Come Only Baby, This Is Not the End of the World

This is Chapter Two

Okay let's hope this chapter is to your liking! Decided to split the first chapter into two because 7K words is a bit long. Woops!

Dany

Dany felt like a fool wearing such a tight dress, even if the colour was flattering on her. She was nursing a pearl clutch at her side.

"Well we ought to go in," Viserys decided. The pair were standing out in front of a little Spanish cafe. Drogo had asked them to meet there, much to Viserys' surprise and distaste. He'd expected something grander.

Dany admired the quaint little flowerbeds under the windows, and the way the pink awning waved in the wind. But it didn't calm her nerves at all.

"Hello yes, we're the Targaryens," Viserys simply said as he greeted the waitress.

"Party of two?"

"No…we're supposed to be joining someone. Drogo Dothrak?" Dany's brother nearly hissed this comment. She didn't know why he always expected recognition in the streets. The Targaryens siblings hadn't been of interest to the public or the press in quite some time. It had been nineteen years since the scandal with their late father, and they'd fled England.

"My friends, this way," an older, handsome English gentleman greeted the Targaryens, gesturing for them to follow him. Dany had a feeling he appeared a little older than he was. He had lines on his face, as well as strawberry blonde whiskers. His eyes were kind. This did make Dany feel slightly more at ease.

They had a table at a window. Before they sat, the man introduced himself as Jorah Mormont, Drogo's translator and assistant. Jorah and Dany sat at one table with Drogo, while Viserys was sat at a table nearby with a long-legged brunette named Doreah. Viserys was offended at first, but Dany watched Doreah stroke Viserys' leg with her own, under the table. Viserys was now distracted. A dragon he might be, but he was not a man to focus on more than one thing at a time. It seemed flirtation took precedent over Dany's nerves at present.

Drogo was a big man. That was the first thing to be said. He was more than twice Dany's height and made almost entirely of muscle. It was a wonder that he found a shirt to fit him. He wore a grey muscle shirt, and green cargo pants. It was hardly a formal ensemble, but he had such an impressive air about him; an invisible layer of intimidation surrounding him. One could hardly question his importance.

He barely spoke a word of English, and seemed to have a stubbornness about learning it.

"Do you like your steak?" Dany asked, trying to be pleasant. Jorah repeated her question to Drogo in his own language. Drogo nodded and continued to chew. Dany ate her salad in silence for a while. Jorah gave her a comforting smile.

They proceeded with this manner for some time. Dany would ask basic questions, and Jorah would translate. Drogo would grunt a short response. The conversation lulled again and Dany found herself drawing designs on her plate with the remains of her salad dressing. She looked over at Viserys. He was no longer playing footsie with Doreah, but rather looking intensely at their table. When he caught Dany's eye he gave her a stern look; a reminder of why she was there.

"Mr. Mormont…,"

"Please, Mr. Mormont is my father," Jorah laughed, "and that's much too formal."

"But calling you just Jorah seems…,"

"Then call me Sir Jorah, if you must."

Dany blushed but smiled all the same.

"Well Sir Jorah, I am sorry to become so assertive, but I feel as though now is the time that I get some real answers out of Drogo. I want to know…what does he see in our union? What can I expect from him? What are his plans? I want to make sure our values and goals are aligned before we go any further, I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, my dear."

Sir Jorah turned to Drogo and quickly translated. Drogo turned his gaze directly to Dany for the first time in the night. He had a smile on his face, which startled Dany. It wasn't as innocent as Sir Jorah's smiles. It was almost a smirk, but with more warmth than Viserys' smiles. It was playful.

"Drogo says that first and foremost, he is enchanted by your beauty. You see, he has had a number of suitors, but you are the first who has affected him so. He believes that you will make a good wife, as well as a mother to his children in time. He wants a woman of strength who can be there for him, but also live her own life. He will be busy with his duties to the military and his people, after all. But he thinks you could be happy with him."

Dany considered this. She wasn't sure she was ready to start a family just yet, but the idea of a home; a place where she belonged, warmed her heart. She had lived her life too long at the command of others. It was time for her to start her own life.

She now spoke directly to Drogo, though she knew he wouldn't understand her words.

"I appreciate that. But I must ask…the reason my brother and I sought you out for this connection is because we think you can help us. My brother and I are the children of Aerys Targaryen. He was the Prime Minister of England almost twenty years ago, and he was wrongfully killed. Now a traitor rules the country. Viserys should be Prime Minister. He shouldn't be hiding his days out in Spain. And I support him. I want to go home someday. Will you help us with this? We will take whatever we can get."

"Drogo says that he has no shame when he tells you that he cares little for the matters of the English. He barely cares for what happens in Spain. His loyalty and first concern is with his people: the Dothraki. But he admires your passion. So if you will have his hand in marriage, he will do what he can to help you. He will support your brother financially. He will find him a job somewhere with the Spanish government. Eventually he will have the credentials to get himself back to England and begin his campaign for Prime Minister."

Dany pushed her salad plate away from her, sat back in her chair and sighed. This was a big decision. Probably the biggest one she'd ever have to make.

"What do you think, Daenerys?"

"Do you believe he is genuine, Sir Jorah?" Dany nearly whispered, though she knew Drogo couldn't comprehend her, "I am putting my entire future on the line here. Mine and my brother's. It's very important to the both of us that he return to England. It's where he belongs. I want your advice, Sir Jorah, if you'll give it…"

"It's not my place to say, dear. I come from your home country of England, where most would raise an eyebrow to an arranged marriage. But I believe that Drogo is a good man. I have worked with him for some time. He shares your brother's passion for getting what he wants, so I'm sure that will be nothing new to you. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt you."

"Do you think with work and dedication, we could have a happy marriage?"

Jorah hesitated.

"Sometimes that is not enough…but sometimes it is. You'll know the answer in your heart."

"And what about his vows to help my brother? Viserys might not be happy to hear that Drogo will start him with the Spanish government."

"Your brother must be patient. Small steps are the best steps. And this is your first step, Daenerys. What will you do?"

Drogo looked at Jorah for direction, having been neglected from the conversation. Jorah gave a stiff nod, and Drogo reached into his pocket. He produced a little velvet box. Dany had a pretty good idea what was in it. She looked back at Viserys for confirmation. His eyes blazed. She knew he wasn't happy that she would marry, and yet he was probably overjoyed that they were making this connection.

Dany nodded and Drogo slipped the ring on her finger.

Sansa

Sansa tried her best to be quiet as she tiptoed out of her room that night. Arya was snoring as usual, and Myrcella was sleeping soundly, although it was probably the only time in her life that she'd slept on an inflatable mattress. The daughter of the Prime Minster was sixteen- Arya's age. She had golden hair like her mother and a pretty heart-shaped face. Sansa had spent most of her life wishing she were blonde, but somehow seeing Myrcella sleeping, looking like a little doll, made her proud of her dark red hair. It set her apart.

She didn't close the door all the way on her way out, and she walked softly down the spiral staircase that lead to the main level of the house. Jaime and Tyrion Lannister, Cersei's brothers, had arrived an hour after dinner. They were sleeping in the guest room- Theon's bedroom.

Tyrion was a man of wit and sarcasm, who liked to try and charm everyone (particularly the women) with his words. The only one of the Starks who seemed to appreciate him was Jon. Jaime Lannister was handsome. If only he were younger, Sansa thought. Not that Joffrey wasn't her prince charming. She could simply see that he got his good looks from his uncle too. In fact, Joffrey seemed like the perfect Lannister model. He didn't have much of his father in him at all. Thank God, Sansa found herself thinking.

Sansa turned the corner and entered the kitchen. She opened up the fridge and grabbed a carton of almond milk.

"Hello, little bird."
Sansa held back a scream. From the light of the fridge she could see a figure sitting at the kitchen table. She shut the door, took a step back, and turned the kitchen light on.

"No need to be alarmed. I'm Sandor Clegane. I serve the Baratheons."

Sansa held a hand over her heart, trying to calm herself. Sandor was a rather tall man. He looked strong and well-built, although not as big as she'd heard he was. He must have been in his mid to late 30s, and he had brown hair and a beard. One side of his face was burned severely; a red, patchy mess of skin. There was no eyebrow on that side of his face. He scared her, but he wasn't hideous. He wasn't handsome, but he had a strong, solemn dark energy about him. Something that intrigued Sansa just as much as it scared her.

"I apologize, Sir. I didn't know you were there."

"No need to call me Sir. Anyway, I guess I should have announced myself."

"Are you just going to sit there in the dark, all night?"

Sansa couldn't help but forget her manners. She opened up a cupboard and took out a glass.

"It's my job."

Sansa hardly thought the role of security guard involved sitting in a stranger's kitchen in the dark, but it didn't seem Sandor was one for words. Besides, she didn't really want to talk to him. She just wanted to sit in silence and drink her milk. It helped her sleep, especially on nights when she was anxious like this. She'd been thinking about her future, and Joffrey, and her parents, and Jon Arryn's death, and what it meant for the country. She'd also been thinking about her role in the universe. It was just one of those nights.

"Would you like a glass of milk, Sir?"

"It's not Sir. And sure."

Sansa poured out two glasses of almond milk, and passed the second glass to Sandor at the table. She leaned against the kitchen counter. They drank in silence for some time.

"What the fuck was that?" Sandor finally said, having finished his glass.

"Almond milk. I'm vegan."

"You're what now?"

"I don't drink or eat any animal products."

"I see."

Sansa didn't know why but she poured another glass for her and Sandor and they stayed there together for some time before she finally went back to sleep. She knew tomorrow would be a big day.

Dany

Dany had never really thought of her wedding day. She'd always expected to just spend her life at Visery's side. After all, they'd been together for so long. She hadn't had a mother to fill her head with wedding bells and the sounds of cans clattering at the back of a vehicle saying "just married". She hadn't had a father to scrutinize her choice of partner and be overprotective. All she had was this idea Viserys had come up with one day: Dany would marry a man of some importance so they could forge a strong connection in order to return to England and get what they wanted.

But until now the plan had seemed very hypothetical. Even after the engagement ring was on her finger, it didn't feel real. Drogo seemed like an interesting man. He intimidated her, but he didn't seem like a bad man. She liked what he'd said about them starting a family and having a home. She liked the idea of him helping Viserys out. But other than that, he was a man she'd met only yesterday. She couldn't help but think what Jorah had said about marriage being more than work and dedication. Was it important that she love him before she committed? She supposed she didn't have time to think of that.

They wasted no time. They were to be married today. The engagement ring was only a gesture really. The wedding ring would be on her finger before the day was over. Dany thought that a quick court wedding would be more than sufficient, but Viserys insisted they held a ceremony. That man would never turn down an opportunity for publicity.

"Dany?" There was a knock on the door and Doreah entered. Her Maid of Honour was wearing a sleek silk dress that was deep blue. It matched her eyes. Doreah was only Dany's Maid of Honour because Dany knew no one else. And Dany was almost certain Doreah was now sleeping with Viserys. But there wasn't much Dany could do about that.

"How are you feeling, honey?"

Dany was sitting in front of a makeup desk and mirror. She was in one of the many rooms in Drogo's Spanish estate. Irri and the other assistants Drogo had hired for Dany had done her makeup. On her request, they'd left her fairly natural. Just a simple, light eyeshadow look, a bit of pink blush, and a shimmy nude lipstick. Even with such little makeup on, Dany looked at her reflection and hardly knew herself. She was a bride. What did that mean, truly?

"Shall we go out to the backyard? The minister is waiting. So is your husband."

He's not my husband yet, Dany thought, but she nodded.

"Is Sir Jorah there?"

"Certainly he is. So are a few members of the press. Your brother is happy with that," Doreah smirked as if they were two naughty sisters, instead of complete strangers both entering into a strange and foreign situation.

She took Doreah's hand.

Jon

The Starks barely had room for everyone at the dinner table. Robert sat at one end, a King in his mind, and Ned at the other. Cersei and Joffrey sat at either side of Robert, Catelyn and Robb were beside Ned. Jaime and Tyrion were next to Cersei and Sansa was between Joffrey and Robb.

Arya, Myrcella, Tommen, Bran, and Rickon sat a table in the kitchen. Arya complained that she'd been sat at the "kid's table". Ned argued that it was just extra seating, but it really was the table for those who weren't directly involved in the night's impending events. Jon new very well that Joffrey would propose to Sansa at any moment. The adults all needed to be there to assure and congratulate her. To make sure she made the "right" decision. Although there was hardly any doubt Sansa would turn him down.

Theon and Osha served the meals. In between courses, they talked and ate outside on the patio. Sandor sat with them, although he didn't join their conversations. Jon had been offered at the "not-kid's-kid's-table". Insulted by Catelyn's treatment of him as usual, Jon chose to eat outside with the servants.

There had been laughter and loud chatter coming out of the dining room during the main meal. Suddenly the room went quiet. Jon wished he were in there when it happened. He wished he could see the surprise on Sansa's face. The disappoint on Catelyn and Ned's faces. The Anger on Arya's. The smugness of Cersei. The pride of Robert. The amusement of Tyrion. The joy of Myrcella and Tommen. The overprotective brother look that Robb would go for. The indifference of Bran. Jon would miss all those people in there, with their dangerous emotions tousled about. He was always on the verge. Too attached not to care, but pushed away so he couldn't be a part of it. It made him sadder than he'd realized.

There was a round of applause and chatter again coming from the dining room. Osha leaned in to Jon and Theon.

"That'll be Sansa engaged to Joffrey, then," she said knowingly.

Theon blushed brightly and frowned. The stupid git was in love with Jon's sister.

"Yeah," Jon said. Out of curiosity, he had a look at the Hound's face. It was blank. Jon wished he could be that uninterested.

"Well now! Looks like I haven't arrived too late to the party."

Jon turned around and found himself grinning as his Uncle Benjen approached their patio table. He had some gifts in his arm which he dropped on the table for later. He gave his nephew a firm hug and a clap on the back.

"Good God, man. You're almost taller than me now. Where's the rest of the family?"

"Inside at dinner. Sansa's just got engaged to Joffrey."
"Too bad," Benjen said simply. No one there disagreed with him.

"Do you think we could have a word, Jon?"

"We better clear dinner and get dessert out," Osha elbowed Theon in his side, "C'mon, Sandor, you help us."

Sandor Clegane didn't seem like the type who would help serve dessert, but he joined them inside nonetheless, leaving Jon and Benjen alone.

"Your father texted me last night. He says you're still adamant about joining the army. The fuck's that about?"

Benjen was a lieutenant himself, having served many years in the British army. But Benjen had always been protective of Jon. He was the closest thing he had to a child. Though he spoiled his nieces and nephews rotten, he had a soft spot for Jon, which Jon never understood. He appreciate it, of course, considering the treatment he received from Catelyn. Sure, Robb and him were close, and he was adored by Arya and the younger siblings. But Sansa still acted unsure around Jon, and Catelyn encouraged this behaviour. She created an environment where he was always a stranger in his own home.

"I want to do something. I can't keep sitting here strumming away on my guitar, getting nowhere. Besides, it's not fair to them," Jon referred to his father and Catelyn, "I don't pay any rent and I don't contribute to anything. I know they wish I were going to school, but that's not happening. Might as well let Theon have my side of the room. I could be helpful somewhere else, you know?"
Benjen sighed.

"I respect your thought process, Jon. But dedicated yourself to the military is a serious commitment. You've got to think it through. Don't just do it to escape. You should be able to live your life. Don't worry about Catelyn or even Ned. Just do what you want to do."

"But I want to join the army."

Benjen opened his mouth to say something more when there was a shriek from inside. It was Catelyn, soon joined by shouts and cries from others.

"Oh Bran!" Catelyn sobbed, and Jon feared the worst. He knew Benjen was right. He could never be rid of this damn family. The Starks would be around until the end of the world, and he would be at their side.