Dragons and Wolves

Aegon had come by again, to collect another of Bran’s potions.

Bran snickered to himself, the king thought he was giving him a potion that would calm the dragons but he’d been giving them nothing of the sort. He told had told the king that it took a year’s worth of doses to be effective and the king had been coming by weekly to collect.

Around King’s Landing, everyone talked about the impending war with the North, the king’s men terrified of braving the wall. Bran didn’t blame him, his thoughts drifting off to nearly starving while on the run. He shook his terrible memories away, all it did was bring up thoughts of Meera. Bran had been on edge for nearly a year, he was utterly surprised the King still had no idea who his family was.

Still, the king’s ignorance of his heritage didn’t make him any less paranoid, too nervous to write Jon or his other siblings at any length. He knew it must’ve been driving Sansa half mad by now.

He wheeled his way through the cobbled floors of the Guild Hall, towards his quarters. He had taken to teaching some of the apprentices, alchemy was becoming a popular trade but unfortunately not everyone was as magically inclined as he was and his students were failing horribly.

The hairs rose on the back of his neck as he drew closer to his quarters, something felt off in the air around him. The stone door of his small cell was ajar, his room in shambles, papers shredded and tossed all over, half of his books bent and broken. It was then that Bran felt a sword at his throat, his attacker’s other hand squeezed his shoulder.

“The king wants to see you, Brandon….Stark,” His attacker snickered. He heard another set of footsteps behind him, as he was struck in the temple with the hilt of a sword and a dark sack went over his head.

--

Jon stared at the former queen in shock, never before had he seen a sight so beautiful, he would’ve thought her pale hair and coloring would’ve made her blend in to their snowy surroundings but instead she stuck out like a diamond in dark mine. She wore a pale purple silken dress the same color as her eyes and its near translucence left very little to Jon’s eager imagination. Her hair had grown longer and curled down to her waist in silvery waves. His eyes drank in every inch of her.

“Your highness,” Jon gasped, unsure what to say. He stood there like an idiot, Ghost calm at his side.

She dismounted Rhaegal and approached him without a word, she looked at him with a smirk, “You never addressed me as such when I was a queen, why now that I’m not?”

“I—I don’t know,” Jon wanted to smack himself, he hadn’t been this stupid since his first conversation with Ygritte. He had pictured this reunion a thousand times and not in a single one of his scenarios did he come off like a complete imbecile. Val and Sam were sure to find his bumbling hilarious when he told them later. He shook his head,” Why are you here—Daenerys?”

He it seemed odd to call her by her first name, Jon nearly choked on it.

She looked down, an embarrassed look on her face, “I don’t know.”

They stood in silence for a minute before Jon coughed, “Everyone says your dead.”

“Do I look like a ghost to you?” She laughed.

No, she looked like a goddess to him, “You look alive and well, where have you been?”

“Is it strange that I had travelled all over the world and had never really seen it? I decided to travel and truly take in the sights. After what happened, I was struggling to remember any good I had seen in this world, anywhere without war, bloodshed, slavery or rape and I couldn’t think of a single one.
And then I realized, I hadn’t just come across a ton of darkness in the world, I had sought it out. I decided I was way over due to seek some good in the world,” Her lavender eyes sought his and Jon’s heart started to thump madly in his chest.

“Then why out of all the places in the world did you decide to return to this wintery wasteland?” Jon attempted a smile, hoping the joke would ease the growing tension in the air.

She held his gaze, something in her lavender eyes refused to let him look away, “You.”

--

“Bran, Bran, wake, my little Brandon,” Bran jolted away, he knew that voice.

“Mum?” He blinked, his vision slowly coming into focus, he saw the outline of his mother, long auburn hair and pale visage. He blinked again, wishing for his vision to come into focus, there was no one he missed more than his mother.

But when his vision cleared he wished it hadn’t. His mother’s ghost was pulsating into and out of view with the beat of his heart. Her sapphire dress was stained red with blood, her skin clammy and blue like she had been in cold water. Dark blood dribbled down her mouth and out of a wound across her throat onto her chest.

Crouched next to him, her hands grabbed his and pulled him up. Her hands were icy and as cold as a corpse and her eyes glazed over, her dark green irises trimmed with a milky blue. She pulled him onto his feet until he was standing over her.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” Bran asked, looking down he realized he was truly dreaming, he was dressed in his Winterfell coats and not his Guild robe, his wheelchair nowhere in sight.

She attempted to give him a warm smile but it only made more blood and water dribble down her chest, “Oh, my Bran, you’re so tall now.”

It was strange, standing, he hadn’t done so since he was very small, when everyone, even Arya, still towered over him. Even stranger was realizing how tall he actually was, he was at least as tall as his father had been and probably only a tad shorter than Jon.

“Mum, what’s going on?” Bran asked again.

She looked at him sadly, “My sweet little Bran, I didn’t want this life for you. Alchemy, greensight, warging, all of this supernatural madness. When I married your father, I knew I was marrying to a different culture of northerners but even in my darkest nightmares, I could never had come up with things you have suffered.”

Bran gaped at his mother, he had no idea how to respond. When she started to sob, he pulled her close to him, not caring blood and river water began to seep through his coats.

“I knew you’d never be Lord Stark, Robb would lead Winterfell of course but I pictured you being a knight, winning tourneys, giving your favor to some beautiful Southron girl,” Her clammy hands had his shoulders in a death grip and Bran struggled not to buckle under her strength as she sobbed into his chest.

His heart lurched, “Mom that was never the life for me, I’m no warrior, that’s Rickon and Arya’s trade.”

He wanted to tell her he was happy, despite losing them, despite being crippled he had made a name for himself. That he loved his alchemy and that in his dreams he ran with wolves faster than a human ever could.

As if she had heard his thoughts her grip grew tighter, “Instead here your are, dabbling in dark magics, stealing the bodies of other living creatures in your dreams, half in love with that Crannog girl Meera.”

His mother pushed him away, looking deeply at his face, scrutinizing him, instead of backing down Bran did the same to his mother. Past the gore, despite the theatrics, he sensed his mother was hiding something.

“I know this is not just a dream mum, tell me what you’re hiding, why are you here?” He gazed into his mothers azure eyes, trying to weasel out her secrets.

His mother gave him a warm smile, “You were always the smartest of my children Bran.”

Her soft words made Bran’s heart lurch, “Mum.”

“I can’t tell you what is to come in the future but I can nudge you in the right direction, that bloody bastard is going to get you all killed,” She spat.

“Don’t speak of Jon like that! He’s been taking care of us! He’s trying to raise Winterfell again! I know you hated him for father’s transgressions but he’s still out brother and we love him,”

With supernatural strength his mother threw Bran into the stone wall of his cell, his back cracked and the wind was knocked out of him. Bran struggled onto his feet and his mother flew to him.

“He’s not your brother!” She snarled, she roughly grabbed his shoulders, “I can show you where to find the truth.”

The world faded around him into darkness and he caught glimpses of the cells of the red keep, flying down the corridor his vision showed him a woman with curly blonde hair and a scar on her cheek, then took him out of the castle to show him the chained dragons, then down into King’s Landing he was shown a blacksmith with dark hair and blue eyes. Then his mother dragged him into the sky and the world faded into darkness again.

When the world began to ebb into existence again, he was at the Neck, directly south of Winterfell.

His mother’s ghost dragged him through the air and into the swamp of the Neck, darting through the thick trees at breakneck speed. The smell of the leaves and fresh earth overwhelmed Bran’s senses as his mother took him to the Greywater Watch. It was impossible for outsider’s to find, he remembered Meera and Jojen telling him it was on a floating island in one of the thousand of the Neck’s swamps and moved constantly. Unless you were a crannogmen it was impossible to find.

But it seemed in death, nothing remained hidden from you for they had reached the Greywater watch. It was beautiful, it looked like winterfell but covered in vines and cloaked in dense fog. His mother floated them through the stone walls and into a great hall. An elderly man who looked a great deal like Jojen and Meera sat at a wooden desk. Bran narrowed his eyes, the elderly man was obviously their father Howland Reed, a man who had been a dear friend of his own father.

Instead of stopping, his mother pulled him upward, through the stone roof, through the fog and through the dense trees up to see the dark sky. Holding him up with only one hand she pointed with one gray finger at the stars. More blood poured from her wound and she looked exhausted.

In a strangled voice she whispered, “This is where Castle Greywater will be tomorrow, if you want to know Jon’s true origin, you must find a way here. I'm tired my son, I need to leave now.”

“But—“ Before Bran could finish his sentence his mother let go and Bran began to fall again. With a scream, he fell and fell but never hit the ground. A sharp pain began to blossom in his ribs.

Bran jolted awake with a scream, to a man in a gold cloak kicking him in the ribs, he struggled to roll away but his legs wouldn’t budge.

Standing a few feet away was King Aegon with a petulant grimace on his face.

--

Jon and Dany rode Rhaegal back to Castle Black in utter silence. After Dany’s admission, Jon hadn’t said a word, instead he had whispered a few words to Ghost and the direwolf had run off into the wilderness, in the direction of Castle Black.

On dragon back, the ride to Castle Black was incredibly short but it felt like it was taking an eternity.

To keep himself from getting cut by dragon scales he had fashioned one of his coats into a makeshift saddle but it was slippery and to keep atop Rhaegal he had to hold onto Dany’s hips.

Dany was kicking herself, what can made her think she could just come out and say she had come back just to see him? Not only did she make herself look completely stupid, she made herself weak!

The five minute ride felt like it took days and soon they touched down on Castle Black. To Dany’s shock she had received a warm welcome and Jon quickly explained everything from Aegon’s letter to preparing for war. Dany had nodded, she had been terribly worried that coming here would get the Northerners in trouble with the Seven Kingdoms but it seemed they already had trouble of their own brewing.

Making himself at home, Rhaegal quickly flew off and landed comfortable on of the roofs of Castle Black, it wasn’t as warm as the Red Keep but it worked well enough for the emerald dragon and he quickly drifted off to sleep. Rhaego seemed excited to be around people again and had nipped at Jon in greeting once they had landed.

The Starks and their maester were quick to come to Jon’s side and Jon left her with his sister’s giving her some excuse about paperwork and organizing patrols but she knew the real reason. She had made him feel awkward and sorry for her. Dany had to struggle to keep from smacking herself, how could she have been so stupid?! She quelled the urge to growl in frustration.

“Your majesty,” The beautiful Sansa stark curtsied to her and Dany came to understand why men from all over King’s Landing spoke of her, the oldest Lady Stark was breathtaking, her hair was a red and wavy as fire and her eyes were a practically glowing blue, “It’s a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance.”

Dany waved her off, “I am no longer a queen, please call me by my given name, Daenerys, may I do the same to you Lady Stark?”

“Y-yes, call me Sansa,” Sansa smiled shocked, she gestured to their maester, a plump man with intelligent brown eyes, “This is our maester, Samwell Tarly. If you need anything you may go to him.”

Daenerys nodded to him, “Maester Tarly.”

He bowed to her with a polite smile.

Sansa continued her introductions, “This is my younger sister , Arya.”

Arya Stark was equally as beautiful but she looked half-wild. In fact, she looked like a female version of Jon but with gray eyes instead of black. She nodded in greeting, her eyes looking a million miles away. She was dressed like a man, to her back was strapped a sword and she wore a dozen knives on her belt.

“This is Lord Rickon Stark, heir to Winterfell,” Sansa gestured to a boy in his young teens, he had bright blue eyes like Sansa but otherwise looked exactly like Jon and Arya. He bowed to her and she did the same back.

“Thanks for letting me stay here, Lord Stark,” She smiled and he appeared flustered by her.

“My pleasure,” He smiled awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly.

One of the three direwolves nearby howled and Sansa rolled her eyes, “I can’t forget the rest of the
Stark pack, the loud black one is Shaggydog and I’m sure you’ve met Ghost and Summer by now.”
Daenerys nodded to the Wolves.

“Oh really, you introduce those blasted mutts before me?” A tall, beautiful blonde woman stomped over, followed by an even taller blonde with short hair dressed in silver armor and a light haired knight wearing armor with House Arryn crests. “So you’re the woman who has our Lord Commander in a tizzy? I’m Val, most beautiful and strongest female of all the Wildlings and personal advisor to the Starks.”

"And the most modest," Maester Tarly whispered under his breath loud enough for them all to hear.
Val ignored him and grabbed Dany’s hand, shaking it vigorously.

The Starks looked at the tall blonde aghast and Daenerys burst out laughing, “A pleasure to meet you Val.”

She gestured to the people behind her, “This brute is Brienne of Tarth, Lady Sansa’s personal bodyguard and this man is mine, Theodren Hunter, knight of the Vale.”

The two nodded to her. Dany was shocked that even people of the Vale were here to support the Starks but then she remembered the Starks were somehow related to them somehow. But she was even more shocked at how Val addressed him, she’d have to ask someone about that later.

Instead of letting her go, Val hooked arms with her and dragged her toward Castle Black, “Let me show you around.”

The Starks watched Val, shocked, and Maester Tarly coughed, “You can’t just roughhouse and bully everyone you meet.”

“Just watch me,” Val scoffed, she turned to look at Dany, “You don’t mind do you, Daenerys?”

Dany was just as shocked as the Starks but kind of liked the woman, in a way she reminded her of the Sand Snakes and even her Dothrakis with her brusqueness , “Not at all.”

“See!” She yelled at the Maester before turning back to Dany, "Care to bring the baby dragon along?”

Dany turned to look back to Rhaego, “Do you want to come to Rhaego?”

Rhaego, who was as big as a horse, squeaked happily and trodded over to them. Val led the two into
Castle Black with Val’s knight following silently behind.

--

Jon retreated to his office as quickly as possible. After he had shut the stone door he had quickly punched a hole into his wooden desk. Seething, he sunk down into his office chair and thunked his head onto his desk.

She had come all the way North…. for him.

What was he going to do? It had taken every modicum of his will power not to grab her and kiss her.

Was she here to visit or here to stay? Would she fight with them against Aegon?

His heart thudded violently against his rib cage, when would the qu—Daenerys come to her senses?

Even dethroned, she was far above his station, a noble lady had no business with a bastard. Why in the all the world would she come all the way here for the likes of him? At best, they could enter into a liaison but how was Jon going to keep his vows? What would his men think of him and his rules if he broke them to be with the dragoness? He couldn’t.

He sighed, he couldn’t do this. He had a duty to the Night’s Watch and to the Starks. Even at risk of breaking his heart and hers alike, he had to be an example for Rickon, like his father, he had to be a man of honor.

He had to reject Queen Daenerys if she tried to pursue him, not only for her honor but his own as well.