A/N

Hi! This is a new story I wrote with my good friend, Qyburnsghost. She made the lovely cover photo.

We are starting a new Jonerys discord. Hope to see you there :) Had to disguise the link (just remove the dashes). If it doesn't work, you can message me ;)

h-t-t-p-:-/-/-discord-.-g-g-/4ugrBX7

Prologue

The hateful black sails of the pretender could be seen from her balcony, gentle waves lapping against the bows of at least a hundred ships surrounding their island. She fisted the fabric of her gown, wanting to scream but all she could do was sob as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Not an hour before, her mother had received a raven with the devastating news that Viserys had been defeated in battle at Dunkensdale by Jon Snow. Whether he was alive or dead, they did not know, but she could not shake the thought that she had lost another brother to a dark haired brute. If Viserys was struck down, no rubies would scatter from his armor as they had with Rhaegar, their House only a shadow of its former glory.

Her tears had only just begun to fall when the horns rang out in the fading light, the pretender, or Jaehaerys Targaryen as he liked to call himself, had arrived. She ground her teeth at the offending sight of the red emblem of the three headed dragon on his banners. She'd heard harrowing tales of the Northern fiend, the supposed son of her long dead brother Rhaegar and the she-wolf of Winterfell, Lyanna Stark. They purported that he had been raised there secretly by his mother, under the protection of the Warden of the North, Eddard Stark. In all these years, a word had never been breathed to them about his existence, but no sooner had her brother stormed Dragonstone with his own force of Unsullied men, Jon Snow had staked his own claim, the power of the North, Riverlands and Vale behind him.

The usurper, Robert Baratheon had left the realm in absolute shambles. He slaughtered and destroyed her family all for the love of the Winter Rose, and yet after he'd murdered Rhaegar at the Trident, he'd discarded the Stark girl for a golden lion. Rumors had it that he considered Lyanna Stark soiled after Rhaegar had had her, and he permitted her return to Winterfell to live out her days.

Robert had three children by Cersei Lannister and it seemed the realm would live in relative peace, until it was discovered that they weren't his children at all, but the bastard children of her own twin brother, Jamie Lannister. The years had done nothing to dull Robert's wrath. The Queen and her Kingsguard brother were quickly executed, along with their youngest children Myrcella and Tommen. Tywin Lannister had managed to whisk his oldest grandson safely away to Casterly Rock, and the old King's heart gave out before he could ever finish the revenge he had started.

With no heirs left, the Baratheon brother clashed viciously for the throne, bleeding the land and the people once again. It was said that Stannis Baratheon used blood magic to murder his younger brother, and when Stannis set to take the capitol, Viserys had taken Dragonstone. Stannis Baratheon and Jon Snow met in the Riverlands, near the Trident, that cursed place where her brother was slain. It was said that the bastard of Winterfell had attacked Stannis so savagely, it had taken four of his own men to pull him off the last Baratheon after he was already dead.

Viserys had been so sure that he would be successful in his campaign against the false dragon, Jon Snow. The last time she saw him had been on the shores below. He was standing in black and shining armor, a gift from Magister Mopatis, looking as confident as she'd ever seen him. "A northern bastard is no match for a true king."

She moaned in anguish thinking of her brother and dashed back inside her chambers. If she was going to be taken captive from the home of her ancestors, the very place of her birth, she was not going to go quietly. Laying out her bathrobe on the bed, she rushed to her brazier where she kept her dragon eggs. Illyrio Mopatis had gifted them to her brother at the start of the war, but since Viserys had left to lead their army, Dany had become fascinated with them, dreaming once that they'd' even hatched. She kept them in her room, usually warming them with fire. She lifted them carefully from the brazier, feeling them warm to the touch. One black and glistening with crimson swirls, and the other red and with bronze speckles. Wrapping them up in her robe, she threw them over her shoulder and retrieved a dagger she kept hidden under her bed.

The keep was buzzing with excitement, and she saw guards running down the hall as she peeked out of her room. Once it was clear, she slipped out, taking a route she hoped would be deserted.

"Where is Daenerys?" she heard her mother call, her voice tight with fear. "Find her quickly and bring her here!"

Dany sprinted down the halls and through the corridors until the cool night air kissed her skin. Her shoulder began to ache under the weight of her cargo and she flung it over her other shoulder while she hastened down the steps of the dragon's tail stairway. Aegon's Garden was just ahead. She grabbed a torch just as she passed into the haven of towering thorny hedges and wild roses. Ever since they had arrived nearly three years ago, Dany had spent much of her time in this peaceful garden, reflecting on their present situation and dreaming of her ancestors. When she dreamt that the dragons had hatched, it had been in the garden, below the statue of a snarling black dragon, shaped by the arcane arts.

She was panting when she reached the foot of the statue, relieving her shoulders of their burden as she carefully set the eggs there. Thorny rose bushes grew around the statute in messy, sweet smelling tangles, and they lit quickly as she set the flame of the torch against them. Frantically she ran about gathering kindling for the fire. When the eggs were bathing in flame, she took out her dagger and pressed it to her palm. Her heart leapt in her throat and she sucked in a breath before she dragged the sharp tip across her flesh, hissing in pain as warm blood trickled down her fingers.

It took her longer to muster the nerve to cut into the flesh of her other palm, but when it was done, she felt calmer than she had since they had crossed the Narrow Sea. Kneeling before the flames, she looked up at the face of the snarling black statue before placing a hand over each of her eggs. She's read about blood magic during the many hours she had spent in the library of Dragonstone. Such a gift would require more sacrifice than she could pay that night, but she prayed to Visenya and Rhaeneys for mercy, promising she would repay the debt.

She did not startle as she felt the eggs grow soft as they began to pulsate, nor when the shells began to crack beneath her aching hands. When the guards came rushing down the steps to find her, she was cradling the scaly hatchlings in her arms. They stood frozen at the sight of her covered in soot and holding creatures no living person had seen in generations.

She did not wait for them to tell her that her mother was looking for her but simply strode past them, taking the path back to the keep. Rhaella had fallen to her knees when she had seen, but by necessity, had recovered quickly. Lord Manderly was making his way to meet with her to discuss terms of surrender.

When it was all said and done, not even bringing dragons back into the world could save her. They would be taken to King's Landing, where the pretender Jon Snow was beginning his reign. Daenerys had been afforded two choices; she could become his prisoner or his bride.

The sun was still high in the cloudless sky when they reached the port of King's Landing. The heat reminded her of being back in Braavos, a place that felt more like home to her than Westeros ever had. Standing on the deck of the ship, she took in the sight of the pale red stone of the infamous Red Keep with its seven drum towers, surrounded by massive curtain walls. Her mother stood next to her with a face void of emotion.

Dany felt her body tense to look upon the place that had been the subject of her childhood nightmares. The place where her family, the young and old, had been brutally slaughtered. She thought of her little hatchlings who she had been forced to tuck away in bird cages, and she felt sick with worry. If she had nothing else in the world, at least she would have them; her scaly children, born of her ancestors' mercy to her desperate pleas.

It wasn't long before they were surrounded by kingsguard in their white cloaks and shining armor, and they led them down the hot dusty streets. Crowds had gathered; their shouts were so loud, Dany could not discern if they were of anger or celebration. A chill went up her spine when they passed under the great arch of the king's gate, remembering her lessons about King Maegor I, who had his wife's body dismembered into seven pieces, one part mounted above each of the seven gates. Her ancestors may have built the Red Keep, but she did not feel welcome.

The serpentine steps of the Red Keep felt endless but she'd have gladly kept climbing if she could have avoided entering the throne room of the pretender king. She could feel her limbs begin to tremble as the doors of the great hall were opened; her mother's steady hand taking hers. The room was far bigger than the throne room on Dragonstone with great braziers lit around the massive pillars that lined the path to the Iron Throne. The sun was shining through the tall window at the end of the hall, giving her a view of the infamous throne. Even at a distance, she could see it was a hideous monstrosity of jagged and twisted metal, and seated at the top, was the man who was soon to be her husband.

Dark grey dragon skulls were hung about the room, the black holes of their hallowed eyes watching her closely. If it were under different circumstances, she'd like to inspect them all in turn, learning each of their names. A small court was assembled, and Dany did her best to hold her head high, refusing to look afraid in the face of her enemies. The room was so quiet she imagined she could hear her heart pumping inside of her chest, and it grew louder the nearer she drew to the dreaded throne. A beautiful middle aged woman with dark hair stood at the false king's side. She wore a regal expression but Dany thought she could see a sadness behind her eyes.

The guards left them before the platform of the throne, and Dany could feel the king's gaze upon her. Training her eyes straight ahead, her body gave a start as the dark haired woman spoke in a loud clear voice. "Welcome home Queen Rhaella and Princess Daenerys. You stand in the presence of Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, third of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Her mother gave a graceful curtsey and Dany mimicked her actions begrudgingly.

"This must be a joyous day for you, Your Grace," the woman continued, "to finally meet your grandson."

"If he is my grandson, Lady Stark," Rhaella replied stoutly, "then a joyous day it would be indeed."

Suddenly Jaehaerys stood from his seat and descended the steps until he stood only a few feet away. Dany had not expected him to be so comely and she felt a flutter in her stomach despite her misgivings. He was as tall as Viserys, with dark curls that were pulled back away from his face. His grey eyes roamed the features of her face, making her feel small under his scrutiny. His garments were all black, save for the red accents along his collar and sleeves. Whether he was a Targaryen or a pretender, he certainly believed the latter.

He looked between them. "I hope your journey was not too difficult. I've been waiting a long time to meet both of you."

Dany looked to her mother only to see her skin had gone pale as she stared at the young man before her, and all at once, Dany became aware of a great, white wolf that was stalking towards them. The massive beast stood near as tall as her with a bushy tail and penetrating red eyes. How could an animal have such eyes? How was it she had not noticed him before? He had to be the terrifying direwolf she had heard so many stories about, the very one Jaehaerys was said to ride into battle, allowing him to feast on the flesh of his enemies.

Her thoughts began to race with all of the frightful tales she had heard of her supposed nephew, king, and future husband. She heard it said that he would toy with his enemies for days or weeks on end before brutally executing them himself. Sometimes, it was whispered, he would feed them to his direwolf while they lived, screaming and begging for death. He broke the spirits of his enemies, and it was said, his executions were so brutal, grown men would become faint and look away in disgust.

The direwolf stood at his master's side, quiet as a tomb, joining him in regarding Dany curiously. A chill ran up her spine as the wolf sauntered towards her and she felt frozen, afraid to even twitch. His breath hot against her skin as it took in her scent. The king's eyes were on her still, scrutinizing her reaction, and his callousness lit a spark in her belly.

"Don't be afraid, Princess," the pretender told her as his wolf returned to his side. "Ghost is only a threat to those I would consider my enemies."

Recognizing the threat, she glowered at her nephew. "I am not afraid," she told him, stiffening her spine. "You should teach your beast some manners… Your Grace."

Rhaella squeezed her hand in warning, and another wave of fear doused the flame that had only just begun to burn within her.

The king exchanged a look with his wolf with the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. "You're right, Princess, our journey home has been long and bloody. Perhaps we've both forgotten our manners. We wish for you to be comfortable here in your new home."

His words snapped the tether that had been holding her together and she felt hot tears well in her eyes as she clutched her mother's arm. "Muña, Muña, iksan zūgagon! Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon naejot sagon zȳhon dāria. Jaelan naejot jikagon lenton." (Mother, I am afraid! I don't want to be his queen. I want to go home.)

Her mother's eyes were already red with tears, but she spoke gently and caressed Dany's cheek. "Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, ñuha riña. Kesā sagon ȳgha kesīr. Iksan lēda ao" (Do not be afraid, my will be safe here. I am with you.)

The king raised his eyebrows and spoke to the guards at her side, "Take Princess Daenerys to her chambers and see that she has everything she needs."

Dany felt her heart sink and she held tightly to her mother's hand. "Muña!"

"Mirre kessa sagon sȳrī, Daenērys," Rhaella told her, releasing her hand. (All will be well, Daenerys)

The guards took her arms gently, but Dany wrenched herself free, and demanded, "What have you done with my dragons?"

The pretender studied her before his eyes raked over her form. Dany took a step back, crossing her arms in defiance, feeling the stare of both man and wolf.

"You'll see them soon enough," he answered cooly, and then after a subtle nod, the kingsguard led her out of the hall.

Dany dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from crying as she was taken up more serpentine steps, down long and unfamiliar corridors, toward what she could only assume was the inner keep. The further they went, the more decadent and bright the surroundings became, with ornate pillars and colorful tapestries.

When they reached the chamber door, they released her arms, opening the door for her as though they had simply escorted her there. Inside the room was richly furnished, with light streaming in from an open balcony, and floor length curtains billowing softly in a warm breeze. Two young women were sitting beside one another in armchairs below a great window. The auburn haired girl tucked her needle into her embroidery while the girl with large brown eyes flashed a smile before closing her book. They both stood up and curtseyed before her with graceful beauty.

"Princess Daenerys," the brown haired girl greeted her. "Welcome to King's Landing. I hope your travels were most agreeable. I am Margaery Tyrell and this is Sansa Stark."

"I am very happy to meet you, Your Grace." The Stark girl's vivid blue eyes shone with a sincerity that made Dany wonder if they believed she had truly come to this place of her own volition.

Dany opened her mouth to politely return their greeting when she was startled again by the massive white direwolf, who casually loped across the room. Dany's heart leapt into her throat and then she growled in frustration. "Why is that beast here?"

The hopeful smile fell from Sansa's face. "Ghost can be intimidating, Princess, but I assure you he is quite gentle."

Dany glared at the wolf. Ever silent, she hadn't even known he had followed her, and this angered her all the more. Tears were welling in her eyes again, and her voice trembled as she spoke, "I am not familiar with the customs of the North, Lady Sansa, but I've never heard of a princess having to suffer a wolf in her own chambers!"

Lady Sansa's bottom lip began to quiver, but she marched right up to Ghost as though he were no more than a house cat. "Come, Ghost," she beckoned him. "Time to leave."

The direwolf simply stared at her before sitting back on his haunches.

The Stark girl's cheeks reddened as she tugged at the thick white fur around Ghost's neck but he only sat patiently. When she gave up with an irritated huff, he laid his head over his great paws. "My apologies, Your Grace. My siblings' direwolves are not so well mannered as mine."

"You have a direwolf, Lady Sansa?"

The girl's eyes went round. "Yes, Your Grace. Her name is Lady."

Margaery glided to Sansa's side. "Perhaps you can speak with the king about the matter?"

"Yes, I'll go at once," she replied with a well practiced curtsey before she darted out of the room.

When they were alone, Lady Margaery smiled at her again. "Sansa is a sweet girl. I've grown quite fond of her in a short time."

"She's the King's cousin?"

"Yes, but he regards her as a sister. They grew up together in Winterfell after all."

Dany crossed her arms and made her way out onto the balcony. The sun warmed her skin as she looked out over the sprawling city.

Margaery followed, and opened her mouth to speak but Dany cut her off with a look. "I wish to be alone, Lady Margaery."

Dany's shoulders dropped when she heard the door close and the tears that she had been holding back came cascading down her cheeks. Everything was wrong. This was not how she was supposed to return to King's Landing. Her brother was out there somewhere, whether dead or alive, she did not know. How he would hate her to know she would soon be wedded to his enemy.

Wiping her tears, she turned away from the sights of the city and made her way back into her chamber. She yelped in fear when she saw the bothersome wolf standing under the archway. Dany growled in anger as she pushed past him, her fear of him now having dissipated. She was about to call for a guard to remove the creature when she heard a familiar screech. Her eyes darted to a door at the other end of her chamber, and hope sprung in her chest. Running across the floor, she flung open the door to a little room set up as her bedchamber. At the edge of a decadent bed, set upon a great trunk, were her little dragons, still housed in their bird cages. They chirped and squealed fervently when they saw her, and she rushed over to them, freeing them from their confinement. They scampered about her person, and their nuzzles and gentle touches made her feel lighter.

Her mood darkened when she sensed the wolf's presence in the doorway again, and she gave him a glare over her shoulder. When they noticed him too, her little sons puffed up their chests and bellowed out tiny warnings. She laughed in delight and then she grinned at the wolf. "You see Ghost, unlike your master, I am a true dragon."

Dany didn't know how much time had passed when her mother came through her chamber door. She could see her eyes were also stained with tears and she rushed forward into the shelter of her arms.

Rhaella hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "Oh my darling. Are you alright?

"Yes, muña," Dany cried. "Viserys was right. He's a monster. How can I marry him, muña?"

Rhaella wiped the tears, old and new, from Dany's face. "Oh my child. Things are not as dire as they may seem."

"What do you mean?"

Rhaella's eyes shone with unshed tears. "The boy could be many things, but he's no pretender. He has so much of Rhaegar in him, for a moment I thought I had stepped into a dream."

Dany half wondered if she were dreaming as she searched her mother's eyes. "It's been so many years. How can you be sure?"

Rhaella gave her a sad smile. "A mother knows. Truthfully, Daenerys, I wondered about the validity of his claim since we'd heard of him. There were rumors about Rhaegar and the wolf girl, but I knew if I had even mentioned it, Viserys would have flown into a rage."

"I do not understand."

Rhaella kissed her forehead and pulled her close against her chest. "The only thing I know for certain is that he is your brother's son. What kind of man he is, I do not know, but he cannot hurt you, my child. He will know that if he does, the dragons will never be his."

On the morning of the second day, Lady Sansa had returned with a deep blush coloring her high cheekbones, relaying the message from her brother, "He bid me tell you that Ghost does as he pleases and is no one's to command."

What an arrogant king he must be, Dany thought bitterly. Perhaps if her dragons were to plague him when they were older, she could respond in kind. Ghost barely left her side, from the morning and all through the night; he sat in her chambers, sometimes sleeping, sometimes watching, but always there for the span of three days. He would leave for short bits of time in the morning and throughout the day, usually when she was dressing or when Lady Sansa and Margaery were present. He would always return, however, sitting outside her door, waiting for it to open so he could barge back in uninvited.

"I think the king uses his wolf to keep an eye on you," Margaery had told her with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"That's ridiculous," Sansa had retorted, but Dany found her distaste for the wolf growing steadily.

Perhaps it was a small price to pay, she mused. At least she hadn't had to see the king again since her arrival. Her time in King's Landing had been pleasant enough so far. Her mother had been permitted her own chambers were connected to Dany's and they spent much of the day together accompanied by Lady Sansa and Lady Margaery.

Dany was rather certain they were spies, but she found their presence pleasant enough. She had taken to Margaery more, finding Sansa naive, but she judged them both to be kind. Spending her times reading books Lady Margaery brought to her and watching the city from her balcony, the days melted together.

On the morning of the fourth day, Dany was seated with Margarey and Sansa at a table in her apartments as they were breaking their fast.

Margaery's mouth had twisted up in a smirk. "You're to have dinner with the king tonight, Princess."

Dany blinked. "Dinner with the king?"

"Yes," Margaery answered. "You are to be married. It would do you good to know him better."

"Will my mother be accompanying me?" Dany asked as she squirmed in her seat.

Lady Sansa sat perfectly poised, and smiled sweetly. "There's nothing to fear, Your Grace, Jon is very honorable. He'd never do anything untoward."

"Why do you call him Jon?" Dany asked.

"We all called him Jon when we were growing up. When aunt Lyanna first brought him north, when his identity was a secret."

"This has been a terrible ordeal for you," Margaery told her, taking her hand. "I'm sure you've heard terrible rumors about His Grace … Many things were said during the war… about both sides."

"Absolutely vicious lies!" Sansa added, a line appearing between her brows, "Anyone who knows my father and brothers would know they take no pleasure in killing. I don't understand how anyone could fault Jon for what he did to Amory Lorch!"

"Amory Lorch?" Dany asked.

"Never mind that right now." Margaery continued. "You are about to become a queen. The Queen. No matter your fears or misgivings, you will be in a position of great power. Second to only one… and when you bear his children, they too will sit on the throne. Even a moment of despair can be nurtured to one day grow in your favor." Lady Margaery stood. "I'll help you dress. His Grace tasked us with having more gowns made for you."

Dany followed the girl reluctantly into her bed chamber where a new trunk had been placed on her bed. She felt a pit in her stomach as she opened it and was met with a sea of scarlet fabrics.

"They're all red." Dany remarked flatly.

Margarey managed to keep the smile on her face. "Yes. Well, that was the one stipulation, to use the colors of your house, but there are many different shades and designs." She held up a beautiful gown of flowing red silk. " Look at the cut of this one!"

Dany sighed and closed the trunk before strolling across the room to one of her own chests brought from Dragonstone. She took out one of her favorite violet gowns and held it up for her ladies to see.

"It's lovely," Sansa declared.

Margaery broke her smile momentarily to give Sansa a pointed look and Dany surmised the king would not be pleased.

She felt every muscle in her body seize up with tension as she walked through the door and into Jaehaerys Targaryen's private solar. He rose from his seat to acknowledge her and she noted his garments black again. Part of her hoped her refusal to wear one of the gowns he gifted her would aggravate him but his cool grey eyes gave nothing away. His hair was down, framing his stoic face quite pleasantly, and revealing more of his youth. Ghost traipsed past her to lay at his master's feet.

"Princess," he greeted her.

Pushing aside her resentment, she offered him a curtsey, and he invited her to sit, and they were served bowls of creamy chestnut soup with smoked duck breast and lentils. Trays of strawberry tarts with sweet grass and white cheese and olives were also set before them as well as cups of sweet plum wine. They ate quietly, the silence between them hanging heavy in the air, and she had neither the knowledge nor desire to break it.

The pretender spoke first. "Are your chambers to your liking?"

"They are quite lovely," she admitted, setting down her spoon. "Your wolf, however, is a nuisance."

The king lifted an eyebrow. "Is he?"

She offered him a false smile. "He haunts my steps, from sunup to sundown."

Jon shrugged, and took a sip from his chalice. "Ghost just wants to make sure you are safe in your new home."

Dany scoffed and crossed her arms. "He's your watchdog, guarding me day and night. You are distrustful of me even though it was you who took me from my home!"

The king leaned forward, and she saw his jaw become a hard line. "If I didn't trust you," he growled, "you'd know it."

Dany put her hands in her lap and sat up straight. "If you hurt me or my mother, my dragons will never bond with you."

He sighed and set his cup aside. "Is that what you think?" His dark eyes softened. "Please forgive me. This isn't easy for me either." Dany fought the urge to roll her eyes as he went on. "I've no intention of hurting you or my own grandmother. I brought you here to make you a queen because it is the best thing for the realm and our family. I've spent the last several years fighting battles and leading armies… the art of courtship is lost on me."

Her heart betrayed her with a gentle lift at his words, and she realized she longed for them to be true. She wanted to be safe, and to stop running, but an image of her brother formed in her mind, his face twisted in anger. He's the bastard of the usurper's dog, not some lost prince!

"Courtship and war. Some might say the two are mutually exclusive," she quipped, taking a sip of wine.

"So I'm learning," he conceded. She was about to retort when he reached across the table to take her hand. She gaped at him while her heart beat wildly. "I know this must be incredibly difficult for you," he told her, "but I wish to make your transition as painless as possible. Is there anything you would ask of me?"

For a moment she could only focus on the way his roughened hand held hers so gently but she tugged it away and set it in her lap. His expression dulled as he sat back.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, Your Grace. A handmaiden of mine from Dragonstone. I wished for her to accompany me here, but I was not allowed to bring any members of my household. She has meant a great deal to me. I trust her. It would be a great comfort to me to have her here."

"Simple enough. Give her name to my sister and I will see it done."

Her shoulders relaxed. "Thank you, Your Grace." If she could see Missandei again, things might be easier.

"Is there anything else I could do?"

There was a question that plagued her every night, but she knew it would be unwise to ask. "My brother," she started, searching his eyes,"do you know if he's alive?"

His expression hardened and he glowered at her. "I know nothing of your traitor brother's whereabouts."

His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he got up from the table and stalked out of the room, his wolf following after him. For the first time since she had arrived she was left alone. She hung her head in her hands. I cannot do this, she thought, I cannot marry him.

A pair of kingsguard escorted her back to her room as she continually cast glances over her shoulder to see if the wolf had returned. She was almost disappointed when she reached her door and he had not reappeared. A silly thing to miss such a bothersome beast.

Sansa gave her a hopeful smile when she entered and Margaery took her arm. 'How did you find the king? He is very handsome, is he not?"

Dany wrenched her arm away. "Yes, my captor is quite comely." She had long stopped caring if her ladies in waiting reported her words to the king.

Margarey's expression gave nothing away. "In a sense, all men who wed high born ladies are captors, but not all ladies get to marry men who look like His Grace."

Sansa studied the floor. She was still a girl who dreamt of handsome princes and knights, the way Dany used to. The day would come when she would learn life wasn't a fairytale and Dany pitied her.

"He's been kind to you, has he not?," Margarey asked.

Dany felt her heart sink. "I've barely met him." She sat in a chair before the hearth and watched the flickering flames.

Margaery brought her a goblet of watered wine. "I believe your union will bring long lasting peace to the realm." Dany inspected the contents of her cup as Margaery continued. "He plans to come by shortly to meet your dragons."

At first, her words hit Dany like cold water, but then a slow smile spread across her lips. "Yes, he should meet them." Real dragons could never be fooled by a pretender.

Dany was almost giddy waiting for the king to arrive. She was looking forward to seeing the smug look wiped from his face when her dragons avoided him entirely. Or better yet, maybe Stormfyre would bellow at him the way he had the guards when they were boarded onto the ship. When he finally arrived with Ghost at his side, she greeted him cheerily, while Sansa and Margaery bowed before him. Dany almost patted his wolf on the head, but came to her senses just in time.

Jon wore his usual dour expression. "Princess, please forgive me… for how I left at dinner."

She could see there was more he wanted to say but she spoke up quickly. "Do not let it trouble you, Your Grace. I understand." She motioned for him to follow her.

As they entered her bedchamber, they found her dragons sleeping soundly in their cages.

"Hello, my darlings," she cooed to them, and they perked up instantly.

Dany watched awe transform Jon's face as he beheld the ancient little beings, gone from the world for so long.

"The black is named Stormfyre," she told him, her chest swelling with pride. "And the red is Rhaegal, named after your father."

Carefully she opened their cages and they clambered to her immediately while she giggled. Transfixed by them, Jon stood closer than would be deemed appropriate to examine them and Dany felt warmth rush over her body.

"Be careful, Your Grace," she told him haughtily, "They do breathe fire."

His pupils were blown wide. "Do you think I could touch one?"

Dany hummed. "Since their hatching, they have not taken kindly to anyone but me and my mother. I don't think it would be wise to-"

Before she could complete her sentence, Jon gave Rhaegal a little pet and her tiny little son nuzzled his maw against his hand. Jon's face broke into a wide grin, and she felt a flutter in her belly to see how much more handsome he was when he smiled. Her mouth fell open when Rhaegal leaped onto his arm and climbed up his shoulder.

Jon laughed in surprise, and rewarded the little dragon with more affection. He smirked at Dany. "It seems you were mistaken."

Dany felt her cheeks grow hot, but she found herself smiling. Her brother was wrong. Jon was a Targaryen. There could be no denying it now.

Jon interrupted her thoughts. "Do they know any commands?"

She turned up her nose. "Fire...in Valyrian."

"I see," he replied, before turning back to the little dragon and stating, "Dracarys."

Rhaegal did not respond, but Dany put her hand over her heart.

Jon chuckled at her surprise. "Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa, byka dārilaros, sepār hae issa aōhon yn, ziry vestragon ziry daoriot gīmigon." (Valyrian is my mother tongue, little Princess, just as it is yours, but it seems he does not understand)

Dany couldn't help the smile that was pulling at her lips. She found Stormfyre's molten eyes and commanded, "Dracarys."

Jon jumped as both dragons shot little bolts of fire into the air right from where they sat perched on their shoulders. Dany laughed from deep in her belly for the first time in she didn't know how long.

Jon shook his head but she could see mirth in his eyes. "You are a dangerous little thing, aren't you?"

Dany wiped her eyes as she caught her breath. "It would appear you still have much to learn, Your Grace."