir" He said simply, before he turned and swept from the Council chamber, leaving Jon. He did turn back though.
"We'll announce it tomorrow" And then he was gone, and Jon was left alone.
Alone, Viserys went to disinherit Daemon, leaving Jon as the Heir to the Iron Throne.
The birthright he hadn't known…
But it would be his.
I enjoyed writing the little jon/daemon interaction, despite whats to come, there will be more of that.
and no, no one has worked out the twists I have planned, including the HUGE one not quite coming yet, but trust me it will come
next chapter: an announcement, or two, and a twist to do with marriage
do review if you can