19

Chapter 19: Chapter 18

Notes:

dang, no love for the adventures of the future last chapter, eh?

When you see the moodboard, you'll notice that the Blackfyre there is not one of any official art. That is a Skyrim mod that was made by ElSopa based on my design for Blackfyre. Go bother them to hurry up and release it!

Chapter Text

Daenerys

She strode into the throne room with her head held high. There was no walking out for this King now. If he did then he was a coward stalling for something and truly unworthy to sit upon the Iron Throne. She would show all of these people that she was a dragon and the rightful Queen.

Davos Seaworth stood at the base of the steps leading up to the throne where the King stared down at her. Those eyes of his, they reminded her of the way Ser Barristan looked at her at times when something made him sad or he had something hard to tell her out of fear of her well being.

"You stand before Aegon of the House Targaryen, the Sixth of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. The White Wolf of the North and the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Trueborn son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Formerly Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell." Lord Davos looked disturbed when he said the last bit.

The room went quiet as Missandei stepped forward. "You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of the 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."

She half expected half the court to begin whispering gossip of her daring to call herself the Queen when it was another who sat on the Iron Throne. But there was only silence.

The King straightened himself on the throne. Before he spoke, his Hand started first, not seeing that his King was about to. "Impressive titles but some of them misleading. You are the rightful heir but not the Queen. House Targaryen has its male heir, the son of Rhaegar no less."

Daenerys lifted her voice. "Forgive my doubts, Lord Seaworth, but from what I know of history as I am sure what everyone here knows is that my brother Rhaegar and his children died in the Rebellion. To suddenly learn of another trueborn child by him is hard to believe from my position. I understood that Lyanna Stark was kidnapped and raped. I didn't know that he forced her into a bond of wedlock if I am understanding you right." Her conversations with Sansa made Daenerys personally want to believe in this a little, but she was a Queen here. Not Daenerys. The point had to be probed until he provided sufficient proof, if not for herself then for the public record.

The King's voice loomed over the court. "The events leading to Robert's Rebellion were lies. Rhaegar never kidnapped or raped Lyanna." His voice was firm, but also melancholic. "They ran away and secretly married in Dorne after Rhaegar annulled his marriage to Elia Martell. I was born in a tower in the Red Mountains after the Battle of the Trident, my father dead and my mother dying. Ned Stark swore to hide me from Robert at all costs, including his honor and the truth."

Daenerys took a deep breath. "And you have some proof of this?" Even now, Viserys' teachings about the various allies of the Usurper were hard to shake.

The King nodded. "I have a record of the marriage being officiated by High Septon Maynard and the only living witness of my birth, Howland Reed of Greywater Watch."

She shifted her eyes around. There were places of skepticism here and there but not enough. "Is it true?" She asked.

"Yes."

Her eyes fell closed and she felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her. Her brother never went mad. He was who she always believed he was. But it raised a great and simple question. "Why?"

"Why what?" The King asked.

"Why did he run away with Lyanna Stark? Why did he abandon his wife and children? Why?"

The King shook his head. "I don't know. If he or my mother were alive I would have asked them that too. Lyanna hated her betrothal to Robert Baratheon because he was a whoremonger yet she went with a man already a husband and a father. I don't know why they did it." He sighed. "All of this is the consequence of that, intentional, unintentional, or the intentions of others seeking to exploit it. All that matters is that we're the ones dealing with it."

She truly wished he had something more to say than just that. "I've spent my whole life living in the shadow of Westeros. Most of it on the run from Robert's assassins. I've fought through treachery and blood to return home to take back what was stolen from my family. And the day I finally return, I learn that someone already has done it. A nephew I never knew I had."

"Believe me, there were other paths I wanted to take but this was the only one I could take that keeps us all alive."

"Oh?" Daenerys' face hardened. "So you expect war from me? The foreign invader as your people have called me, leading an army of slaves and savages?"

"Well, you freed the slaves so it's not factually true." Daenerys scowled… was he making japes of this? But no, his face was calm, as if he wished to emphasize her actions to free the slaves. It changed some anger inside her to curiosity. "I hope not from you too. But there is a war coming for all of us, the only war that matters. And it's not a throne or a crown the victor will win. The White Walkers are coming with the Army of the Dead at their heels."

Her brow arched up in doubt. "White Walkers? An old legend meant to frighten children."

"Legends have to begin somewhere. The North remembers the Long Night and the tales of the dead. As a brother of the Night's Watch, I saw them and I have fought them and I lost. The Wildlings haven't been fighting blood and bone to get south of the Wall just to reave and rape, they've been doing it to get as far away from the real threat as they could."

"Quite right," Tyrion began, "legends do begin somewhere but how much of them is truth and how much is exaggeration is something that is impossible to know unless one was there to witness such. I consider it a curse to always be guessing but also a blessing to know that we have such stories rooted so deep in our history."

"That's all the White Walkers are to you, a story?" King Aegon countered. "Should I remind you that you serve a woman who supposedly gave birth to dragons from stone by walking into flames and coming out unscathed. Now up front, you can't blame me for questioning how absurd that is."

"Fair point. I was not there, I did not witness it. But the dragons have returned to take flight once again-"

"But the chance of ice monsters returning from their long absence from history is utterly impossible?" Aegon questioned in almost a mocking tone. His gaze turned from Daenerys' Hand to her friend. "Lady Missandei of Naath."

Missandei blinked, looking at her. Daenerys blinked herself, surprised that she was being addressed at all. Valued greatly, realities unfortunately relegated her to being ignored by all but Daenerys in these sorts of discussions, but Jon Snow… Aegon Targaryen, if he was to be believed, was referring to her directly on the same page as he did Tyrion. Gruff, but respectful.

"Your… your Grace?" Missandei hesitantly answered.

"I would ask for your own thoughts on this, if you would. Not what I'm saying but the context, so to speak. You were once a former slave and then a woman appeared into your life and showed you that a regime hundreds, no, thousands of years old was about to end. Will you answer me honestly if you believed it could have been true at the first learning of this?" It was testament to Daenerys' self-control that her jaw didn't drop the minute he said this.

Who was this man?

Missandei looked nervous but one shared look with Daenerys and she took a breath and stood stall and undaunted. "I did not believe it, your grace. How could a person with no army, no gold, no land, or anything like that go up against the mighty empire that was slavery? But when I saw my queen's children, I saw her win the allegiance of a most powerful army in the world. By the time the sun was setting at the end of that day, I believed it all. I knew there was one who could topple an empire, there was one who I would follow and call my Queen."

The entire court went silent from hearing such powerful words of faith from what they believed to just be Daenerys' translator.

"I admire the unbreakable faith you have in your Queen, my lady. And given that powerful testimony of the impossible being outdone, would you say that I am still mad in my proclamations of the dead or something else?"

Missandei straightened her back and stood taller, a scowl still planted on her face. "Your impossibilities are of a different nature, your grace."

"Aye, death and destruction are a far worse enemy than slavery."

Missandei's face tightened with piercing eyes. "There is no slavery in Westeros, there has not been for thousands of years. You do not know the despair that it is. Death and destruction are a far better thing than imprisonment as property!" She nearly shouted the last sentence, trembling.

Hand extended to touch Missandei's shoulder, Daenerys waited until she was quiet before speaking herself. "I truly want to believe you are as good and honorable as my advisors have told me about, King Aegon, but your words do strain credibility." Filled with resolve, she stepped forward. "I cannot speak of dead men, but I can speak of the fight I have suffered, and the fights to come."

Silent, Aegon only extended his hand. "Please, tell me." It seemed a genuine request.

Daenerys gladly obliged. "I do not know Westeros, but I am smart enough to know that while they are free, the smallfolk have yet a meager lot in life. They are at the mercy of the pit and gallows of their Lord, who may plunder them as they see fit while only managing to save themselves by winning the favor of the King. You may not be one of those Kings, but most are. Abolition of slavery led not to true liberty."

"No one suggested it didn't, given my status as a bastard prior to this."

She nodded. "Aye, which should be why you should step aside and allow me to take the reins, so to speak." Daenerys stood confidently, as if she were astride Drogon. "This is the moment I was born for, was destined for. Trained myself through the trials of pain and suffering so that I may be forged into a Queen that would not simply rule, but to transform what is but brick into marble. To restore the Targaryen dynasty to both the Iron Throne what Aegon the Conqueror intended to be."

"You speak insults," Lady Sansa remarked. "Aegon is a Targaryen and a dragon sits upon the Iron Throne."

A smirk. "I have carried my name my entire life. You have only carried it for less than a year, Aegon."

Another pregnant pause remained for the longest of whiles before the King cleared his throat. "I have carried far more than simply the Targaryen name... enough for a thousand lifetimes."

"Are these the dead of which you speak of?" Daenerys didn't intend to sound so dismissive, but it came out that way.

Instead of replying, he turned to one of his men and nodded, a signal for the man to promptly leave through the main doors of the throne room. It wasn't longer than a minute later that he returned with a collection of others, all of them hauling a large crate. The castle guard came forth and forced all of the court to step back, forming a defensive wall at the crate.

"It upsets me greatly that a man's word is nothing but dust in the air, waved away when it irritates. One must see to believe just how horrible things truly are." He ran a hand down his face, showing just a glimpse of the melancholy he clearly carried. Gazing straight into Daenerys' eyes, the Dragon Queen couldn't help but stare back at them, feeling them pierce her soul ever so slightly. "You'd better stand back as well," the King advised.

Nodding, if only to humor him, Daenerys motioned with her hand. The Unsullied swarmed between her retinue and the crate despite being disarmed.

It wasn't long that one of the men hauling the crate began to undo the iron latch. The moment he removed the little bar keeping the box closed he darted back. The crate tipped over and caused the lid to smack onto the stone floor with a clatter… exposing a nightmare hiding inside.

The entire hall echoed from a twisted cry from a monstrous, rotting corpse. The sheer sight of it made Daenerys step back and her guard forward with their arms up. This thing that was once human was far from it now. And those eyes thay glowed that unnatural blue brought such a chill at the sight.

Many of the people at court cried out in terror as the creature thrashed in its chains. Missandei screamed, Tyrion looked on the verge of fainting… even the Unsullied faltered ever so slightly, famous discipline tested by this demon. Daenerys, standing stock still, was surprised to see the King walk past her protection with a hint of fear in his step with nothing but a dagger of glimmering steel. He thrust the blade once into the chest of the monster, but it did nothing except agitate it. He repeatedly stabbed, cut, bashed, and struck at the monster with the dagger but it showed no sign of pain or stopping its fight.

The King turned around and looked not at her, but Tyrion instead. "You've never been North of the Wall, so don't tell me what's out there!" He began to walk away from it all, ordering the creature to be sealed back into its wooden box and dismissing all of the court as he retook his place on the Iron Throne with a hand over his face, clearly exhausted mentally.

"I am not here to rule or govern, for the power of the throne or crown. I'm here because I want to do what matters. I am the sword in the darkness, I am the shield that guards the realms of men. If being King is what it takes to fight for life, then so be it."

A great and powerful silence befell everyone remaining. Everyone who was not a part of Daenerys' envoy looked at them with that look of 'he told you so.'

Tyrion cleared his throat and straightened his doublet. "I didn't think you'd actually try to prove to me that grumpkins were real."

The King looked angrily at Tyrion and a silence held once again for a few seconds. "That was a snark, my lord," Tyrion let out a great sigh and it morphed into an attempted laugh, "you don't ever want to meet the grumpkins." The King's expression softened and he walked back up to the throne, but then stopped. Rather than take the seat, he returned to the same level as Daenerys and her people. "There are over a hundred thousand of those creatures on the way, and the Night King's powers are growing stronger. Without you, we cannot defeat them."

Daenerys spoke as calmly as she could. "I admit I was wrong to not believe you, your grace. That creature you have just shown me is an incarnate of nightmares and I will not stand by to see an army of them invade my home. Would you confide in me what your plan is to deal with them?"

The King, for the first time, looked dumbfounded and ran a hand through his black curls. "We don't have one. We did, but recent developments have changed things. The Wall is currently the only barrier we have and fortifying it is a top priority. But I fear that it won't be as difficult an obstacle to overcome for the dead as anyone hopes it will."

"Very well. In such a case a truce shall be made between us that there shall be no conflict or engagement during this time until the dead are defeated."

The King sighed in relief, but she was not done.

"But when the war is won, and victory obtained, you will surrender the Iron Throne to me." Now, it was the King's company's turn to fall silent and stunned. Daenerys did not give them the chance to respond. "I see you are a good man, your grace. But I have fought all my life to restore House Targaryen to where it rightfully belongs in the world and I do not deem you worthy of that task. Your objective is to defeat your army of the Dead, but mine is to maintain and keep my family's legacy alive. You may carry my family's name, but I do not see a Targaryen in front of me."

The King stepped forward with irritation clear on his face. "You've just seen what is coming for us, you've just seen the reality and you want to keep discussing politics!?"

"And why should I not?" Daenerys shot back. "I mean no offense, your grace, but I don't know you. I have only heard of you and our goals are not one and the same. You fight to protect the living and so shall I, but I will do it for my family's name and legacy, something you do not understand. You may be my brother's son, but you are a Stark, through and through."

Behind Aegon, the figure of Sansa Stark took that moment to step forward. "You go too far, your grace. You say you do not know the King, then allow me to acquaint you. This is Jon Snow of Winterfell, the 998th Lord Commander who made peace with the Wildlings when no other man on the Wall would because he knew they had just as much a right to live as anyone south of the Wall, this is the White Wolf of the North who united Northmen and Wildings together against the traitors of the Red Wedding and annihilated their force, defeating Ramsay Bolton yet showing mercy to those who deserved it." She placed her hands on his shoulders. "This is my cousin… my brother, a man who has taken the worst we had to give him simply because his name was Snow and yet he has alway fought for his home and his family. His convictions are not to be challenged, your grace, for he has died to keep them. Can you say the same?"

There was a pause as Daenerys tried to comprehend what was just said. "What figure of speech is that? To die for your convictions?"

The King suddenly reached for the hem of his tunic and without flinching or showing signs of hesitation and embarrassment, lifted it up to reveal his bare chest and a horrible sight underneath, one that made even the Unsullied break their steadfast guard.

A sight that staggered Daenerys, that made her stare at him not as a Queen, but as herself.

There were five horrible scars on his chest, scars that should not be worn by the living. Daenerys noticed Sansa Stark look away, closing her eyes as her fingers trembled.

"You met Melisandre of the Red Faith on Dragonstone. Were it not for her, my last moments living would have been laying in my own cold blood and snow, betrayed and left to die by the men I tried to lead against the dead." He lowered his tunic, covering the scars.

Daenerys' mouth opened but her voice stuttered. What was she supposed to say after seeing that? They couldn't be real, they just couldn't.

Her head panged with a twitch and her head felt tight. Her body felt heartbreak for what she had just seen… but on such a level and in a way she wouldn't normally for a person she just met. It was like she was filled with a memory from a dream.

"I told yeh," Ser Davos said, "the impossible."

Daenerys swallowed and took a breath to clear her head from the many thoughts colliding with each other. "You have shown me a walking corpse you say is controlled by an enemy of legend, but these scars you have cannot be what you say."

"If you want more," Ser Beric said, stepping forward and removing his eyepatch, "allow me to show you." He pulled his collar down and revealed a scar from a rope gash that those hung receive as the rope digs into the skin. "I would have to disrobe to show you the rest, but I have seen the end six times now." He put his eyepatch back on. "And that is all I will say."

Ser Davos spoke again, "any man who has seen the aftermath of battle and war would know that the scars are not just simple cuts that go a little deeper than one would hope." His gaze met with Ser Jorah's who Daenerys turned to. Unfortunately, Ser Jorah nodded but didn't look at all proud of his knowledge confirming it.

They were interrupted by the main doors opening and a man who Daenerys guessed to be one of the castle servants rushed in at a fast pace with a worried look. He walked up to Sansa and whispered something in her ear and then stepped back for her order.

"Your grace," Sansa said to Daenerys, "My lords and lady, the days grow late and we must end this exchange for the time being, for the King still has his own duties he must attend to, some more urgent than others." She looked aT Daenerys' party. "I will have dinner be sent to your rooms."

Sansa walked up next to the King and pulled him to the side and whispered whatever it was she was told to him.

"They found it? Excellent. Have it cleaned and repaired as soon as possible. And send word to House Royce."

Daenerys was still too haunted by what she saw from that crate and on Aegon's body as she walked with her advisors out of the throne room. Those scars, those marks of death. It wasn't right.

Tyrion

For some reason it wasn't as dreadful in the Red Keep as it used to be. Not in an evil, decrepit sense, but a place of vanity and deception around every corner. Maybe this ease stemmed from the lack of having to look behind for a spy watching his every move. It almost put a skip in his step… almost.

Tyrion found himself once again at the bottom of the Iron Throne, only the one sitting upon it was probably the first one in a hundred years to deserve such a place in the world. At least the Throne Room was cleared of everyone. There was a time he reveled in the spectators watching as he berated his foolish nephew. But this presence Jon Snow had was unlike anything he ever faced. It reminded him of his father but he was more on edge for reasons he felt he didn't need to be. He remembered his time well with Jon Snow, but this man before him was so different from that boy who went off to join the Night's Watch.

"Love what you've done with the place," Tyrion started, "after only a few weeks as King you've already done better than Robert and Joffrey's reigns combined. And personally, I thank you for taking care of the smell. I'm sure the people are equally grateful."

The King didn't even shift from his seating when he spoke. "I'm not one for smalltalk these days, my lord. You and I have had our share years ago."

"Yes indeed. I barely recognized you when I came in with my Queen. Back then you were an optimistic bastard looking for a place of honor at the end of the world and now here you are, taking your rightful seat and all without a drop of blood spilled."

"There were a fair few that died to get me here."

"Probably, but the history books will not care. Aegon Targaryen the Sixth. A conqueror so mighty he didn't even need to wage war or battle to take the Iron Throne back for his House. Very poetic. They'll talk about it for a thousand years alongside that of the one from which you were named."

"Except if you succeed at your job then those books will say how short my reign was before your Queen ascended."

"I never said it was my job to replace you with my Queen. Although that was the idea before, it's not any more. My job is to do what I have always done. Make people happy."

He almost saw a flicker of… profound sorrow in Jon's eyes. Tyrion knew that emotion intimately The brooding mask resumed. "And to make your Queen happy means to place her where I am. She won't settle for anything less. And if you were my Hand, you would be counseling me why that would be the unwisest decision, am I wrong?"

"You've grown smarter at Wall. You are right, I would counsel against such an action, especially with your odds. Seven of the Nine realms with their full support behind you. To step down so shortly to another without proper reason would destroy the loyalty they have in you. It would cause more trouble than solved. But there are other ways we can handle this. The obvious solution would be a marriage alliance of course," he noticed Jon's face slightly tense up at that. Something was keeping him opposed, but what? Tyrion continued. "But there are some complications that would make it seem undesirable. I imagine that even though you have taken your birth father's name, you haven't thought to accept his ancestral customs?"

"You mean wanting to fuck my aunt?"

Tyrion smirked. "Glad to know there's still a bit of the bastard I knew in there. But yes, since you put it so bluntly. You are a Stark at heart, not a Targaryen. But as I said, there are other ways. Daenerys is wiser than many give her credit for. If you were to step down, she would not allow the unrest that would follow to play itself out. She would see to it that while you have given up the throne, you are not simply tossed aside and forgotten. Your leadership, your skills, your prowess, all of them are needed to help guide and rule the realm. I would petition for a new position to be created, like a Warden who serves the Queen directly but as the highest of authority and command next to the Hand."

The King shifted in his chair and an amused smile came upon his face. "You've been away for too long, Tyrion. This isn't Essos. I've mistakenly won over the people and the lords. They're more stubborn about who rules them than the freed slaves. They don't take well to what they deem as 'foreigners'. Personally, I don't care two shits where someone is from. But even as I am, that won't be enough for her. So how do you plan to make your Queen happy?"

"The way we get anything done. We discuss a solution." He walked over to the spot where he once stood before his father and nobles for his greatest crime. "All it takes is a little conversation and perhaps a favor here and there."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm asking if there is anything you can do to help us. Not something political of course, that would bring doubt and skepticism into your court. But something that means nothing to you but everything to Daenerys, something that can help us all see eye to eye about all of this."

The King sat back in the Throne, massaging his temple as he leaned on his hand. "Let Queen Daenerys know that I will meet with her in the Tower of the Hand, privately, and that after, regardless of what is said, I will allow her to have free roam of the city."

Tyrion was almost stunned. Jon Snow was proving constantly he was suited for a throne and had at least a decent idea on how to play the game.

"I will let her know at once, your grace. You have my gratitude." Tyrion bowed his small upper body and went his way to tell his Queen the good news, but he did feel a little bit frustrated at this. Jon Snow- no, Aegon Targaryen was making it harder and harder to give a reason why he shouldn't be on the throne instead of Daenerys. But there would be something, there always was with everyone.

Daenerys

If Tyrion was right, then everything was arranged for a private meeting in person with the King. This would give her a chance to try and get to know him more intimately and find anything she could use against him if she needed to. But with how wonderful the news of being granted access to see the city was, she knew that trying to take advantage of a King in a meeting like this would be disgraceful and it would not do her much service in her goal to gain the throne.

They were meant to meet in a room close to the Hand of the King's chambers rather than the Small Council room or the King's solar for some reason. But, a meeting was a meeting and Daenerys had also brought a peace offering with her.

Daenerys set the sword wrappings up against the wall and observed the room she was in. A strange sort of atrium, she thought. But instead of the light coming from above an open ceiling, it came from an open half-wall.

"I thought this might seem more appropriate," the King said as he came from behind, "meeting privately in one's chambers might cause a rumor or two."

"Fair point," Daenerys agreed.

He looked around, running a hand along the wall. "My cousin, Arya, used to practice Water Dancing here with her teacher when my uncle ruled as Hand to King Robert. They weren't bothered at all except for the last lesson." The King walked over to a stone bench and sat down, slouching over and letting out an exhausted breath. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

Daenerys clasped her hands together below her chest. "You may, but whether or not I give an answer still depends on what you ask."

"When you ruled Meereen, how long did it take for your mind to finally catch up with the strain of the work it takes?"

Danaerys cocked her head. "Ruling came naturally to me, so I never felt tired from any of it. But the troubles of the people did bring a certain stress with them."

"The demands they wanted?"

"The number."

The King chuckled and leaned back, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "I haven't yet attempted something as good as meeting with the people yet. I want to, but I just can't yet."

"Tyrion and Varys did say that once the Lannisters were disposed of, there would be a great mess to be cleaned afterwards."

"They should have mentioned there wasn't just one mess, then."

"I mean no offense to you, but anyone seeking to rule would have known to expect more than just one mess, your grace. That's why we have advisors to help bear the weight. Does your Small Council not do well on their part?"

"They do just well and I trust no one more than they. The only person who I've trusted more was the last maester at Castle Black. I wish I could've been there for his funeral, especially now that I know who I am. I sometimes wonder if he somehow knew it."

Daenerys became confused. "And who was this maester?"

The King looked at her with a smile that stunned her. For the first time he didn't look withdrawn or tense, but calm and a little happy. "Aemon Targaryen, Son of Maekar, brother to Aegon."

Daenerys gasped. There was another? It wasn't just her and Viserys and… her nephew? "We had an uncle still alive?"

"Aye. He's the only man I ever knew to die of old age. One hundred and four years old."

Daenerys felt her knees start to jellify. This knowledge moved her heart in a way she did not expect it to. She sat down on another stone bench adjacent to the King's. "What was he like?" the only other Targaryen she ever knew personally was mean and selfish in his last days. Her father was evil and cruel. What was an elderly Targaryen like?

"He was the kindest man I ever met."

Daenerys let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding in. "Please, go on."

Aegon's eyes regarded her with warmth. "He was also one of the most respected men in black at the Wall. His knowledge and wisdom was hardly ever second guessed, and he always had a knack of knowing what counsel to give. I know he inquired of your journeys once news finally reached us and he worried for you. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing." His eyes seemed to bore into her soul. "He was right."

Blinking, Daenerys had her head turned so the King could not see her face show her melancholy.

"I wish I could have met him." She was barely able to keep her voice from choking. She offhandedly wiped her cheeks clean and looked back at her nephew. "Did he believe in you when you were Lord Commander?"

"It was his vote for me that broke the tie."

Daenerys almost laughed in amazement. "Whether you believe me or not, I agree with his words that you have told me, and I am glad that he was with you for as long as he could be." She moved to take his hand in hers, and could feel him hitch his breath at the contact. Such surprised her, but Daenerys didn't dwell on it. "We both might be some of the few people in the world to know true loneliness… but then again you have your other family. You're lucky to have Lady Sansa as a close confidant in this place. Missandei is the closest thing I will ever have to a sister."

He chuckled. "It's funny, Sansa used to be quite a handful when we were kids. Looked down on me every time her eyes were in my direction."

"She mentioned something like that and how much she regrets it."

"I think everybody regrets half the things they did in childhood. But she's forgiven and I hope she can be better from it now." There was a silence that followed, only broken by the rustle of leaves on the floor when a draft blew in.

Daenerys looked over to the King and saw that pleasantness gone and he looked just as brooding and frowning as before.

"Is something wrong?" Daenerys asked.

"Just remembering all my duties that await me. They don't end."

"You're a king. Death is the only end for your duties or else the realms will rot like they did under Robert and Joffrey."

"Things weren't that bad, at least with Robert." She looked at him skeptically. "I know, his ascendence to the throne was vile, yet the realm wasn't in overt disorder while he ruled." Jon sighed. "But he hardly ever lived up to being a King in the first place. So thank Jon Arryn for the good peace we had as long as we did."

Daenerys straightened and turned her whole body to her nephew, the King. "Peace is always preferable to war, but not all peace is equal." She almost giggled at his confusion. There were some riddles where she surpassed her almighty nephew, and it heartened her. "If you let alone a person with a small wound, the wound will fester and soon consume him." An analogy she had much experience with. "Robert was the wound, with his flaws. The peace just disguised the rot."

He shook his head, smiling in the end. "You… you're a smart one, Daenerys."

"You're just now recognizing this, nephew?"

"Me, never. Yet many others… I don't think they can get past your beauty or your dragons to see your intelligence."

"Dragons do command attention." She wouldn't think of the other comment he mentioned. Aegon was a charmer. Better than Daario that was for sure, especially since he didn't look intentional in his charms.

That fact only added to them.

She cleared her throat. "But the peace we forge together, it will not be a wound." Her eyes were firm but her smile was genuine, taking both of his hands in hers. "Ours will be a peace that lasts a thousand years. The dragon's peace. The Targaryen peace."

"Targaryen peace… rolls of the tongue. But making it official, that's the challenge, isn't it?"

"Tyrion did offer you some possibilities."

"That he did. And I call you brave for willing to go blindly into a marriage for peace, but I would not have you do it." She was surprised. "For one, I would not force anyone who held resentment to myself to marry me. And secondly, are you sure it would get what you want? It would not be me marrying the Queen but the other way around. I would still sit on the throne, all formalities would be expected to be recognized and the traditions." He sighed out, sounding frustrated almost with the things he just said. "Would you be satisfied ruling but not on the throne?"

Daenerys paused. While it was disappointing to hear that she had been rejected in her offer for an easy alliance, she had to recognize the truth in the King's words. While she would be the Queen, she would still be a second to the throne and Westeros would not recognize her any more than that.

But, she also found a new respect for Aegon. It was rare to meet a man who actually thought about what she, or any woman of noble birth, cared for when it concerned a political marriage. He was a good man, but she had also yet to truly see if that also meant he was a good King.

"Then it sounds to me that we will have to take further counsel about other possibilities. I propose that you and I meet with three advisors each in two days from now. We'll all get some time to think and come up with ideas on how to proceed."

The King nodded. "That sounds perfect. Davos, Ser Brynden Tully, and Sansa will be my advisors."

"And the Three I have brought shall be mine. I would ask you to allow Ser Jorah to keep his vigil. It would settle his mind better if voices became raised and he was there to know why."

"He may join us, your grace."

Speaking of Jorah, Daenerys almost forgot the bundle she brought with her. She got up from her stone seat and retrieved it from where she leaned it up to against the wall. "I understand that you have done much for my trusted guardian and friend, such as returning his ancestral sword to him. To show my gratitude and show of good will, I will do the same for you." She pulled the loose wrappings off, presenting a mighty sword and scabbard to the King with a calm mind.

Aegon came forward and accepted Blackfyre with a bit of fascination glinting in his eye. He stepped back and swung it thrice in perfect form, the blade cutting through it with a swish each time and the lightest of rings emanating on the final one. "More amazing than I thought it would be." He sheathed the sword and accepted it. "Though I must admit, I prefer the last sword I carried. Nonetheless, I thank you. You have every right to have this as much as me."

This time, Daenerys couldn't suppress the heat in her ears and cheeks. It was clearly obvious she blushed because Aegon noticed quickly and bowed his head, breaking eye contact with her

"I must get going now, your grace. Have a good night." And with that, the King had left.

Daenerys stood in silence alone. Is that what talking with a reasonable person was like? The only other politicians and nobles she ever met all had their backstabbing agendas with them, some more obvious to see than others, but here and now, all she could feel and sense was sincerity from this man. And because of that, it made her worry. She had overthrown tyrants and villains that stood in her path, but never did she have to face a good man before.