Chapter 13: The Queen's Great Council Pt.2Summary:
Tyrion and Varys have a discussion.
Daenerys adjourns the first day of deliberations with more problems than solutions.
As she watches the sunset and ruminates on these matters, Jon shows up to have a rather awkward conversation with her.
Notes:
Thank you very much for your feedback. Your comments are so thorough and analytical that you have left me practically speechless.
For a moment, I almost forgot that Jon and Theon had met again at some point in Dragonstone on the show and I plan to keep that arc as it has one of Jon's best lines that was obviously thrown away in season 8.
They will eventually meet.
Enjoy!
And Happy Halloween 🎃
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
13.
The Queen's Great Council Pt.2.
304 ac
King's Landing.
Tyrion observed as the northern soldiers carried off an unarmed Arya Stark while her brother stood behind with her weapons in one hand. When Jon turned and caught Tyrion staring, the king gave the Hand a slight nod, acknowledging him.
"It seems that the King has finally dealt with his family problems," Varys' annoying intrusion did not wait. The way he addressed Jon Snow as the King rubbed Tyrion up the wrong way.
"Cersei and her baby will continue being endangered as long as Arya Stark is in the city. I will advise Daenerys to order her exile," Tyrion said.
Varys hummed in disapproval.
"It would not be in her best interest to proceed hostilely against Ned Stark's daughter," he said. "Queen Daenerys knew that the young Stark would show up sooner or later so she ordered her guard not to interfere if she reached out to her brother."
Tyrion whipped his face at him.
"So far I have understood how compromised your feelings are in this situation, my Lord," Varys insisted, seeing the expression in his face contorted, "But you are fooling yourself at this point; Cersei and Jaime are going to die, regardless of this child."
Tyrion winced.
"Has she already decided that?" he asked, somehow desperately.
Varys blinked, somehow confused.
Tyrion recaptured his composure.
"I need to convince her to let this child be born," he explained, speaking low and gravely, "He or she, is an innocent."
"Do you still blame yourself for the deaths of your niece and nephew?" Varys asked him.
"If hadn't killed my father..."
"But you did kill your father and there's nothing that will undo it. You choose a side. And as far as I can remember, you promised Cersei that she will taste ashes in her mouth."
Tyrion sucked in a deep breath.
"We do and say things we don't mean to in the heat of the moment."
"If our words and actions mean nothing then nothing means nothing in the end." Varys joined his hands under the long sleeves of his robe. "Clear your mind, Lord Tyrion. All our efforts must be put in guiding Queen Daenerys on the best path. And we will only achieve that with an unbiased view."
***
In a past life, Dany was part of a council like the one she was presiding, where many opinions collided and different worldviews struggled to prevail.
Rightfully so, her noble guests objected that traitors and kinslayers were among her allies.
"War arranges strange alliances," Daenerys replied. "However, the law is the law and it should be imposed on all of us," she said with her blank gaze set to a point on the ground.
She made no further comment on the matter, given the presence of Ellaria Sand and her daughters. Dany was aware of the danger they posed and that is why she had already set out a plan.
Tyrion was another matter.
Someone brought up the subject of the limits between Dorne and The Reach, disputes over territories that had been overlooked by Cersei and worsened during Dorne's cup.
"All members of this Council will respect the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms," Daenerys stated very firmly, eyeing Yara Greyjoy who returned a smirk.
"All members?" came forth, Lady Olenna's objection. "As far as I can see here there are four kingdoms at best," she rightly pointed out.
Normally, Daenerys would not be bothered by Lady Olenna's meddling but that had come with a clear intent. If Varys' insinuations were to count, the Queen of Thorns was once again stretching out her roots in hopes of assuring her hold on the Iron Throne.
"What will become of the North, Your Grace, if King Jon Snow chooses not to bend the knee?" asked one Lord Ned, from the Stormlands, a region still headless. "No offense, but we've heard that the king is your guest."
Dany wasn't stupid. She knew about the rumors that were running in the halls of Red Keep. Some said that her eventual marriage alliance would be with Lord Desmond. The others that Jon Snow was there to ask for her hand.
All of them unfounded and hasty.
The previous time she had been straightforward with Lady Olenna by telling her head-on that she knew her loyalty was not to her but to her own pain and thirst for revenge. She had had a conformist and overconfident mentality like that of any young person. Now with the throne seized and the city starving while on the onset of winter, she had to set on a long-term planning and concede when necessary.
***
Sunset painted the sky of an orange-gold color that stretched far and wide as it faded slowly, the night upcoming covering the city under its dark veil. Daenerys sighed and beheld the sight with wistful eyes. Far off in the distance, her children were flying, their silhouettes like birds soaring through the sky.
She had adjourned the first meeting with the Council for that day. The city was calm and the tender shift in weather was very welcomed.
Behind her, at a safe distance, Jon stood at the top of the stairs that led down to the terrace.
His piercing gaze lingered a little too long on her small but imposing frame and even feeling daring and unable to suppress his urges, his eyes flitted to her backside inadvertently.
Jon looked up and cleared his throat to make his presence be known.
The queen had required his company as well as he has intended to come to her presence.
"It's a beautiful sight," he said, and cursing his choice of words, he added, "The sky, I mean,"
He cursed a second time.
Her hands resting on the low wall in front of her clenched and she turned slightly to study him. He was still cautious, and she honestly preferred him this way.
"I heard you lost two brothers," she softly recalled.
In the past, she used this same exchange to step on firmer terrain. She had wanted to draw some of their similarities and might build a bridge between them.
"Aye," came his rough answer. She could sense it pained him.
"Well, I lost two brothers too. And I named two of my children after them."
She had been so desperate to reach out to him then that she ended up falling into the void surrounding him.
"How is your sister? I've been informed of her return," she asked him.
Jon shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked away.
"She's fine. And I wanted to thank you for that," he said, climbing down and approaching.
"What would you thank me for? For glossing over your open rebellion and disrespect?"
She expected him to answer again that it wasn't their intention or try somehow to bend the truth to his will and make Daenerys feel invalidated, as he used to.
With Jon Snow, Dany never knew where she was stepping on, if in safe and firm ground or on thin, brittle ice.
One wrong step and she could fall into the depths of his sad, miserable, and cold waters.
"I'm not going to make excuses for her, or for myself. It's my fault that she acted out like this. I'm the one who underestimated the extent of the damage," he said.
"What do you mean?" she asked, sincerely curious.
He sighed heavily as he hesitated.
"I haven't seen Arya in the last five years or so since my father's death. Although at times I choose to see my little sister in her, that girl is no longer there and in her place, there is a person that I don't know," he confessed.
Dany glanced at him with a nascent smile on her face.
"Do you always choose to see the good in people, Jon Snow?" she questioned him, "Should I presume then, that you have seen something good in me as well?"
"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't, Your Grace."
She averted his eyes; softly staring at her.
"Curious," she said, "I'm always looking for the hidden reasons people may hold, and usually, I'm not very wrong."
Without a warning, he approached.
"I don't mean to antagonize you," Jon spoke, enough closely to make her flinch a little. He noticed this and blinked in confusion. "If I were free to do as I please—" he started, but she didn't let him finish.
"But you are," she stated, turning around completely to look at him in the eye, "You are a King. You are allowed to make decisions on your own, regardless of what other people might think."
"It's not that simple. It never is," he almost laughed as he said.
Dany twitched her mouth and keep a stiff upper lip.
"I used to believe it was your pride," she admitted, thinking again in other memories of a time gone, "It is your family. The Starks," she said, words dripping with bitterness. "You want so desperately to serve them and serve them well..."
"Isn't that what we all want?" he interrupted her. "Exactly why are you here? Isn't it to claim back what was stolen from your family?"
"You know it was just part of it," she snapped at him, in a moment of irritation, missing the fact that this was not the Jon Snow she knew. The Jon Snow that knew her.
He frowned in confusion.
Daenerys cleared her throat. "I know you are a Stark—" she started to say but he cut her off, stating,
"I am not a Stark, but my loyalty is to them and to the North. It always has, it will always be."
She winced, almost imperceptibly.
"I don't want to be untruthful to you, Queen Daenerys, or make empty promises to you. I am true to my word. Or I try my best to be. That is why I cannot give you what you ask—"
"But I haven't asked you anything, Jon Snow," she crossed him. "I'm not going to ask you to swear an oath you will not uphold. When enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything," she said, returning his words to him. "Your loyalty means nothing to me, the fealty others have sworn to me, not much more. What counts are the actions that can endorse the true intentions of good men."
He laughed in a rueful way.
"My apologies for the bluntness, Your Grace, but I would have expected to hear those words from someone more cynical like Tyrion and not from the woman who brought dragons back to the world of men."
"Now, you presume to know me," She challenged him, "So what if I decide to send all my armies and my dragons to seize the North?"
The smile and the softness of his face had vanished and now his features had hardened as his eyes turned to a stormy gray color. Dany didn't allow herself to fear him, either out of pride or because she had to stay calm whatever came her way.
He knew the truth, he had to know it by then and if she pushed hard enough, then he would tell her now and she would save herself having to keep up with all that false act that was tiring her out.
Just say it, she thought.
Just take everything I have as you have done before.
Dany tensed when his hand held her arm, not aggressively, and said,
"Marry me."
Notes:
This conversation doesn't end here but I'm dying to read your reactions.
And guys, I know that what Jon says will feel unpleasant for a moment but, bear with me a moment please, just for now he is his past version struggling with the turmoil of emotions he died with.
I am trying to explore his psyche in the most complicated and messy way possible.
Next chapter, last part of this Great Council.
Jon shows the wight to the Council. Daenerys takes some decisions. Jaime reveals something to Tyrion.