What Remains

Author's Notes: Personally I don't like the idea that Daenerys is going to follow in her fathers footsteps, is she ruthless? yes, a lot of the characters are including Tyrion, and Arya and Sansa. Is she impulsive? Yes, is she Cersei level evil and needs to be taken out? I don't think so. People break, people also heal. So if you feel the same, please read. If you'd like to compline about my point of view on the matter, please don't, I'm not posting this to start a debate, it's just been floating around in my head and I wanted to get it out.

Chapter One

'Are you sure about this?' Tyrion asked, not for the first time as he watched Jon ready the tack on his horse. 'Would you at least consider telling me where you're going?'

'I think it's for the best if no one knows.' Jon countered, again, they'd had this conversation numerous times in the last few days. 'Someone once told me that I should learn how to lie, I'm not sure I'll ever get there but maybe I can learn to just keep my mouth shut occasionally.'

'You don't trust me.' Tyrion concluded, it was fair he supposed, He'd made a lot of mistakes of late.

Jon's hands stilled and he turned to look at the smaller man. 'I trust you to do what you think is right for the realm, that's all I'm trying to do. It's best for everyone if no one knows. Now go be King, and do something about the smell in this gods foresaking city while you're at it.'

'Im not king.' Tyrion protested. 'Just Regent. Until the rightful rulers return.' He said it with such conviction that Jon winced, he had no desire the rule, he wasn't cut out for it, maybe if he'd been raised here in King's Landing it would have been different. He thought briefly of Robb and the lessons he'd had as a child, it had been instilled in him that he would lead, that he was worthy to do so, Jon had been taught to serve, to deffer to those that held titles, hard as he tried to overcome it he still struggled.

Tyrion shifted on his feet and tried a different approach. 'You could take her back to Dragonstone, the castle is yours, it belongs to House Targaryen.'

Jon turned to look at the figure that sat astride the other horse, her silver hair hidden beneath a hooded cloak, she stared straight ahead, not saying a word, Jon wasn't sure when she had last spoken. 'I don't think being couped up in that dreary old Castle is going to do her any good.' Jon sighed. 'Maybe someday we will return. But it won't be anytime soon.'

Tyrion nodded, he'd known it was a lost cause before he'd even started, but he felt he had to try. In truth he knew Jon was right, this was the best path forward. He held out his hand. 'Goodbye your Grace.' Jon reached out and grasped his hand. A smirk tilted Tyrion's lips 'Bastard.'

Jon gave a faint smile. 'Dwarf.'

Horse ready, Jon swung himself up into the saddle and took hold of reins of Daenerys' horse as well. Together they set out from Kings Landing while Tyrion watched, one of the few unsullied who had remained behind to guard the city broke the silence 'What do we do now?' He asked

Tyrion grinned. 'Now we play the game.'

'What game?' The soldier asked.

Tyrion rolled his eyes. 'Gods help me.'

The journey North was long and difficult, Jon tried to stay off the kingsroad for fear of being recognized, this meant that they camped in the woods and avoided inns and taverns, most nights Jon barely slept for fear of wild animals or bandits, and of course there was Dany to worry about. He made sure that she was never out of his sight, most of the time she went when he told her to go and did as he asked but in the back of his mind he was still terrified that she would wonder off or try to hurt herself. He lay beside her at night, in their tent, close enough to reach out and touch her if he had to , close enough that she could reach out to him if she needed to, but she never did.

In the mornings he would wake, exhausted and cold, he would coax her to eat something before he dismantled the camp and they set out again. The days began to blur, the silence again to press in on him, he'd never been much for conversation but he had always been surrounded by people who talked a lot, his younger siblings, Sam, Tormond, Tyrion, even Davos had liked to spin tales of his smuggling days. Eventually he started talking to Daenerys, though he might as well have been talking to himself, He spoke of his childhood, of his time at the wall, he told her stories old Nan had told him as a boy and recited the history of each kingdom as they came upon them, he had no idea if she was listening, he didn't know if she really understood what was happening anymore. She functioned well enough to take care of her basic needs but that was it. He wished she'd tell him to shut up as he rambled on but she remained silent, staring straight ahead.

They were half way through the Riverlands when he realized they were being followed, not by men but by wolves. He'd seen the tracks and he'd heard stories on his way down about a giant wolf pack that had preyed on the Lannister Army during the wars. The locals had said it was led by a she wolf as big as a horse who could kill a man with one snap of her jaws. Though Arya had made no mention of Nymeria in their time together in Winterfell he knew she had let her go somewhere around the Crossing. He just hoped the wolf remembered him.

In the end the wolves never showed themselves and they caused no trouble, they passed into the Vale and Jon risked staying at a little Inn so that they would have something to eat besides Rabbit and hopefully wash. He let the Innkeeper believe he was a soldier coming home from the latest war, with a southern bride. He told the man that she had lost most of her family and she wasn't taking it well, he thought bringing her home to his people would help. As he'd told Tyrion, he was no good at lying and this was so close to the truth it barely counted.

He paid to have a bath readied in their room while they ate, he'd bound her hair up as best he could that morning and tied a scarf about it to hide the colour. He would have been worried about someone seeing her eyes but she didn't look up long enough for anyone to see them. When he showed her the bath, there was a flitter of...something, she'd always loved hot water, she had told him once, on a boat, in what seemed like a different life, the hotter the better. The fact that she had responded to it, even just a little bit gave him hope, perhaps she could find her way back in time.

When he tried to help her undress, she stopped him, fingers curling over his, the look in her eyes told him she didn't want him to see her naked. He had no idea why, of the two of them, he was the only one who had any issue with their relation to each other and she had never been prudish about her nudity before. But he relented, he told her he'd been just outside the door if she needed anything. He listened to her, fearful that she would drown herself, but after what seemed like forever he heard her leave the tub and walk across the floor, when the sounds stopped and the bed creaked he let himself back in and found her under the furs, eyes closed, he didn't believe she was asleep but he let her be.

After he had bathed himself, scrubbing what felt like a pound of dirt from his skin and washing his hair several times, he dressed and joined her in the bed, there seemed little point in sleeping on the floor and he wasn't passing up the opportunity to sleep in a bed. Where they were going there wouldn't be any.

They crossed into the North on a day that almost felt like spring, the snow was, in places, starting to melt and the sky threatened rain though it didn't come. If history was to be believed a long summer should be followed by a long winter, however with the Night King gone perhaps things would be different.

The North posed the greatest risk of discovery for Jon, the people here knew him so he was extra cautious about avoiding settlements and road ways. He didn't want word reaching Sansa that he and Dany were in the North, he had no idea what she would do but he no longer trusted her. The precautions added extra time to their journey and it was with a huge feeling of relief that Jon finally saw the wall come into view.

They made it to Castle Black in the mid afternoon, the gates had been left open and the free folk had long since passed through, that was alright, Jon was sure they would find them eventually. Jon tethered the horses in the old stables, and took Daenerys up to the rooms that had once belonged to Maester Aemon, he sat her down in a chair as he got a fire going in the hearth, he was hoping there would still be some previsions in the cellars, thankfully the cold meant that food lasted longer here. Once the fire was blazing he left Daenerys to go look and was rewarded with a few potatoes and a turnip, he found additional supplies in the kitchen, he was shocked that Tormonds people had left anything behind on their way North.

He made a soup with the vegetables and the grouse he'd killed earlier. He wouldn't say his cooking skills were anything to brag about but it was better than being hungry. He handed Dany a bowl and urgered her to eat, sometimes she did so without much fuss, sometimes she seemed to forget what she was doing, and her food would go untouched unless he prompted her repeatedly. Today she sat staring into the flames as if they held answers to questions she didn't know how to ask.

'Why are you doing this?'

It had been so long since she'd made any noise at all that Jon almost dropped his bowl. He sat staring at her for what seemed like forever, he was hoping she would elaborate, that by staying silent perhaps he could coax more words out of her but she didn't say anymore so he gave in. 'I needed to take you somewhere safe, somewhere you can heal.'

She didn't say anything for a long time and he was sure she was gone again, off into whatever corner of her mind she had retreated to to hide from the pain. Then: 'Why are you doing this'

Jon sighed and put down his bowl, he left his chair and knelt in front of her, as he had after the victory feast in Winterfell. But the pledge of different this time. 'Because I love you. Because we are the only family each of us has left now.' It was true, Bran was not Bran anymore, not the boy he'd taught to hold a sword, who had climbed every wall in Winterfell, Arya was cold and distant, she didn't need or want anyone, and Sansa...Sansa had made her choice, for all her words of family she had stolen what was left of his mothers heritage from him when she told Tyrion the truth of Jon's Birth. The Starks were not his family anymore, as much as that pained him and there was only one other Targaryen alive.

'I'm not mad.' She whispered, she sounded so broken that he wanted to cry.

He took the bowl from her hands and set it down, taking her hands in his. 'I know you're not, you're angry, you're hurting, you have every right to feel those things. We're going to go up with the free Folk, away from all the intrigue and the power struggles. You told me once that when you were on the Dothraki sea you felt free, I can't take you back to Essos, it's too dangerous, you have too many enemies there but the Free Folk live much the same, and the rest of your blood riders are going to join us later, I think they'll be happy up here, once they get used to the cold. '

'You almost killed me.'

Jon cringed. 'Aye, I did. You were...dangerous. After Drogon, you weren't thinking properly, I couldn't let you go down that path. But I've never been very good at killing women.' He said the last part softly, another girl, another time.

'I'm not the mother of Dragons anymore.'

'Dany...'

'What am I if I'm not the mother of Dragons?'

'You're Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, and you are still alive.' A single tear traced a path down her check, but she turned her attention back to the fire. Jon didn't care, she'd spoken, there was still hope, that's all that mattered.