Falling Like || Jon Snow

48| 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰

dragonstone

— "TELL ME, HOW DO I KNOW YOU ARE WHO YOU SAY?"

Nymeria shrugged. "I'm sure there are books full of the proud Martell family tree in Dorne. They're your allies are they not? Or if you don't believe me, I suppose the quickest way to handle this would be to feed me to your dragons."

Daenerys considered her words a moment. "Your mother taught you Valyrian?"

"She did."

"And what is it you hoped to achieve by coming here, may I ask?"

"... may I speak plainly, Your Grace?"

"Please do."

"I know that you are here to reclaim the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms, but the North will not bend. Not ever again. We are stubborn folk, and for too long we have suffered beneath the crown, but I don't wish for more war. We have enough of that already. I had hoped that you and I would form an alliance instead."

Daenerys approached her almost cautiously, but the curiosity in her eyes was only growing. "You have Targaryen blood... but no ambition for the throne?"

Nymeria chuckled. "I hardly had the patience for the men of the Night's Watch. I don't imagine I could stand listening to the lords of the royal court."

"So what is it you expect from me?"

Nymeria glanced back at Jon, who had somehow managed to compose himself at least a little, and now stepped forward to speak. "Right now, you and I and Cersei and everyone else... we;re children playing at a game, moving pieces, knocking pieces, screaming that the rules aren't fair."

Daenerys's expression twisted into a scowl as she looked to Nymeria, obviously not pleased at being compared with a child. "A figure of speech." Nymeria clarified coolly.

All eyes returned to the northern king once again, and he took a breath. "By winter's end, everyone you or I or anyone else knows will be dead if we do not defeat the enemy to the North."

"The enemy to the North?" Tyrion questioned.

"The army of the dead is on the march."

It was silent for a moment before Daenerys spoke again. "Another figure of speech?"

"No." Nymeria replied simply.

Tyrion's brow scrunched with confusion. "The army of the dead? My lady-"

"You don't know us well, my lord," she cut in. "But what did you make of my grandfather? A good man? An honest one?"

"He was a great man." Tyrion agreed. "And no, I never took him for a liar."

"And if I'm not mistaken you served briefly as hand of the king to Joffrey Baratheon in the capital. Did you read the letter he sent to the king, detailing the rise of dead men and very neary begging for more men to man the Wall?"

"... I do."

"The White Walkers have risen, your Grace and they intend to destroy us all. Surely, as the one who has done the impossible by bringing dragons back into this world again, this is not so difficult to believe. There are all sorts of fairy tales about these monsters."

"Fairy tales."

"Yes, well, I assure you, they are much scarier in person. And if they get past the Wall while we're still divided..."

Daenerys frowned softly, seeming to actually contemplate what's been put before her rather than dismissing it as Nymeria had been afraid she would. "You've seen these dead men?"

"We both have." Jon spoke up. "More than once."

"I didn't believe in them either." Nymeria offered. "Not until one of them got into Castle Black and tried to kill my grandfather. It was Jon who killed it and saved him. We need to ally ourselves. And we need to call a truce with Cersei. If we don't pour all of our focus North, it won't matter whose corpse sits the Iron Throne when Winter does come in force, and make no mistake, it is well underway."

"You'd have me withdraw my forces? Leave the Lannisters in their castles?"

"In all honesty, I'd prefer to have them fighting with us too, but your Hand knows better than anyone the odds of that happening. I don't like it either, but if you'd seen what I have, you'd know that what we do or don't like is about as significant as a fly on the wall right now. I don't want you to abandon your war, but isn't it smarter to wait until we're all not dead?"

For a long moment Daenerys was quiet, and then a new figure entered the room; Lord Varys, the master of whispers. He ascended the steps, moving closer to murmur something to the dragon-mother when she motioned him to do so. The colour drained from her face, though she quickly pulled her composure back together. Soon enough though, her eyes returned to Nymeria and Jon and Davos. "Please excuse my manners, but it seems there are... urgent matters that require my attention. We'll have baths drawn for you and supper sent to your rooms. It seems there will be matters we must discuss soon enough."

Jon hesitated a moment, looking to Nymeria, whose expression clearly said she felt it was safe here, that the decision was his entirely. "Thank you, Your Grace."

The three of them allowed the Dothraki to lead them out of the throne room and into the corridors, the large doors slamming shut behind them.

°

"You never told me about... all of that."

Nymeria turned to Jon with an apologetic look. "I know... It just never seemed important. What good is it at the Wall or beyond it to know that five generations ago, I had some Targaryen ancestor?"

"You were planning on telling Daenerys. You could have told me."

"I actually hadn't decided yet if I was going to tell her until we walked into the throne room and then..." She pursed her lips, fiddling with her fingers. "I'm sorry." She admitted finally. "I didn't mean to spring it on you."

He reached for her hand reassuringly. "We need to be on the same page. If we're going to do this, we have to tell each other the truth about everything. I'm never going to judge you, Nymeria."

"I know. But I didn't want you to have to keep that secret from anyone else. You heard Lord Royce. None of them trust a Targaryen." She rolled her eyes at that. "Even if, in all honesty, there's hardly any Targaryen blood left in my line at all."

He chuckled. "They're harsh, I'll give you that. But we've caught Daenerys' attention it seems. And they have you to thank for that."

She shot him a small smile. "Well, hopefully I can do more than catch her attention." her gaze turned out the large window to the dragons flying over the water. "Time will tell."