Falling Like || Jon Snow

49| 𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤

dragonstone

— IT WAS THE VERY NEXT DAY THAT DAENERYS INVITED NYMERIA TO THE WAR ROOM. She was surprised to find the dragon queen alone but for her table of plans and a pitcher of wine.

Nymeria raised a brow. "No guards?"

"Do you plan on killing me?" Daenerys replied, looking almost bemused.

Nymeria chuckled. "I suppose not."

She stood, pouring two goblets of wine and offering one to Nymeria. "It's not poisoned." she promised. "I imagine you've never gotten a taste of good Dornish wine up at the Wall. Call this a peace offering."

Accepting the goblet, Nymeria took a small sip, then blinked at it with a small smirk. "A shame that I've never tried it, really." She agrees. "The Dornish, it would seem, are far more talented than the Night's Watchmen."

"How did a woman come to join the Night's Watch?" Daenerys wondered.

Nymeria sighed, pausing for a moment before she continued. "When I was eleven years old, my father left Westeros. Lord Eddard Stark wanted to take his head for committing slavery, and he and my mother fled. They left me behind. Because of his crimes, I was scorned by most of the rest of my family. A year later, my grandfather summoned me to the Wall. He took me in as his ward."

Slowly, Daenerys nodded, deciding not to say anything about Jorah for now. "And if I'm not mistaken, you commanded the Watch briefly, did you not?"

"I did. Why do you ask?"

"I wish to know more about you, I suppose. You don't seem like the type to grasp at power, but you don't seem like one to give it away freely either. If an alliance is what you seek, we must understand one another better."

"The men would have strung me up." Nymeria told her simply. "They would have fought tooth and nail against a woman leading the Watch, and we didn't have the time for it with the Army of the Dead closing in. It was the only right thing to do, so I did it, even if I didn't want to."

The Dragon Queen's fingers tapped across the table, silence following for a long moment. Then she spoke again. "My fleet has been attacked. My allies from the Iron Islands and Dorne are dead."

Nymeria set down her wine. "Ah. Suddenly this feels as if it's in rather bad taste."

"If I know I can trust you... I would consider naming you the Princess of Dorne."

She frowned. "Why?"

"I can't risk Cersei winning favour with them. I need my allies back, and your mother was a Martell. They will follow you."

"Well..." Nymeria mused. "This works both ways. I'm not the only one who needs to earn trust."

Daenerys folded her hands together. "So what do you propose we do?"

A beat of quiet passed before an idea came to her. "Your Grace, are you aware that Dragonstone sits on a mountain of Dragonglass?"

"Dragonglass?"

"Volcanic glass. Maesters call it obsidian. It's capable of killing White Walkers. It's part of the reason we're here."

She seemed to consider that. "You want to mine it?"

"I'd like that, yes. Look, if we're lying about the Walkers, what harm will it do? You didn't even know it was here anyways. But if we can trust one another, if you'll fight with us, I'd say it'll come in pretty damn handy."

Daenerys stood, turning to watch the waves beyond the island for a moment before making for the door. "Come. Walk with me."

They made their way through the halls of the keep and beyond, onto the pathways rising and falling and twisting all around the island. At the sound of a dragon's roar, Nymeria glanced upwards, eyes sparkling as they caught on the largest of the three, a beast of black and deep red. "They're beautiful." she said softly.

Daenerys watched him joining his brothers in flying over the water with a fond look. "The world thought they were gone forever."

"And yet..." she watched them a moment longer. "The Mother of Dragons... your children have names, I take it?"

Daenerys nodded. "Viserion and Rhaegal were named for my brothers, Viserys and Rhaegar."

"I've heard stories about Rhaegar. People said he was incredible – incredible warrior, incredible prince... though I suppose he rather fell short in the marriage department. Still, they called him the Last Dragon." Her lips twitched. "I suppose that no longer rings quite so true."

"No indeed. Drogon is the largest. He was named after my husband, Khal Drogo. His Khalasar was meant to take me and my brother across the Narrow Sea and win us the Seven Kingdoms."

"Now you have a Khalasar of your own. You've become quite the force to be reckoned with over the years. The first time I ever heard about you, they called you a young girl in the east with baby dragons. Everyone imagined you'd be dead sooner than late."

"Many have tried."

Nymeria chuckled. "People used to say the same about me. No one imagined little Lady Mormont would survive the Wall, even with her grandfather looking out for her."

"We've both done well for ourselves." Daenerys agreed. "Perhaps as the ones who have brought about the unthinkable... we should be the first to begin reassessing what we think we know." The pair of them stopped along the stairs, watching the dragons. After a second, she sighed. "I am not considering pulling my forces back to allow Cersei to take back what we've won." She began. "But I will concede to your suggestion about the Dragonglass. I will supply you with what men and tools you need to mine it, and... if you can find a way to present some proof of this Army of the Dead..." she pursed her lips. "Well, we shall see."

Nymeria inclined her head with a tiny smile. "Thank you, Your Grace."

A/N:
Idk about you guys, but I picture Nymeria's style post-Wall to be very Mary Sibley from Salem.