THE DRAGON QUEEN

Daenerys sat in her solar, absently tracing patterns of the sunshine on the wood of her desk. She was alone—well, as alone as she could be—Ser Barristan stood at the door, ever watchful. Still, it was a rare thing for the young Queen to be free of petitioners, laws to sign, or other duties. She was grateful for it; it allowed her time to think.

After years of fighting, she finally had all she had ever dreamed of and more; her rightful title as Queen of Westeros, the love of (most of) her subjects, and perhaps most wonderful of all, a family. Yes, Daenerys was no longer the last Targaryen; she had Aegon, the Mummer's Dragon who wasn't so fake after all, and Jon, the product of the tryst that had cost her family the throne. She loved both of them, though Aegon was arrogant in his own righteous and well-intentioned way and Jon was far too stoic, too Stark-like and too wound up in his own pain for her taste. She knew Aegon disapproved of her ruling on her own, and Jon did not want to be in King's Landing at all, but yet they stood united. Both men knew that they were three parts of whole, as necessary to the survival of the others as water or air. They were family, the true Royal Family of Westeros. They were the Three Targaryens. Three heads of the dragon.

Like in the Houses of the Undying…Dany shook her head; trying to rid herself of the horrible images she had seen in that place. The number three seemed to haunt her every step…

Ser Barristan clearing his throat shook her from her trance, and brought her attention back to the matter she had been debating before.

Marriage.

If she chose to follow Targaryen tradition, her nephews were the most logical choices. That was their way; the way it had always been done.

Ser Barristan and Tyrion, however, had cautioned her against it.

"After the public reveal of my brother and sister's true…relationship," Tyrion had said, "I doubt the populous would be keen on another incestuous relationship, Targaryen or no."

"I agree, Your Grace." Ser Barristan murmured in his gentle voice, "And if I were you, I would not risk continuing the joining of Targaryen blood. Your father's madness has not yet been forgotten; to marry one of your nephews is to ask for rebellion. You are their Queen and they love you, but you are still a stranger to many…Prince Aegon is no more well known, and many of the common people still know Prince Jon as Lord Stark's bastard. If you must marry, you must marry a Westerosi lord, and strengthen your ties to your people."

Privately, Dany agreed with her must trusted councilors. Besides, neither Jon nor Aegon incited in her lust or love the way Drogo or Daario had.

Aegon, however, had pressed her about it a few times.

"It was the practice of our family, Daenerys, to wed sister to brother; I have no living sisters and you have no living brothers, but we do have each other. It is our duty to rule. Make me your King and you will not be sorry."

She recalled the disappointment on his face—so like her own, so like Viserys'—as she gently told him, no, that that was one Targaryen practice she would not be following.

"Madness is in our blood too deep, nephew. It would do more harm than good to follow our ancestor's paths. I shall forge my own path. I urge you to do the same."

She had not felt the need to mention that she could not have children besides here dragons, and the one she had borne and lost, so long ago.

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," Mirri Maz Durr had said, "When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before."

Her sun-and-stars. It still pained her to think of him, and their son.

Rhaego.

She often tried to imagine what he would be like. He would be nearly…six? Seven? He would be beautiful, of this she is sure, and strong, like his father. The dragon-scaled creature she birthed was made that way because of the medicine woman's cruel influence and her own desperation. No, her true son, the Stallion-Who-Mounts-The-World would have been perfect. Perhaps Dothraki in every way, except the eyes…he would have her eyes, violet and so utterly Targaryen that there could be no doubt of his parentage…

"Khalessi, the half-man has returned."

Dany jumped in surprise and looked up into Irri's worried face. "Is khalessi ill? It is not good to receive visitors when one is ill; it is known."

"It is known." Echoed Jhiqui.

She managed a half-smile for them. "No, I am not ill. I was merely thinking. Has Tyrion brought word from his travels?"

"We did not see him, khalessi. Knight-of-Flowers says he has returned, and bid us to find you."

Ever since her two handmaidens had learned Ser Loras' former moniker, they had called him nothing else. She hid a smirk before rising.

"Very well. I'll receive him in the Great Hall. Ser Barristan, if you'll escort me."

"With pride, Your Grace." The old knight said, a fond smile on his face. "As always."

She picked up her crown from its silk pillow on the desk; this one was far lighter than the one she'd worn in Mereen, made of delicate silver imbued with rubies and onyx, carefully fired into the shape of a dragon that wrapped around her head. She then looped her arm through his, and they exited her solar and walked towards the Great Hall.

"Irri, Jhiqui," Daenerys said, "please find Prince Aegon and Prince Jon, and tell them that Tyrion has returned. I should like for us all to hear what he has to say."

"Yes khalessi." The two said in unison, before hurrying off in their respective directions.

Ser Barristan waited until they had disappeared from view before speaking. "You know they shall not like this plan."

"I know I need not remind you I was forced to wed someone I did not know merely because my brother would do anything to hasten his way to Westeros. I was a bargaining chip, nothing more, and I would never force that life on anyone, especially my nephews. But their marriages will be useful to both our family and the kingdoms, and so they must occur. They will not be forced to marry old matrons or vicious harpies. Only the most eligible and beautiful maidens will be considered. They will each have time to get to know said ladies and then make their choice." She said firmly.

"Both?" The knight's voice was surprised. "Not only Aegon?"

Dany had thought long about this; she knew that she could not have children, and if she and Aegon were to marry (and if Jon were to continue on his isolated and celibate path), their line, that they had fought so hard to restore, would end.

"Aegon cannot marry me, but he must wed. I cannot force him to marry and spare Jon; that will lead to tales of favoritism and perhaps rumors of an improper relationship between us. No. If one marries, they both must."

"Have you spoken to either of them about this?" Ser Barristan reasoned, "I do not think surprise will help convince them."

"They are both intelligent, Ser. They will know this is coming. Aegon, I think, will welcome it, but Jon…he spends more time in the company of Ghost than he does any woman."

Ser Barristan fell silent. She knew his silences and could read the message in them; he did not approve.

I am Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and may do as I please. They both agreed that I was best suited to it; they may be princes, but they are still my subjects. They cannot protest. It would be treason, a betrayal. And I so do hate traitors…

And I suppose Ser Jorah does not count….a voice whispered in the back of her mind, sounding eerily like Quaithe's. Truth be told, she missed her bear even now, but it would be too hard to have him near her. She still could not trust him, though she had kept her promise and he was now home, ruling on Bear Island amongst his surviving nieces.

They reached the Great Hall, and Dany abandoned thoughts of her old friend, and paused as the court welcomed her.

"Announcing Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Khalessi of the Green Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, the Mother of Dragons, and Princess of Dragonstone."The court crier yelled, his voice echoing back against the high arches.

I really must speak to him about shortening my title. Any longer and a war could be started whilst he is still welcoming me to court!

She smiled and nodded at the courtiers, who offered her genuine (or at least appearing so) smiles in return. She climbed the massive steps leading to the Iron Throne. Many a time Irri had offered to place a cushion on the throne's cold, hard seat, but Dany had refused.

None of the kings who ever sat on this throne had a cushion. I shall not be the first just because I am a woman.

Ser Barristan was taking his customary place at the base of the steps when Aegon came loping into the Hall.

"Prince Aegon Targaryen, the Sixth of His Name, Lord of Dragonstone."

Aegon acknowledged the many courtiers with charming smiles as he passed them, but when he was near enough for Dany to hear him, his grin grew wicked and he called up to her:

"You summoned me, Aunt?"

He had taken to calling her that after she had rejected him for the third time; it seemed Aegon was not accustomed to not getting something he wanted, and this was his mild form of retaliation.

Dany frowned.

"In this Hall you shall refer to me as 'Your Grace' or 'Queen' and nothing else, Aegon."

Aegon gave an eye roll, but nodded all the same. "Yes, yes, of course Your Grace." She gave him a flinty look for his tone, and, looking chastised, he spoke in a less sarcastic voice. "Why have I been called here?"

She opened her mouth to respond when the crier cut across her, announcing:

"Prince Jon Targaryen, the First of His Name, Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks and the City Watch."

Daenerys watched as her younger nephew walked down the Hall.

Two brothers could not be more different.

Whereas Aegon sauntered into a Hall and smiled genially at everyone, Jon entered the Hall and spoke only to a few people as he made his way towards the Throne.

Aegon was all Targaryen; white-blonde hair, violet eyes, and the fiery temperament of his sigil to match.

Jon was all Stark; dark of hair, grey eyes, and had the icy patience of a hunting direwolf.

Speaking of direwolves…

Ghost was at Jon's side, as he was at all times. The huge white direwolf still managed to frighten many a serving girl, but Dany had grown used to his presence.

"Daenerys." Jon said in greeting, giving a bow in her direction. She smiled back at him, ignoring Aegon's sullen look.

"You don't force him to call you Queen…"The elder brother muttered.

She sighed. For all of Aegon's wonderful traits, he really could be childish at times. She chose to ignore his mumbling, and motioned them forward. They stood side-by-side, facing her.

The Silver Prince and the Black Prince.

The names whispered amongst the common people were aptly given, and the girl that was tucked away inside of her delighted in the contrast between them. They made a lovely pair before her, one all silvery mornings and soft sunshine, the other deepest night and starlight. There was no denying that they were two of the most handsome men in the realm, subject to awe and adoration of many women (and possibly even a few men).

And yet I feel nothing beyond sisterly affection for them. What a pity.

Once she was sure she had their attention, she spoke.

"Ser Loras has informed me that Tyrion has returned from his journey. I thought it best we receive him together."

"Ah, so the wayward Imp returns! He makes rather fast time for one so small." Aegon chortled.

Jon bristled. He had a fondness for Tyrion, and disliked when his brother so flippantly discussed him, even though Aegon had a great affection for Tyrion as well.

"He has done much for us, Aegon. You should not speak of him so."

Aegon rolled his eyes skyward. "Do they not teach humor in the North? You know as well as I how much we all value Tyrion. He himself jests about his size; why shouldn't I?"

"Because it is disrespectful."

"You and your honor. Are we sure you're not all Stark?" Jon did not rise to the bait and Aegon relented. "I am sorry, brother. I shan't jest about Tyrion any longer, if it displeases you."

"Thank you." Jon's mouth moved into what was almost a grin. "Unless you mean to speak about how it is his heritage we should be questioning."

Aegon looked dumb-struck. "What do you mean? The littlest Lannister is not a Lannister?"

"How could he be? He doesn't shit gold."

Aegon roared with laughter while Jon's smirk bloomed into a full grin. Dany felt her own lips twitching up into a smile; it was rare for Jon to make a joke, but when he did, it was well worth it. She hated to interrupt their mirth with unhappy news, but she knew she must tell them now or she never would.

"As amusing as it is questioning where all the gold in Casterly Rock came from is," she paused as they refocused on her, "I'm afraid that's not what I called you here to talk about."

The laughter vanished from their faces and they both regarded her with seriousness.

"Is something amiss?" Aegon asked. "Trouble in one of the Kingdoms perhaps?"

"It can't be." Jon interjected. "I received a raven from Winterfell just yesterday; Bran—Lord Stark has gathered the Northern lords, and is sure they will agree to his decision to bring the North officially back into the Seven Kingdoms. The rest of the realm is quiet, merely trying to survive the winter."

"The kingdoms are peaceful. I called you here for a more…personal matter."

Both of their brows knit in confusion, and Dany had to stifle a laugh at how utterly similar they looked in that moment. Jon's face suddenly twisted in pain.

"Have you found my…cousins?"

Dany's stomach gave a sudden sorrowful swoop. The girls that Jon Snow had been raised to love and protect as sisters, Sansa and Arya Stark, were still nowhere to be found, even after years of peace. Many agreed that they were likely long dead, as Arya had not been seen since Ned Stark's death and Sansa since the demise of the horrible (and short-reigned) King Joffery I, but Jon, Bran, and Rickon still held hope for their return.

"No, Jon. I'm sorry."

He gave a sharp nod. Aegon rested his hand on his brother's back briefly before looking back to Daenerys.

"So what is it?"

Dany shifted on the uncomfortable throne, wondering just how to put such delicate news.

So, Aegon, Jon, tell me, what do you think of Margarey Tyrell? One of you may be married to her soon…don't mind the fact that two of her last three husbands have wound up dead within a year of marrying her…

When I was fourteen I was so desperate to keep my sun-and-stars, who, by the way, was a Dothraki horse lord who would have shit on your courtly manners and notions of honor, that I made a bargain with a witch who ended up murdering my unborn son and cursing my beloved to a half-life. Did I mention she put a curse on me too, and I'm unable to have any children? So, since I cannot, you two must marry in my stead and become little more than breeding stallions?

She cleared her throat as the two brothers exchanged confused looks. Whatever gods there were—the Seven, the Old Gods, the Red God, the God of Many Faces, the Great Stallion—must have been smiling on her, for Dany was spared answering by the arrival of the Hand of the Queen.

"Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, and Shield of Lannisport."

All three Targaryens turned to smile at the approaching figure.

The years had not been kind to Tyrion Lannister; on top of his already dwarfed figure, stunted legs, misshapen head, and mismatched eyes, the War of the Five Kings had robbed him of his nose, his limp had grown more pronounced as the temperature dropped, and his beard grew in with both black and blonde hair. He looked far older than his mere 31 years.

However, none of this detracted from the affection that the royal family held for him. All three trusted him above all others (at least in the political spectrum of King's Landing).

"You're looking as fair as ever, Your Grace. Is it possible for you to have gotten more beautiful while I was away?" Tyrion said, slowly hobbling up the stairs leading to the Iron Throne.

Dany laughed. "Ah, how I've missed your flattery, little lion. No one else can make charm sound as believable as you."

Tyrion smiled at their banter. By now he had reached the top of the stairs and stood beside Jon and Aegon in front of the Queen. He gave both the princes a bow.

"My Princes."

"My Lord of Lannister." Said Aegon, a smirk on his face.

"Tyrion." Jon said, returning the bow with a dip of his own.

"I trust your mission went well?" Dany asked.

Tyrion nodded, flicking his eyes at the two men beside him. "Have you told them yet?"

"Told us what?" Aegon asked.

Dany shook her head and Tyrion could not help but laugh. She shot him an icy glare and gradually he stopped laughing.

"Well then. In that case, might I suggest moving this discussion to a less public place? We wouldn't want raised voices to alarm the common people, Your Grace."

"Raised voices?" Aegon queried, his eyebrow arching. "Why would we raise our voices if the news is not bad?"

"Daenerys never said it wasn't bad news." Jon said quietly. "Only that it was not bad news about the kingdoms or my cousins."

Dany noted once again that her younger nephew was far too observant for his own good.

"Tyrion is right. We'll go to my rooms."

She rose and waited as the Hall acknowledged her before sweeping down the stairs. Ser Barristan offered her his arm without a word, and once she was sure the three men were behind her, she exited the Hall. Tyrion scurried to catch up with her.

"I was under the impression you were going to tell them the intent of my mission while I was away." He murmured in a low voice.

"Why? To give them more time to become angry about being forced to marry women they do not know?" Daenerys whispered. Tyrion shook his head, a smirk tugging on his lips.

"And the element of surprise will do…what?"

His comment echoed the conversation she and Ser Barristan had shared earlier, and the fact that the two men, who were known not to particularly like each other, were sharing the same thought irritated the Queen.

"I did not ask for your help for you to question me, Tyrion." She hissed. "It is not as if I want to make them do this. In a just world, they would fall in love and marry women of their choosing, I would have my sun-and-stars and our son safely with me, and winter would only last a season, not a life time. But it is not a just world, my dear lion. Maidens die in the cold just as surely as men, and princesses wither waiting for knights to rescue them. Life is not a song."

Tyrion's face took on a faraway look. "There once was a girl that believed the very opposite."

Daenerys, unsettled by Tyrion's sudden somber mood, put her free hand gently on his shoulder.

"And what happened to this girl?" She asked softly.

His eyes met hers. "She learned."

Ghost slid up next to Tyrion's left side and gently nudged the dwarf with his white head. His appearance reminded Dany that they were not walking unaccompanied. She looked over her shoulder at her nephews, who appeared to be in deep conversation.

Well, deep conversation meaning that Aegon was speaking rapidly in Jon's ear while he nodded from time to time. Despite the somber situation, she felt a smile pulling at her lips at Jon's exasperated expression as Aegon continued to talk.

Finally the contingent reached Daenerys' rooms. They filed in without speaking. Ser Barristan remained stationed at the door, while Tyrion and Dany sat on a bench by the window, and the two princes seated themselves in their own respective chairs. Ghost, seeming to sense Dany's discomfort, laid at her feet, giving her leg a gentle nuzzle.

His warmth made her realize how long it had been since she'd been to see her dragons, and she made a mental note to do so at the earliest convenience.

Tyrion inclined his head towards her, waiting for her to begin.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "The purpose of Tyrion's trip was to find eligible maidens of noble birth and marriageable age."

There was a deafening silence before Aegon spoke.

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I thought that Tyrion was already married…"

Tyrion covered a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "Yes, you're quite right my Prince. This dashing lord is still married to a woman that he, let alone anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, has not seen in years…but that is beside the point."

"Which is?" Jon asked in a dangerous sounding monotone.

"It is not I that said eligible maidens are intended for." Tyrion said.

Another silence.

Jon spoke first. "No. Absolutely not."

"Jon…" Daenerys said. He turned his face away, staring into the fire.

"I do not want to do this. To either of you." She said, looking back and forth between the two. "But the Targaryen line must continue. And I…there is no point for me to marry. I shall never birth a living child."

All three men looked wore expressions of extreme confusion. She sighed and closed her eyes, grateful for Ghost's comforting presence at her feet.

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before." Oh, she was so tired of those words, tired of saying them, tired of them haunting her every step, tired of them reminding her of what she had lost, reminding her of what she would never have again. "These are the words spoken to me by a witch, who murdered my unborn child in exchange for my husband's life." Her lips twitched in a sad semblance of a smile. "She did not guarantee it would be what we consider life. True, he breathed, but he, my Drogo, my sun-and-stars, my horse-lord, my warrior, was not there. She cursed him to life-which-is-not-life, and me to a life without children."

Tyrion's hand covered her own and she offered him a tight smile. "So you understand now that I do this not out of spite or desire to control, but out of necessity. If you two do not marry, then our fight to regain this throne for our family will have been for naught."

Aegon remained silent for a few more seconds, sighed and then said, "Who are these eligible maidens then?"

Daenerys' attention snapped back to the elder of the two brothers. He looked back at her, his violet eyes (so like her own) completely devoid of anger or defiance. In them she only found genuine curiosity.

Perhaps it was not me as a wife he was so excited about after all, she thought, but rather the idea of being married at all.

She turned to Tyrion, who cleared his throat. "Well, there is the ever lovely Margarey Tyrell, twice widowed and once divorced. She still holds to her claim of remaining a maiden; which, when one thinks about it, could indeed be true, seeing as Renly Baratheon preferred his roses with…thorns, Joffrey was murdered before the bedding, and Tommen was scarcely more than a child at the time of their wedding. Arianne Martell, though older than both of you, is still unmarried…though she may be an unwise choice for Aegon, as they are cousins and we are trying to avoid incestuous leanings. There are rumors of a bastard daughter of Littlefinger ruling in the Vale since his untimely demise…Alayne Stone, I believe."

"Three women in the entire realm to choose from? That hardly seems fair." Aegon said.

Privately, Dany agreed with him.

Tyrion sighed. "The Great Houses are largely decimated after the war. Stark, Baratheon, Arryn, Greyjoy, and yes, even House Lannister, are all decidedly lacking in available maidens."

"Must they be from the Great Houses?" Aegon asked.

"Traditionally, yes." Tyrion answered. "Every marriage of an heir of the Iron Throne has occurred to a woman of high birth."

"Are not the ladies of the Noble Houses also of high birth?" Aegon countered. "The only difference between Noble and Great Houses is that the Great ones help govern one of the Seven Kingdoms. The daughters of both of these kinds of houses must be raised under the same rules, taught the same etiquette. Would it be such a stretch to include them as well?"

Tyrion stroked his beard. "I suppose not. And considering the alternatives…Your Grace, do you agree that including the Noble Houses would be acceptable?"

Dany's eyes flickered to Jon, who still sat unmoving and unresponsive, and then back to Aegon, who looked back, intrigued. "Yes. My only concern is that there are so many of them…"

"So allow the Great Houses to choose a few from each kingdom." Aegon suggested. "The kingdoms with greater numbers of Noble houses can choose a limit of perhaps ten, the smaller kingdoms a limit of five, as befits the particular amount of Noble houses."

Aegon's proposals seemed to have roused Jon's attention. "And how would we choose from said women?" He asked, his voice as angry as Daenerys had ever heard it. "Line them up from fairest to plainest? Find out which comes from the family with the highest number of children, or how much gold their father has? Decide by how much an alliance with the kingdom they're from benefits us?"

"Jon—" Tyrion started, but Dany held up a hand. Jon turned his glare on her and she stared unflinchingly back.

"While those reasons no doubt have merit," she said, "that is not how I would have you choose."

"So we are to have some say then? Not just shuffled off to the highest bidder?" Aegon teased, obviously trying to lessen the tension. Jon did not appear amused.

"Of course you'll make your own choice." Daenerys said, giving both of them a steady look. "And in the most ideal situation, I would have you choose for love."

Jon scoffed and even Aegon looked doubtful.

She sighed, seeing that she was not going to convince them that love could be found even in arranged marriages, in marriages not originally born from passion or attraction.

They have not had a sun-and-stars. They have not had to make admiration into adoration or lust into love. They do not know what I know.

"If not for love, then for companionship. For trust. For comfort. If the idea of loving any of these women is so impossible to you, pick the one that you can care for as a friend. Passion fades, lust subsides." Tyrion interjected. "Pick the woman you will still want to speak to in thirty years. If you can find both love and friendship, then you are one of the luckier people in this world."

All three royals looked at him in surprise. Tyrion was well known for bedding anything willing with tits and had not had a consistent lover since the traitorous Shae. Aware of the curious looks he was receiving, he smirked.

"I was young too, once. And then I was less interested in claiming what was under a woman's skirts and more interested in claiming what lay beneath her breast. Believe me when I say any kind of woman can warm your bed, but only a few can warm your heart."

There was another silence with each person—Prince, Queen, Hand, and Prince again—lost in their thoughts. Finally Aegon spoke.

"So when will this begin?"

"As soon as the ladies can be gathered and travel to King's Landing." Tyrion said.

"So it might be quite some time, if the ladies move as slowly as the women of King's Landing." Aegon quipped. Tyrion laughed and Dany could see Ser Barristan's struggle to hide a grin.

Jon muttered something under his breath, causing Daenerys to sigh.

"Cheer up, brother." Aegon said, thumping Jon on the back. "Perhaps you'll find the woman that might finally melt that icy exterior of yours."

Jon said nothing.

Stubborn as a Stark and as unyielding as a Targaryen. Brother Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark must be laughing where ever they are right now. Dany thought.

"Aegon, Tyrion, why don't you two discuss this elsewhere?" She suggested, voice smooth as silk.

Both men got the hint and quickly exited the room. Dany took Aegon's recently vacated chair to Jon's right.

"Jon." She said. He ignored her. "Look at me."

Grey eyes met violet.

"You have done everything I have ever asked of you without complaint, without question. You were the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch; duty commanded your every action and still often does. You have not spoken of any women, I have not heard any rumors of you bedding any, and rarely see you even near one. So why do you fight this so hard? If there is someone who has captured your heart, speak now! If there is someone that you love, I would see you with them. I would see you happy. I would see you smile as you did when the White Walkers were vanquished, as you did when Bran told you your true heritage."

Jon looked away from her again. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come. I said those words, Daenerys. I said them, and I broke them."

"You cannot hold yourself to that oath now." She said gently, laying a hand on his arm. "You are no longer a man of the Night's Watch."

"I broke them when I still was." He muttered. "I loved a girl with hair kissed by fire, forsook all thoughts of my brothers, all notions of honor my father taught me, all loyalty for anything I had known before, for her. Ygritte."

A wildling. Unconventional, but an alliance with the wildlings could be useful, especially should any Wights make a resurgence…

"So where is this wildling woman who can make you forget your famous honor?"

As soon as she said it, she realized she had said the wrong thing. That this was not joking matter, no silly girl that had he had been infatuated over for a brief time. His eyes shot back to hers, and in them she saw the same pain that she felt whenever she heard the jingling of bells, saw a mother holding her son, or a dark-haired man riding a horse.

"Oh. Oh, Jon. Forgive me, I did not—"

"You couldn't have known." He said.

"And you don't want to marry…because of her memory?"

Jon was silent for a moment.

"I don't want to marry because it would be another choice I would be making because I have to, not because I want to. But I cannot lie and say the thought of her has nothing to do with my resistance, either." She watched his hand clench and unclench as it often did when he was anxious or deep in thought. "I was so used to snow and ice, and she…she was like fire. She warmed and offered protection. She was passionate and fierce and bright and challenging. I loved her for it, loved that she was so different from the proper women I'd known all my life. But fire doesn't only do good, does it? It burns just as much as it warms, is as unforgiving as it is welcoming. She owned me, branded me as hers and hers alone. She burned me. And I'm not sure if I'll ever not be hers."

Her hand slipped into his and he managed a tight smile.

After a pause, Dany spoke.

"Perhaps someone will surprise you."

Jon quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"After Drogo died, I did not think I could ever love or want another man again. I was wrong. I was just as much a fool for the second love as I was for the first. Love is not something that can be planned or prevented. It sneaks up on you. And perhaps one of these ladies will as well."

Jon gave a small laugh. "If I feel half of what I felt for Ygritte for one of these women, I'll marry her on the spot, alliances, duty, and honor be damned."

Daenerys smiled softly. "I would not stop you."

oOo

By the next week, from the Storm Lands to the Crown Lands, from the Reach to the Riverlands, from Dorne and from the Westerlands, to the North and the Vale and the Iron Islands, word of the princes seeking betrothals had sent all of Westeros into a tizzy.

It was something to think about other than the freezing temperatures and the still healing fissures left by the war, and the people, common and noble, could think of nothing else.

For Aegon, many wanted a bride as dark as he was fair, with his same likeable charm and easy grace that so endeared him to the public. He was their Silver Prince, their white knight, who had rode into Westeros, reclaimed his family's ancestral home and had befriended and charmed them in the process. It seemed only fair that his bride be like him, something out of a song; mayhaps the recently discovered natural daughter of Petyr Baelish, who was rumored to be as beautiful as she was powerful, or maybe some mysterious noblewoman that would outshine the other, more renowned beauties and win his hand with love.

For Jon, most people assumed that he would need a fiery Southron bride, someone to melt his icy exterior and balance out his Northern stoicism; Margarey Tyrell perhaps, with all her sweetly nettled charm, or even the Queen herself, all passion and blazing eyes and a temper to match that of her dragons. However, if they had ever actually asked him his own preference, he would have told them that his desire for fire had died with Ygritte and her flame red hair on the Wall. All he wanted now was someone to soothe the burn she'd left in her wake.

oOo

Author's Note: Okay, so I lied in the last one and said Bran and Meera would be in the next chapter. I flipped it with this one, which was originally the third chapter, so I could give more backstory on what's going on in the rest of Westeros. We'll be back in Winterfell in Chapter 3, I swear.

I love writing Daenerys and Tyrion, but Jon and Aegon were giving me a bit of trouble in this chapter. I apologize thoroughly if they seem out of character, but keep in mind it's been a few years since ADWD or even A Dream of Spring, so they've grown and become princes and experienced even more hard things since then.

I'd like to thank everyone who's followed and favorite this story, it really means a lot. The only thing that could make my day better is reviews! :)