Chapter Text
1.
Daenerys
“Your Grace?”
Daenerys Stormborn’s violet eyes fluttered as she awoke on the captain’s cabin of her ship. She was still in bed, wearing the white shift she had gone to sleep in the previous evening. “It’s morning?”
“Yes, my Queen, the sun rose perhaps an hour ago.” Missandei was opening the curtains covering the windows of the cabin, then opened one of the windows by a crack to get a sliver of sea air circulating in the room. Only a crack was needed, as the temperatures had dropped noticeably since her fleet had sailed north from Dragonstone.
She sat up in bed, doing her best to finger-comb her silver hair out while gathering the sheets around her. “I suppose I need to get ready for the day, then. We’re to make landfall today, are we not?”
Missandei nodded. “J… Lord Snow, he said he expected us to get to White Harbor by around midday. I’ll bring breakfast in to you and we’ll get your hair back in order.”
The two women and confidants shared a look at the mention of the King Of The North. They had been discreet as possible on board, but Missandei, as her closest female adviser and one who looked after her daily needs, had intuited what was happening soon after it started.
“Thank you. Where…?”
“He’s up on deck, I believe.” She broke eye contact with her by starting at the floor. “I’ll bring that food in, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” she replied as her friend departed the room. A few moments later, she heard a knock on the outside of the doorway. “Yes?”
“Your favored advisor wishes for an audience with his Queen,” a smooth and eloquent voice called out.
She raised an eyebrow at the description and made sure the sheets and blankets were arranged around her properly. “Lord Tyrion, come in.”
The Hand of The Queen strolled into the room. Along with his normal wear, he sported a black and red wool cloak to ward off the morning cold, and cradled a steaming mug of hot liquid in both hands. “No wine this morning?” the queen inquired sardonically.
“It’s not the best tea I’ve ever had,” Tyrion said, “but it does keep away the cold. However, I have heard that some in the North who raise grapes make a wine that is supposed to be served warmed. I’ll have to look into that if we stay for long here…”
“You had a message for me, My Lord?”
Tyrion caught himself. “Yes. I was hoping to catch you alone for a moment. It’s been difficult to do that during the past several days… and several nights, in fact.”
Her mood darkened as she realized that he knew about Jon. “And how is that your business, Tyrion?” she said as she narrowed her eyes at him.
“For most men and women, it would not be,” he replied as he came closer to the bed. “But since who you fall in love with could make or break your chances of successfully ruling Westeros, it is absolutely my business as your Hand.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she collected herself. “I see your point.”
He took a sip from his mug as he contemplated the situation. “What are your feelings towards him? Are you in love with him? Is he?” When she could no longer meet his eyes, he sighed. “Oh, my. He’s proposed to you, has he?”
“Not in those words, not yet,” she finally said. “But he said he wants to be with me, now and when we go to his home.”
“I appreciate your efforts to try to keep your… affections hidden from others. You will need to continue it for the time being, especially with these Northerners. We have to be very careful in our relations with them.”
“I’m the rightful ruler of Westeros, and I have two dragons and an army at my back,” she said. “I would think they need to be careful in their relations with me .”
“Hm. Yes, but…” He trailed off, holding up a finger. “You remember one of our first talks after we met, about how you need the consent of the governed to properly rule. I think the example of Dragon’s Bay is useful in this regard.” He turned to look at Daenerys, who held up both her hands, palms upward, in a “go-ahead” gesture.
“To properly secure your rule, you need the support of the nobles and powerful and the support of the common folk. You remember how we finally… persuaded the nobles and slavers to reform their ways and join your cause. Compared to that, the common folk there were easy to bring to your side. You promised them greater freedoms and release from their bondage if they accepted you as Queen.”
“I would offer the North that same freedom, for the tyranny of your sister in King’s Landing,” she replied. “I would do no less than them and care for them as my other subjects.”
“And you would be an improvement upon my sister as a monarch many times over, yes,” he replied, nodding. “But this issue of freedom, that is the crux of our problem in the North.”
“The North doesn’t love freedom like other people?” the Queen said with a laugh.
“They do,” Tyrion said. “The issue is, the North already believe themselves to be free - a free and independent nation. They elected first Jon’s brother Robb, and then Jon, as king of an independent North. They certainly despise Cersei and would be willing to fight her, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they feel the need to subjugate themselves to you to do that. If you come with offers of liberation, they will wonder what you plan to truly do to them, because liberty is what they already have. Both the nobles and the common folk believe this.”
“I’m the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and that includes the North,” she said, resolute.
“You gained that right through your father, who wrongfully executed a Warden of the North and his son for no righteous reason. The North, indeed, remembers. To gain their trust, it will have to be in a different fashion from Dragon’s Bay.”
The mention of The Mad King irritated her - hadn’t she proven before that she was not her father’s daughter? These people are new to me, she thought. I will have to win them over anew. “How would you go about that?” she asked.
“First, I would concentrate on what you are able to offer the North. You are eager to defend them from the Army Of The Dead, something that they would likely not be able to do on their own. In exchange, you are asking their support for your rule on the Iron Throne. And in doing that, you are helping the North get justice for the deaths of Lord Stark, his wife, and their son. That is something they value that they do not have yet.”
“That would be good to emphasize. Do you have any other suggestions?”
“Certainly, Lord Snow will have to publicly bend the knee to you,” Tyrion said. “He has already agreed to this. But, perhaps we could… phrase this action in a way that would make it seem less objectionable to the northerners?”
Daenerys could tell that her Hand was about to try and do something he considered extremely clever, and found herself grinning in spite of herself. “What sort of… phrase would be less objectionable to these northerners?”
“Why would Jon have to stop calling himself a king if he bent the knee to you? Could he not pledge his loyalty in securing your crown and become a… vassal king, so to speak? He could follow Your Grace’s lead in foreign affairs and alliances, while having the freedom to manage the internal affairs of the North without interference from you in King’s Landing. Was that not the same relationship the Wardens of Westeros had with the crown, except under a different name? Yet, a name might mean more to the North, have more symbolism to it, than we might expect.”
The queen’s eyes flew open in surprise at that, then her brow furrowed. Kings ruling Queens and Queens ruling Kings, she thought. “With the Iron Islands and now the North, it seems like everyone wants to be free to chart their own course.”
“As you said to me, they can ask all they want, but you can say yes or no. More importantly, you can dictate what ‘yes’ means to you.”
“With all of the kings and queens around, the smallfolk might become plenty confused,” Daenerys said with more than a heap of skepticism.
“Then perhaps we need a new… title for Your Grace that indicates who is the preeminent power in Westeros. Daenerys Stormborn… High Queen of Westeros.”
“High Queen of Westeros,” the queen said. She shook her head in disbelief, finally rising from her bed to put on a robe hanging from the corner of her bed. “I swear, Tyrion, I sometimes think you believe you could sell fish to the Ironborn and wheat to the Reach.”
“I have learned that, especially regarding nobility, that the appearance of something is just as important, or even more important in some instances, than its substance. This is especially the case when honor is involved,” he added, sipping his tea for emphasis.
She came to stand beside her Hand. “As something to consider,” she said, “if – if – I and Jon were to marry, how might that affect matters?”
Tyrion shrugged. “In some ways, it might simplify things. It would make more sense to let Jon have a free hand in the North if he was your husband. On the other hand, they might suspect you were trying to have undue influence over them through marriage.” He sighed after he finished his mug. “That’s one of the reasons I think we need to keep both the status of the King Of The North, and your relationship to him, quiet until we can consider the best way of presenting things. For one thing, the dead are the higher priority for now.”
Daenerys was still unsettled as she sat down in a padded chair to wait for Missandei. “We will have to let the Northern lords in on the new shape of things soon enough.”
“This is true. It is also true that there are times when clarity is called for, and times when vagueness is called for even more.” Tyrion paused at the door. “Your Grace, I will leave you to prepare for the day.”
Tyrion left the queen alone with her own thoughts. It is true that these are different people than those of Dragons’ Bay. I want them to love me as the others… but that might not be possible. I hope Jon will be able to be the bridge between us.
#
Now fully dressed and ready for the winter winds with an ankle-length white fur coat with red trim and knee-high boots of the same color and construction, Daenerys walked onto the main deck as sailors scrambled to their posts. It was off the front port side railing of the ship that she saw the King Of The North staring at the approaching land.
As he heard her footsteps behind him, Jon looked behind him. “Your Grace,” he said with a small but polite smile. He was making every effort not to let on at any sort of deeper relationship with the Dragon Queen other than trusted ally.
“Your Grace,” she responded, as she came to a stop next to him to gaze at what had Jon’s attention.
The city rose over the horizon, a creation in white appropriate for the Northern country. A two-section harbor extended away from the city, surrounded by high white stone walls. She could see buildings packed inside the walls, and at least two castles inside. “My first glimpse of the North. Quite auspicious.”
“White Harbor,” Jon said with a nod. “Easily the biggest settlement in the North, and the biggest port. It’s also directly south from Winterfell, which means it will be farther away from the big fight when it happens.”
“Which should help with what we are planning,” Daenerys said. “Will House… Manderly agree to our request?”
Jon nodded. “Centuries ago the Starks gave House Manderly shelter in the North after they were expelled from the Reach, and now they have the most prosperous settlement in the entire North. They have been allies ever since.”
“Sounds promising.”
#
Jon and Daenerys were greeted on the docks of White Harbor by the old Lord Wyman Manderly himself, lolling up to the couple and bending the knee before them. “Your Graces, welcome to White Harbor.”
“Thank you Lord Manderly,” the queen said as she tried not to acknowledge the lord’s difficulties in getting back to his feet. “This is my first time in the North, much less White Harbor. But, I understand my ancestor Aegon I came here after he was crowned king and held court here.”
“Indeed, Your Grace, as did more than a couple of his descendants,” Lord Manderley said as he gestured to the twosome to follow him down the dock and through the Seal Gate up to the New Castle.
“I am sorry I will not have more time to visit your wonderful city, but the Army of the Dead requires us to make haste toward Winterfell.”
“Very well, then,” Lord Manderly said, acknowledging his trust in them with a nod. “The Wall won’t be able to keep these creatures out, then?”
“We don’t know yet if the Wall is secure,” Jon said. “We are sending ravens to Castle Black and Eastwatch to see, but… the Wall is by no means impregnable. The Freefolk can easily scale the Wall with ropes and spikes if needed - I even did that myself. I was there when the Freefolk attacked Castle Black and they nearly carried the day. Now there may only be a couple hundred brothers of the Watch at best, manning only three castles, trying to defend against an enemy that needs no rest and has no heart to lose. We have to assume we have no time to waste to carry out our plan to protect the North.”
Lord Manderly gazed behind them as he heard a rumbling growl from the sea. Dany’s children were flying around in circles just outside the bay, looking for a place outside the city walls to lie down and rest. Then he searched the docks to see hundreds of Dothraki bloodriders and Unsullied spearmen disembarking from Targaryen ships.
“Well, our king said he planned to bring an army to help us, and he did not disappoint.” The old lord stopped, turned and bowed to Daenerys. “I thank you for coming here and providing protection to both my people and our neighbors. Anything my house and this city can do to assist you, you have but to name it.”
“You will play an important role in the defense of the North,” Jon insisted. “If we can go to the New Castle, we can show you what we mean.”
#
Jon, Daenerys, Lord Manderly, and many of their closest advisors gathered in Merman’s Court, the main hall of the New Castle. There, they looked over a map of all of Westeros that covered a long banquet table littered with cyvasse pieces and stones representing various forces throughout Westeros.
“Essentially, there will be two major movements of people in the North,” Jon began. “First, we will concentrate all of our main military forces at Winterfell. Not only our experienced soldiers, but any man or woman who is capable of bearing arms. Queen Daenerys and her army will accompany us there, along with the dragonglass from Dragonstone that can be used to kill the White Walkers and wights, to further concentrate our forces.
“Most of the crannogmen will stay in the Neck,” Jon continued, “They will make preparations on both sides of the Neck to both guard against any of the dead headed south and keep out any unfriendly forces from surprising us from the south.”
“We’re expecting friendly forces from the south?” Manderly said.
“The Knights of the Vale will send more forces under the command of Lord Royce, and Cersei Lannister says that she will provide forces as well,” Jon said.
“Whether her word is any good or not, and I have much doubt of it, there are her former bannermen in the Westerlands and Reach who have bent the knee to me,” Daenerys said. “They are too few to make a significant impact on our fighting numbers, but they can hold those areas for us and send North what food and supplies they can spare. Our cities in Dragon’s Bay are also sending any food and supplies they can spare to both White Harbor and Dragonstone. We bring the first of those shipments to your port now.”
“Anything we can get would be helpful,” Manderly said to the queen. “The maesters say this will be a harsh winter, and any extra morsels of food would be welcomed, Army of the Dead or not.”
“Here is the second part of the plan,” Jon said, pointing to White Harbor. “All of those too young, old, or infirm to fight will be sent to White Harbor. We will put them on the ships now unloading our army and have them evacuate temporarily to Dragonstone for their protection.”
“A garrison of my army now occupies Dragonstone and can protect them from any threat from Cersei or her pet Greyjoy,” Daenerys said. “They would be our guests, and I would ensure their care until the battle against the dead are over.”
“Will there be enough space for everyone there?” The group turned to see Brienne of Tarth standing with Jon and Daenerys’ advisors. “I could ask my father if we could not also make room on Tarth for the people. Our island would have more space if needed.”
“Thank you for your offer,” Daenerys said, “but Dragonstone will be the most easily defended of the two locations and we are hoping that this will only be a temporary refuge. It might be a good idea to contact your father and see if he would be open to taking on more people later if needed, however.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Brienne said.
Manderly bowed briefly down to the queen. “You are most generous with your hospitality, Your Grace. I thank you, for my grandchildren and others.”
“There is a practical reason for our plan as well,” Jon said. “Any person killed by the White Walkers or their wights can become one of them. Even children and the old can be dangerous if raised by the Night King’s magic. We would look to prevent the Night King from adding any further to his army.
“We would ask you keep a sufficient force here at White Harbor so that the walls could be defended against an attack by the dead, a rear guard,” Jon said. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that, and we stop them at Winterfell.”
Manderly nodded. “I’ll stay here with a rearguard of my more experienced men and send the rest along with you to Winterfell. We’ll be enough to hold off an attack until we can get everyone onto boats and out of the harbor. Are the other Northern lords aware of your plan?”
“We’re sending out ravens to the lords at Winterfell and throughout the North right now,” Jon said. “The Queen and I plan to make our way to Winterfell as soon as our ships are unloaded. You can start evacuating the children and old from White Harbor right away. We will also leave you sufficient dragonglass weapons to arm your people here.”
“Again, thank you for your generosity,” Lord Manderly said. “We will begin to get word to the people here to pack up and get to the ships.”
“Of course,” Jon said as they shook hands. “Have them take just food, clothing, and any tools they might have, the rest they’ll need to leave.”
“Understood.”
#
“So, how are the preparations for converting this dragonglass into weapons?” Daenerys said to Jon as they approached a forge nearby the New Castle.
“The smith we’ve had designing weapons is preparing to ship off everything we have to Winterfell to complete the work,” Jon said. “He’s already had the chance to work with some of the dragonglass and see how it can be used. The first ones we'll leave for the Manderlys to help them defend the city.”
Jon stopped before they entered the forge and took the queen by the elbow. “Before we enter, I need to tell you something of this man, the smith.”
#
There was a flurry of activity around and inside the forge. Men and women alike loaded dragonglass in sacks into waiting carts for the trip to Winterfell. Two men were in the middle of the storm of people, directing the wagon traffic and making sure none of the cargo was missing.
Daenerys immediately recognized the older, white-bearded man as Jon’s adviser Ser Davos Seaworth. The other was unfamiliar, tall, powerfully muscled, with black hair cut close to the skull and brilliant blue eyes, a solemn man in his early twenties covered with a touch of soot from the forges. This is the man, she thought.
Davos looked up to see Jon and Daenerys approaching. “Your Grace,” Davos said, addressing the queen directly, “this is Gendry. He’s been getting the dragonglass ready for use.”
Gendry froze for a second at the sight of her, then gave a hesitant nod. “Your Grace,” he half-mumbled.
“King Jon has said you’ve had some experience working with this material,” Daenerys said. “Will it work as a weapon?”
“Good enough,” Gendry said, more clearly this time. “If I could, Your Grace?” She nodded.
Gendry bade them to come into the forge, where he walked behind a table covered with dragonglass in various shapes. “By just striking them, with hammer and chisel, they can easily become daggers, spear points for spears, arrowheads. It’s much harder to forge them, but you can do it with some of the arrowheads. It’s usually faster just to chip them.” He picked up a large cleaver-like dragonglass piece attached to a wooden handle. “They make good axes, and hammers as well.”
The queen had a sudden realization. “The weapons that my Dothraki riders use on horseback, the arakh, can these be made into one of those?”
“Your man Ser Jorah asked me about that,” Gendry said. “It would be too difficult to turn the dragonglass into a long blade, but I’ve come up with something else.” He grabbed an object from the table and held it up for her inspection.
It was a wooden-handled item, reinforced with iron in the center and shaped much like an arakh. Small square chunks of obsidian jutted out from the outside of the “blade” at regular intervals. “Ser Jorah had a few of the Dothraki come by and test them out on some horse carcasses. They seemed to be happy with them. We can make sure each of your riders gets one of these before the time comes.”
“Thank you, Gendry.” She was unsure of how to proceed next with what she had to say. “I know you are busy getting everything ready, but I had a question for you.”
Those words gave both Jon and Davos pause, but they said nothing as she continued. “I understand that Robert Baratheon was your father.”
Gendry was visibly surprised at the question, setting down the arakh and staring down at the table for a moment before finally meeting her eyes. “He was,” he finally said.
“What do you know of him?”
He shrugged at that. “I know he was king. He was supposed to be a great fighter. I also know he took the crown from your father and killed your… brother?” She nodded at that, and there was a long silence before Gendry continued. “That’s all I know. I never met him myself. By the time I learned he was my father, he was already dead.”
“I see,” Daenerys said. “King Jon said that you were one of the ones who joined him Beyond the Wall to capture the Night King’s soldier. He said you were the one that got word to me that he and the others were in trouble.” Gendry nodded silently at that.
“Thank you,” the queen said to a startled Gendry. “If not for you, I don’t know what would have happened to Jon and the others with him. With that, and your work here… You have done me more than one good favor. I won’t forget.”
Gendry allowed himself just the hint of a smile as he visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“We should be getting ready for travel and you have to make preparations,” Daenerys said. “Thank you again for meeting me. Ser Davos, good to see you again.” With that, and with few stammered goodbyes from Davos and Gendry, Jon and Daenerys took their leave.
As Jon and Daenerys walked away, she turned to him. “Does anything of him remind you of the father? You met him before, did you not?”
Jon nodded. “Add 20 years and a full beard to him and they would look nearly the same. Gendry has something of the old king’s temper, but he's more… humble.”
“He grew up in... Flea Bottom, you said? I have the feeling that’s not where the wealthy live in King’s Landing.”
“Aye. They say the old king was skillful with a war hammer. Gendry is skilled with one himself, but I think that comes from his work as a smith.”
“It’s still strange, having the son of my father’s usurper and brother’s killer serving us.”
“I remember what you told me on Dragonstone, about how the sons are not responsible for the father’s crimes.”
Trying to appeal to my better nature, as the others do. Somehow I accept it from him better, though. “I did say that.”
“I happen to agree with it. In fact, that was one of the reasons I started to like you.”
Ahhhh, Jon… I’d thought men like you only existed in the songs… almost too honorable for your own good. Almost.
She glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied, she reached behind Jon and for the briefest of moments stroked the small of his back. “I’m glad I made a good impression on you,” she said.
“Me too.”