A Song of Fire & Snow (GOT)(Jon Snow)

Chapter 50: Jon Snow

~Chains of Loyalty~

Jon Snow stood before the heavy wooden door of Tyrion's cell, a tangle of emotions roiling within him. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the dimly lit corridor, each step weighed down by the gravity of what he was about to face. He had wanted to speak with Tyrion since the chaos of King's Landing had settled after he heard about Daenerys locking him up, but the reality of their situation—both the world outside and the world between them—had cast a long shadow over his heart.

He pushed the door open, and the musty scent of damp stone met him. Tyrion sat on a simple wooden stool, his wrists shackled, his expression weary yet sharp. The light from the single flickering torch illuminated the stark angles of his face, revealing the wear and tear of recent events. Jon felt a pang of sorrow at the sight. Tyrion had been a steadfast ally and a friend, someone who had fought valiantly against the very tide that now swept over him.

"Jon," Tyrion said, his voice steady but tinged with a bitterness that echoed the reality of his confinement. "I suppose you've come to deliver the final verdict."

Jon swallowed hard, fighting the swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "I'm not here to judge you, Tyrion."

"Isn't that what they all say before the executioner arrives?" Tyrion replied, a sardonic twist to his lips. "I would expect nothing less from a Stark."

"Your execution isn't a foregone conclusion," Jon said, though he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. "I'll speak to Daenerys. I'll—"

"Save your breath, Jon." Tyrion interrupted, a sharp edge to his tone. "You're loyal to her, I understand that. But Varys was right about her. She won't stop until she has liberated the entire world, even if it means reducing it to ashes."

Jon felt his heart tighten at Tyrion's words. He couldn't deny the truth in them, not after witnessing the flames that had consumed King's Landing and the lives lost in a single afternoon. But to believe that Daenerys had become irredeemable, a tyrant in her own right, felt like a betrayal of everything they had fought for together.

"She lost everything," Jon said, his voice firm, though doubt gnawed at him. "Her brother, her advisors... her home. She's been through so much trauma. I can't just abandon her now."

"Is that what you call it?" Tyrion asked, leaning forward, his expression intense. "Trauma? She burned an entire city, Jon. Innocent men, women, and children—just to send a message. She believes she's the hero of this story, but she's become the villain."

Jon felt the walls closing in around him, the truth pressing heavy on his chest. He wanted to defend her, to stand by her as he always had, but he couldn't shake the image of the pyres and the screams that had echoed in his ears. "She doesn't see it that way. She thinks she's saving us from tyranny."

"And yet here we are, standing at the precipice of destruction," Tyrion said, his tone grave. "I know you love her, Jon. I loved her too, once. But you must understand, she is now the greatest threat to the people we both care about. Your sisters, the North... They'll never accept her as queen if she continues down this path."

The mention of his sisters struck Jon like a physical blow. He had never wanted to see Sansa or Arya hurt, yet he felt the weight of their loyalty to him—a loyalty that might very well turn into a weapon against Daenerys. "They'll always be loyal to me," Jon replied, the conviction in his voice masking the turmoil brewing beneath. "They've always supported my choices, even if they disagreed."

Tyrion shook his head, a sad smile touching his lips. "Do you really believe that? Sansa has already shown her hand. She revealed your parentage because she doesn't want Daenerys to rule over the North. She knows the danger of your bloodline. And trust me, she will not bend the knee."

Jon's throat tightened as Tyrion's words sank in. He had trusted his sisters implicitly, but Tyrion's perspective made him question everything. The thought of Sansa's distrust and Arya's protective instincts hung heavily in the air, making it difficult to breathe. "But they can't choose my path for me," he argued, desperation creeping into his voice. "I'm not the enemy here."

"Neither am I," Tyrion replied, his gaze piercing. "But you must understand, Jon: you have the choice now, and you must make it soon. If Daenerys remains unchecked, her vision of liberation will lead to the deaths of countless more people."

Jon took a deep breath, the weight of the world crashing down upon him. He was standing on the brink of a decision that would shatter his heart, a choice that could tear apart everything he held dear. "What do you want me to do?" he asked quietly, the fight leaving his voice.

"I'm asking you to be the man I know you can be," Tyrion replied, sincerity seeping into his tone. "To protect the people. You need to confront her, Jon. You need to stop her before it's too late."

Jon felt a wave of nausea wash over him as the gravity of Tyrion's request settled in. Confront Daenerys? How could he even begin to do that? "You want me to betray her?" he said, disbelief coloring his voice.

"It isn't betrayal if you're trying to save her from herself," Tyrion countered, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't just about her, Jon. This is about the realm, about the future of everything we've fought for. If you don't act, you will always be in danger because of your parentage."

Jon's heart pounded in his chest as Tyrion's words echoed in his mind. He could feel the past, the weight of his Stark lineage, pressing down on him like a vice. "What if she turns against me?" Jon asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She already has," Tyrion replied bluntly. "She sees you as a threat, and she will do whatever it takes to eliminate it. She will not hesitate to harm you or anyone you love. You have to think about Alarys, about your wife, and your future... what if you want to have children one day? They will instantly be a threat"

At the mention of Alarys, a surge of protectiveness ignited within Jon. The child they had created together was a part of him, a symbol of hope amidst the chaos. But the thought of Daenerys discovering Alarys's pregnancy sent ice through his veins. He could already envision the fury that would erupt if she felt threatened by the existence of a new heir.

"I can't let her do that," Jon said, shaking his head fiercely. 

"Exactly," Tyrion interrupted, his voice sharp. "And that's why you must act. This isn't just about Daenerys; it's about everyone who stands in her way, including you and your family. You must choose, Jon. Now."

The walls of the cell seemed to close in around him as Jon's mind raced. Every moment spent in this turmoil felt like an eternity, and the weight of his indecision hung heavily on his shoulders. The flickering torchlight cast shadows on the walls, and he felt as though he were trapped in a web of conflicting loyalties.

"What will it be?" Tyrion's question lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken consequences.

Jon's heart pounded in his chest, a chaotic rhythm that mirrored the turmoil within him. He thought of Alarys, her laughter, the way she had lit up his world. He thought of their future, their child—their future nowflickered like a candle flame in the storm.

"I don't want to be king," Jon finally said, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "I've never wanted the Iron Throne. I just wanted to protect those I care about."

"Then protect them," Tyrion urged, his voice a plea wrapped in steel. "You have to make the hard choices, Jon. Before it's too late."

As Jon turned away from Tyrion's cell, he felt the burden of his choice pressing heavily on him. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and he was caught in a whirlwind of loyalty, love, and the specter of duty. The path ahead was fraught with danger and heartbreak, but he knew one thing: he would do whatever it took to protect those he loved—even if it meant making a choice that could tear his heart in two.

He stepped into the corridor, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in the silence. Jon walked away with the knowledge that the choices he made in the coming days would shape the fate of Westeros, and perhaps even the legacy of his own bloodline. As he made his way through the darkened halls of the Red Keep, Jon knew he had to find Daenerys and confront the truth that lay before them. The weight of destiny lay heavy on his heart, and he could only hope he would have the strength to bear it.