Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.

A/N: I am on a roll! Two days in a row of posting. My hyper-fixation is on overdrive. Enjoy!

Chapter 62: A Question of Honor.

Jon's POV

Jon knew he made a mistake. Part of him wished to be neutral and accept Cersei's terms. A silent bargain that the North shall be its own independent kingdom, with him as the king. Yet, it did not seem right. There was a personal reason why he stood to support Daenerys. Knowing Daenerys will have collateral from the dragons and her men fighting in the Great War. He only thought it would be fitting to lend support after the Great War.

However, as Cersei left, retracting the truce, Jon knew he had messed up. All eyes were on him. The Lannisters were gone except for their guards, who gathered at the center of the platform. Ser Davos came over to Jon

"I wish you hadn't done that," Ser Davos muttered.

"I'm grateful for your loyalty," Daenerys said. "But my dragon died so that we could be here. If it's all for nothing, then he died for nothing. "

"I know!" Jon exclaimed.

"I'm pleased you respect our Queen and the alliance," Tyrion said, getting everyone's attention. "I would have advised it had you asked. But have you ever considered learning how to lie every now and then? Just a bit?"

"I'm not going to swear an oath I can't uphold," Jon said, controlling his anger. "Talk about my father if you want, tell me that's the attitude that got him killed. But when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won't help us in this fight."

"That is indeed a problem," Tyrion said. "The more immediate problem is that we're fucked."

"Any ideas as to how we might change that state of affairs?" Ser Davos asked.

Tyrion looked at the direction of the Red Keep, "Only one. Everyone stays here, and I go and talk to my sister."

Daenerys walked over to Tyrion and said, "I didn't come all this way to have my Hand murdered."

"I don't want Cersei to murder me either," Tyrion murmured. "I could have stayed in my cell and saved a great deal of trouble."

"I did this," Jon said. "I should go."

"She'll definitely murder you," Tyrion countered. "I go see my sister. Or we all go home, and we're right back where we started."

Daenerys nodded, trusting Tyrion Lannister to solve the problem. Jon hopes that Tyrion can solve this problem and speak of the reason. Tyrion sighed as he approached the Lannister soldiers, requesting an audience. The men nodded, escorting him.

Jon turned his attention to Imogen, noting she was silent. What he saw brought back terrible memories. Jon was no longer looking at Imogen but at the Wildling Huntress. She sat there, expression neutral, but her silver eyes blazing. He knew she was mad at him for not discussing this with her. No doubt she would have talked him out of it. How their people have suffered enough. The Free Folk would not be part of this war, except with their courtship…it would be expected from the Northern Lords for the Free Folk, or at least the Dires, to join.

Jon mentally cursed.

He made his way over, trying to explain reason, yet she stood up and walked away. Jon sighed, for he never liked it when Imogen was angry, especially at him. He knew the extent of her rage since she had stabbed him once.

If only he could explain with ease to her. He knew he messed up the truce but couldn't rely on lies. It was the morals he grew up with, by his father, Ned Stark. The last time he lied, it almost killed him when confronting Mance Rayder after the Battle of Castle Black. Lying wasn't his thing. He barely made it through his teeth when the Wildlings held him hostage. Only Ygritte, Orell, and Imogen could tell he was lying.

Needing space, he made it to the side of the ruins. He noticed a jawbone and picked it up. His best bet was a dog that died here and rotted to the bone. He sighed, looking up to the sky.

Daenerys came over to him. On the ship back from Eastwatch-by-the-sea, they talked while he recuperated. Not once has Daenerys asked him to bend the knee. Not once has she mentioned political alliances, either supporting her for the Iron Throne in exchange for her support or marriage. Jon assumed she had stopped her search to reclaim all of the Seven Kingdoms or had waited until after the Great War.

Jon sighed, fidgeting with the jawbone, "No one is less happy about this than I am."

"I know," Daenerys murmured. "I respect what you did. I wish you hadn't done it, but I respect it."

She came closer, taking the jawbone and caressing the teeth. Then, she looked around the ruins for what was supposed to be the dragon's sanctuary.

"This place was the beginning of the end for my family," Daenerys commented. "Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor. A dragon is not a slave. They were terrifying. Extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe. And we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small. And we grew small as well." She looked at Jon. "We weren't extraordinary without them. We were just like everyone else."

Daenerys handed Jon the jawbone back. Most of the Targaryen history was limited to Jon, as he learned the bare minimum. His goal was to be a brother of the Night's Watch. What does history do in his bastard status? His main focus was on the North and the Wall.

"You're not like everyone else," Jon assured her, keeping his distance. "And your family hasn't seen its end. You're still here."

Daenerys appreciated his words but sighed sadly, "I can't have children."

"Who told you that?" Jon asked.

"The witch who murdered my husband," she answered.

Witches, Jon thought bitterly, for their lies and deception. "Has it occurred to you that she might not have been a reliable source of information?"

Daenerys chuckled, then turned her attention to their comrades and friends. Jon noted Imogen with Ser Davos and Lady Brienne, all in a deep conversation. Ser Davos tried to ease the Wildling Huntress's anger, hopefully turning it into a grudge.

"If you plan to make Imogen your queen, may I make a suggestion," Daenerys murmured.

Jon looked at her with a nod.

"Don't push her away. Don't follow traditions in which she does not have a say. You two fought hard for this. Don't ruin it."

"You still see me as a king?" he asked.

She smirked, "One way or another, I will find a way to bring the North back to the Seven Kingdoms. And if you think I can have children again, then maybe your child and mine might do."

Jon mentally groaned because he did not want that conversation.

Changing the subject, she glanced at Jon, "You were right from the beginning. If I had trusted you, everything would be different."

"So what now?" he asked.

"I can't forget what I saw north of the Wall," she murmured. "And I can't pretend that Cersei won't take back half the country the moment I march north."

Jon nodded slightly, "It appears Tyrion's assessment was correct. We're fucked."

Daenerys chuckled lightly through her nose with a smile.

A friendship they can make until there comes a time.

They returned back to the others. Jon went over to his advisors. Just as he was about to speak to Imogen, Lady Brienne gestured him not to, though subtle, not to get the Wildling Huntress's wrath. Jon sighed as he stood there, waiting patiently.

Hours passed, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. All eyes turned to the only entrance where Tyrion came forward. Not far behind him was Cersei with her Queensguard and Ser Jaime. The Lannisters stood on the other side of the platform. Cersei stood there holding her hands, her attention on Daenerys and Jon.

"My armies will not stand down," Cersei announced. "I will not pull them back to the capital. I will march them north to fight alongside you in the Great War."

This surprised Jon, wondering what Tyrion had said to change his sister's mind. He glanced at Tyrion who had a pleased smirk of a major accomplishment.

"The darkness is coming for us all," Cersei continued. "We'll face it together. And when the Great War is over, perhaps you'll remember I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you. I expect not. Call our banners. All of them."

.o0o.

Jon tried speaking with Imogen again when they were on the ship. He followed, trying to explain, only to be met with a door in his face. Ser Davos advised him to give her time. That she needed space to breathe and think. For it was normal for women to be pissed at their partner. As Ser Davos said, he dealt with this treatment with his wife many times. Once the anger passes, he can grovel for forgiveness.

Jon wasn't sure about the groveling.

For the next three days, he waited. Imogen would join in supper, yet she took her seat with Lady Brienne and Podrick. Thus, Jon watched from afar. Waiting. Just waiting. Several men, the Ironborn, tried to talk with her. One leaned in, saying something, which Imogen grabbed him by the head and slammed it on the rail. Theon stepped in, trying to pull his man aside, yet the Ironborn would not listen, shoving Theon away. Jon was ready to fight until Imogen punched the Ironborn in the face, to which the Ironborn left. Theon apologized, then left.

Impressive and cautious, Jon continued to watch.

When they docked at Dragonstone, Imogen started walking away from everyone. Knowing that Imogen pissed off a lot of Ironborn, he followed, keeping a distance. Skadi was there, which Imogen got on before taking off. Jon cursed, knowing he could not outrun a direwolf.

Then he thought of Rhaegal. Not sure what to do, he thought to Rhaegal to follow her. A shriek could be heard in the distance. As the green dragon began to follow Imogen and Skadi. Jon made his way back to the castle, getting himself a horse. Once he got one, he searched for the green dragon, who made his appearance known, leading Jon to where to go.

They reach the other side of the island, Imogen holding Dark Sister as she strikes the air, practicing. Lately, Imogen has been focused on her spear. So, to see her practice with her sword makes him wonder what her mindset was. Skadi merely sat there, watching. Jon watched, seeing her poise as good as if she was trained at the same length as him. Then again, Bloodraven trained her.

The sound of him approaching caught her attention, and she took a stance on the defense. Jon got off his horse and made his way over. Imogen adjusted her stance, aiming Dark Sister at him. He stopped, trying to evaluate his next move.

Imogen remained as she was, aiming her sword.

Does he fight her to get her anger out or walk away?

Knowing this would not settle without a duel, Jon removed his cloak and drew Longclaw. Both are in the short guard hold as they circle around each other. Imogen made the first move as she made a thrust, which Jon stepped back, blocking it. Imogen stepped away, going for several strikes and blocking everyone. Both Valyrian blades clashed, creating sparks. Jon does not intend to fight. His goal is to tire Imogen out. She may be a good sword fighter but tends to falter when her emotions are high.

Imogen swung higher as if she was going for his head. Jon blocked it, stepping back as she made another thrust. Jon swung, deflecting the blow. He made a move to disarm, yet Imogen took her other hand on the blade of her sword, creating a shield and blocking it. Jon was surprised that she would take the risk with a Valyrian sword.

Imogen growled, forcing forward and redirecting their blades. She grabbed his wrist and pushed his sword hand away while her other hand with the sword came over. Jon used his hand to Longclaw block it, preventing her strike. They were in a grapple, both in a deadlock. Imogen gave a headbutt that stunned Jon in the chin. Jon pushed her back, making distance, before slashing over, wanting to disarm her having enough.

Imogen ducked, sliding away from him.

Having enough, Jon charged, tackling Imogen by the midsection and pushing her down. Imogen gasped, using her elbow from her free arm to jab him in the back. Jon maneuvered them so they were on the ground, quickly taking her sword hand and yanking Dark Sister out of her grip. Longclaw tossed to the ground too. Imogen may be fast and skilled, yet she lacks the strength of a man.

Jon pinned her down, straddling her waist while gripping both wrists and holding them down to the sides of her head. "Enough."

Imogen tried another headbutt, but Jon pulled back in time. His grip tightened as he yelled, "Enough!"

Imogen stopped as she lay there trapped, panting.

Jon panted as well, except he did not falter, knowing she would take advantage to retaliate.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I didn't tell you," Jon panted.

"You don't… trust me…" she seethed.

"I do," he disagreed, still out of breath. "I do…trust you."

"Then why didn't you tell me," She snapped. "You put our people at risk!"

"The Free Folk- "

"This is not just about the Free Folk!"

Jon stopped staring at her as she glared at him.

"Then what is it?"

"How much does the North have to fight for someone else's war?" she asked harshly.

Jon stared at her.

Her eyes watered, "I have seen so many wars. Wars that the North had fought in, either against the Free Folk or the Southerners. Our people, many will die, and you…you…you will put the survivors in danger."

"Imogen…" Jon murmured.

"How many wars do we have to fight for others' gain?" She asked as the tears fell. "What was the point of having Ser Davos and me as your advisors if you don't take us into consideration?"

Words were lost for him.

Imogen was thinking like a leader, no, a queen. Her thoughts for the people. His people. She knows the Free Folk will not fight for the Iron Throne. Thus, she worried about his fighting men. Knowing the risk if they survive in the Great War. It brought back the debate of being neutral and minding his own business. All he said was that his people wouldn't serve another Targaryen. Now, he was going to force them after the Great War. The realizing hit was that he was no better than those playing the game.

Just like Stannis.

Just like Robb.

Just like Ned Stark.

He was playing the game he did not want to be in.

And she saw it.

She has seen men and women playing the game and their lives lost.

Unable to contain himself, he pulled her up into a hug, saying how sorry he was for being a fool. He thought he was doing what was right, except he wasn't. This is why he doesn't want to be king. For he can't lead a kingdom. Just as Imogen said, he was a leader, not a ruler. A part of him should abdicate and give the crown to his siblings. Give it to Sansa, for she has seen and played the game before.

"Jon," Imogen panted.

"I'll make this right," he promised.

"How can you when you gave her your words," She reminded.

Jon pulled back a little as he stared at her. "You need to trust me."

Jon stared at her as she opened her mouth and then closed before she said, "Fine."

Jon nodded, knowing he had to prove himself.

Now, he was in a small predicament as he stared at Imogen, not sure what the next step would be. If he let her go, would she strike again? He knew he deserved it, yet he did not like to be punched again. Already, his bottom lip and jaw were throbbing.

Slowly, he got off of her and offered a hand. Imogen stared at it for a moment before accepting. A mere apology won't fix his mistake. Though Ser Davos knows how stubborn kings are, he has forgiven him. Imogen was different. She doesn't forgive with ease.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do," he answered.

"Then why didn't you tell me about the alliance?"

Jon sighed, "Because it was my burden to bear. If anything happens, then it is on me."

"But the North would have been neutral between the two queens. Why choose a side after all the Lannisters and Targaryens have done to House Stark?"

Jon took a deep breath, knowing she had brought up a fair point.

"Because I know Daenerys would be a better queen than Cersei." He said. "If she is going to help us in the Great War, then we should return the favor."

Imogen held a questionable expression, "And what if she asks you to bend the knee again?"

"She won't," Jon assured.

"You tend to have blind faith," She noted.

Jon huffed up a laugh through his nose. If Daenerys keeps her word and suggests a marital alliance through their children…. a sudden image of dark-haired children with grey eyes fills his head. Jon mentally scolded himself for such a thought. Most of all, he debated whether to force any of his children to marry against their will. Recalling how it affected Sansa with Joffrey.

"Jon," she called out.

That snapped Jon out of his trance. Quickly, he grabbed Longclaw and Dark Sister. He cautiously handed it out to her.

"You're not gonna attack me again…are you?"

Imogen snorted as she took hold of her sword, sheathing it, "I'm still mad at you."

"I know," he sighed.

He has a lot of making-up to do.

The question is, how.

.o0o.

The following day, the North's Council and the Mother of Dragons Council had gathered around the Painted Table. They worked on a plan to keep the Army of the Dead in one Kingdom. In that case, they should be maintained and kept away from vastly populated areas if possible. Primarily the Riverlands, the Westerlands,the Crownlands and the Reach.

"If we have the Dothraki ride hard on the Kingsroad, they'll arrive at Winterfell within a fortnight," Jon suggested as he traced the carved trail, setting the Dothraki token at Winterfell.

"And the Unsullied?" Daenerys asked.

"We can sail with them to White Harbor, meet the Dothraki here on the Kingsroad, then ride together to Winterfell," Jon said.

"Perhaps you should fly to Winterfell, Your Grace," Ser Jorah advised. "You have many enemies in the North. Thousands fell fighting your father. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow. He'll see your silver hair on the Kingsroad and know that one well-placed bolt will make him a hero. The man who killed the conqueror."

Daenerys contemplated, in which Jon spoke, "It's your decision, Your Grace. But if we're going to be allies in this war, it's important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbor together, I think it sends a better message."

All eyes were on Daenerys.

"We've not come to conquer the North," Daenerys said. "I'm coming to save the North."

Jon could hear a change in breath from Imogen, but thankful she did not speak her mind. Jon knows Imogen hates a superiority complex. As this could be a stunt to make the North kneel. Jon needs to be firm, as he suspects Daenerys respects those who are firm with their decision. So far, the North shall be an independent kingdom under his reign.

"We sail together," Daenerys decided.

Ser Jorah expressed his slight disappointment. Then again, the man was a devoted knight. Once the travel arrangements were settled, the Northern Council excused themselves, as Theon requested an audience with the queen. Jon led Ser Davos and Imogen into the Stone Throne Room and to the door.

Just as they reached the door, someone called out,"Jon!"

Jon stopped, turning around to face Theon.

"Can I speak with you?" Theon asked.

Ser Davos and Imogen stared at Jon, aware of his…bias…towards his once friend. Jon nodded, and Ser Davos escorted Imogen out to give them privacy.

Theon stepped down the dais, making his way over as he said, "What you did in King's Landing…what you said. You could've lied to Cersei. About making an alliance with Daenerys. You risked everything to tell an enemy the truth."

Jon stared at his former childhood friend, "We went down there to make peace. And it seems to me we need to be honest with each other if we're gonna fight together."

"You've always known what was right," Theon said. "Even when we were all young and stupid. You always knew. Every step you take…it's always the right step."

"It's not," Jon disagreed. "It may seem that way from the outside, but…I promise you, it's not true."

Theon's face tightened with doubt.

"I've done plenty of things that I regret," Jon said, remembering his Brotherhood, the Free Folk, and the Northerners who died because of him.

"Not compared to me, you haven't," Theon argued weakly.

"No," Jon firmly said. "Not compared to you."

As Theon betrayed House Stark. Abandoning Robb, capturing Winterfell, killing Maester Lewyn and Ser Rodrik . Forcing Bran and Rickon to escape their home and killing two innocent boys to take their place. Jon made mistakes that revolved around the battle, never his friends and adopted family.

Theon took a deep breath, coming closer, "I've always wanted to do the right thing. Be the right kind of person. But I never knew what that meant. It's always seemed like there…like there was an impossible choice I had to make. Stark or Greyjoy.

Jon knew that feeling:

Bastard or Stark.

Night's Watch or Free Folk.

Leader or Ruler.

Done with this self-wallowing, Jon marched over to Theon to give him a piece of his mind. Theon basically grew up the same way as him. Bastard and Ward of Ned Stark. The man who raised them when society told Ned to regard them.

"Our father was more of a father to you than yours ever was," Jon firmly said.

"He was," Theon agreed.

"And you betrayed him," Jon harshly said. "Betrayed his memory."

Theon's face falters as his eyes shimmer with regret in near tears, "I did."

Jon can truly see Theon's regret, "But you never lost him. He's a part of you. Just like he's a part of me."

"But the things I've done…."

"It's not my place to forgive you for all of it."

Theon looked down.

"But what I can forgive…I do."

Theon stared at him, eyes widened slightly.

Jon sighed, "You don't need to choose. You're a Greyjoy…And you're a Stark."

Theon comprehended this, "When I was Ramsay's prisoner, Yara tried to save me. She's the only one who tried to save me." He sniffled and looked at Jon. "She needs my help."

"So why are you still talking to me?" Jon asked.

With nothing else to say, Jon left. This doesn't reconcile their friendship. Although Jon had forgiven Theon, they could never be friends again or brothers. It's what he can do for Ned Stark's memory. To forgive and move on.

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