Chapter Text
“My people won’t accept a southern ruler, not after everything they’ve suffered.”
“They will if their king does. They chose you to lead them. They chose you to protect them. Isn’t their survival more important than your pride?”
Logic.
She’d come into this cave with him and he had thrown proof of his monster tales at her, proof that the Night King was real, that men and some people called children of the forest had banded together to defeat the great evil lying beyond the Wall.
She had thrown logic at him in return, a simple solution to his problem: swear fealty to her and all of the North would be protected.
Neither of them had very much liked what the other had offered. The dragonglass was beautiful in the glow from the torch, and her promise of fighting for the North was sound and sure, and yet, they were standing less than a foot apart, unable to reach an agreement.
Jon was so horribly stubborn.
And horribly handsome, Dany thought.
To her dismay, a small swarm of butterflies had formed in her stomach in response to their proximity.
Well, that, and the fact that he was currently staring at her lips.
Normally, men did not have such an effect on her.
She had learned very early on in their relationship - or whatever one wished to call the dance they had found themselves in - that he was quite different.
“He sounds like quite a man.”
Her dreams came true, and it seems so did her words. It took quite a man to reduce her to this: feeling warm and half wishing that maybe he could lean forward so that she could feel his beard on her skin as they -
Enough!
She was a queen, not a little girl, and this was an infatuation! She hadn’t been touched by a man in months, and yes, Jon was very handsome - one might even say beautiful - but she was not about to succumb to her base desires and destroy the little respect he had for her.
Angrily, she gripped the torch she was holding. Then she thrust it back into his hand before walking away and leaving him to catch up.
There was darkness before her as she reached the little rocky passageway they had come through.
Then, oddly, it was bright, as if the sun itself had appeared before her.
She held a hand up to her eyes, wondering how any brazier or torch could give off this much light.
“Do you see that?”
“Yes.”
He was right behind her now. There was no room for him to stand at her side.
Not that she wanted him to. No, she was cross with him, and somehow, she thought this was his fault, that maybe he had gotten them lost and now they were leaving the cave in a different place than where they had entered.
She asked him that.
“Did you get us lost?”
He scoffed.
“No! There was only one way out and one way in, Your Grace.”
He had said her title in the same tone he had on the day they had first met, sneering at her and acting as if it was entirely alright to speak to her so callously.
“Clearly that wasn’t the case, my lord.” she snapped, and then she was walking again, wanting to put some distance between them.
The moment he caught her by the wrist was the same moment the light became so bright they were left blinded.
Then the world was spinning, and fear struck her, because she was not going to die in a cave in, done in by rocks, not after all that she had survived.
That was when she laced her hand with Jon’s and pulled him forward as they ran.
And then, as suddenly as everything had changed, the light faded in intensity and the world went still, and as she blinked, she found that she could see.
It was what she saw that made her heart race.
No. No, it can’t be. This is a dream, it has to be. It’s not real.
But it felt real. It looked real, and it smelled real, too. The smell of the sea, more salty than brimstone the way it was on Dragonstone, and the scent of flowers in bloom. All of the fine furnishings, gauzy curtains that blew in the gentle breeze, and …
Her dress swished, the pink fabric light as it clung to her slender frame.
“Daenerys?” came a voice, and it was shocked and confused, and not as deep as she knew it to be.
When she caught sight of the man it belonged to, her eyes grew wide.
Perhaps boy was a better description.
Gone was the thick beard and mustache, replaced by sparse copies of them. And there were no more scars around his eyes, and his face was younger, far younger, years at the least!
“Jon?” she whispered.
He stared at her with his gray eyes that were so big she thought they might leave their sockets.
“I … I …What is this? What’s happened?” he questioned.
He spun around, whirling on his heels, the cloak he had on his shoulders spinning with him as he took in their surroundings.
“This is not Dragonstone. And I … and you …” he trailed as he stopped spinning and looked down at his clothing.
He was no longer wearing the armor she had been convinced was the sole item in his wardrobe. Instead, he was in blacks and grays, trousers and a plain doublet with an undershirt tucked below it, and some boots that seemed neither new nor old. His cloak had fur around the collar, and she noted that his hair had changed, too.
It was down now, and loose, a mess of curls that if she wasn't so shaken, she would have found to be very lovely.
Slowly, she brought her hands up to her own hair.
No. No, no, no …
But it was true. Her braids were nonexistent. All she felt were her silken silver strands, soft and flowing freely between her fingers.
It was then that she picked up the skirts of her dress and ran to the balcony.
Her breath caught and her mouth fell open as she saw the many ships scattered about the bay.
It was just as she remembered from all those years ago.
No, no, no! I can’t be back here! How? This is -
Dany flinched as a hand touched her bare shoulder.
“Where are we?” Jon pressed, in a voice that was shaky and distraught.
He didn’t take his hand off of her as she inhaled before giving him her answer.
“Pentos. We are in Pentos. We … We are across the Narrow Sea.”
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