Dragons and Wolves

They arrived in King's Landing at last. The queen's massive black dragon, Drogon she called him, landed with a large thud. A dirt cloud puffed around them and Jon squinted his eyes, not used to dry soil.

It appeared they were outside the Red Keep, he knew it immediately for it was exactly as it's name implied. Queen Daenerys and Jhaqo had already dismounted the great scaley beast but Jon was too enraptured with his new surroundings. And not in a good way.

He felt as if he was on a foreign planet, he was used to gray skies and white grounds, with beautiful green pine trees and red woods. He was used to open space and large landscapes.

He'd be finding none of that South, he realized. The city was crowded and if not a bit smelly. Thousands of dirty houses and manors were clumped together in a such a tiny spot of land by the sea. The harbor appeared to be rotten, if the smell was anything to go by.

He squeezed Summer, hoping he'd wake. He felt like an outsider and maybe, he rationalized, if the great direwolf woke he wouldn't feel so alone. He already missed his Ghost, but he knew the albino direwolf would hate the South even more than he did. It was a blessing he didn't bring him.

"Commander Snow?" Queen Daenerys snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to look down at her.

"Care to dismount sometime this winter, good ser?" She grinned.

"I'm no ser, just a humble Crow," Jon sighed and hopped down. Summer was in his arms and he barely felt the massive canines weight. He looked around at the busy city below once more. "A crow who is definitely away from its nest."

"Are you up to seeing the dungeons now?" The queen asked. "I thought it best to get it out of the way now and then you can visit with your brother for a few days before you set off."

He nodded. That was understandable, she wanted her dungeons cleaned out as soon as possible so her city would be safe. But he had hoped for more time with Bran, to make sure his brother was safe here. And in his darkest dreams, he had hoped for more time with the dragon queen.

His eyes searched her face, her personality reminded him so strongly of his first love Ygritte but they looked so different. The woman had been a wilding in not personality alone but appearance as well. Harsh and hard as the winters they both struggled to survive in. The Queen was the fire and light her and her dragons bathed in, she looked almost fragile until you challenged her and learned her appearance was deceiving.

He must have been looking at her strangely for the Queen gave him an odd look, "Right this way Commander Snow."

They walked toward the castle, Jon was amazed how large it was. The castle of Winterfell was large but the Red Keep had been made to house dragons. Her dark green dragon lounged on the roof and the white appeared to be approaching Drogon who had stayed behind.

The baby silver dragon, whom he believed was named Rhaego if he remembered correctly, flew over to land on The Dragon Lady's chest. She stroked her beloved baby and led them into the castle, Jon and Jhaqo just a step behind.

Jon struggled to keep with the Queen's pace, he was much taller than her and his long legs kept wanting to lead the group but out of respect he kept slowing and followed the petite queen.

Sansa had told him that under Baratheon rule the castle had been sparsley decorated, a few seldom banners and fancy baubbles hanging here or there. But back under a Targaryen it was as the history books described it. Massive dragon skulls mounted on the rafters and large swaths of cloth in Targaryen colors decorated the innards of the Red keep.

Summer was starting to stir in his arms and he placed him down. The direwolf shook himself awak and padded next to them. He was skinnier than Ghost still, Ghost may have been the runt but he had grown much larger than his siblings. But Summer was still massive and muscular too. He'd put any hound in King's Landing to shame.

"Did you dream of home, Summer?" Jon whispered to the direwolf.

Summer peered at him with intelligent yellow eyes, understanding what he was saying and longing for the North too.

"We're here for Bran," Jon comforted the direwolf's homesickness. That appeared to appease the wolf, Summer would do anything for Bran. He had killed a man for Bran, living south for a few years would be easy for the creature.

"Jhaqo you may go, check on the rest of the Khalasar and make sure they aren't causing trouble," The Queen directed her bloodrider. The Dothraki nodded and walked off, not worried for his queen in the slightest.

"Are we to wait for another guard before we proceed, your highness?" Jon asked, it was strange for a queen to walk around unattended. Especially after the recent assassination attempt. He told her so.

"I won't live my life in fear," She stoked Rhaego's silver scaled. "And I believe you to be an honest man, one who's loyal to the oaths he's taken. Even your celibacy one."

Jon quirked an eyebrow, "Your highness, I was speaking of the prisoners in the dungeons."

Quen Daenerys shook her head, "They're nothing more than ants in my eyes, I barely notice them. We'll be fine."

So it's test then, Jon realized. She thought him and his people were behing her assassination attempt and that he'd attempt to kill her in the dungeons if she was right. Sure she was correct on the first part but he had no reason to kill her for the time being. Attacking and enslaving the North like Bran had said, hadn't happened. Yet, being the operative word. If the Dragon Queen played her hand fairly so would he.

Her violet gaze was steel and he met it with obsidian fire of his own.

---

The Commander of the Night's Watch was a strange man. He spoke to his brother's pet direwolf. And even though he used the proper terms to address her like your highness or your majesty it wasn't sincere.

She had seen his wild gaze sweeping King's Landing, like a wolf thrown in a cage with a bunch of puppies. He was out of his element.

She'd exploit that.

"The dungeons are this way," She wanted to get to the dungeons already so she could go back up to her quarters and take a steaming bath, the wind had been frigid flying back. She needed warmth back in her skin again.

She led him down a winding stone staircase, he grabbed a large torch to light their way and after about fifteen minutes of climbing down the neverending stairs they made it to the dungeons.

The dungeons of the far east had been far more cruel, with spikes protruding from the walls waiting to gouge prisoners or rancid meat left nearby to taunt the prisoners. Her dungeons were fairly clean just a bit over crowded.

"These seem to be rather humane dungeons," Commander Snow commented as if reading her thoughts. His onyx eyes swept the dark room and the thousand beady little eyes that squinted back at them.

"I agree," She nodded.

"My sister Sansa stayed in the Eyrie for awhile, hiding from the Lannisters," He started, his fingers found the top of Summer's head and he pet his soft fur. "They have these dungeons called the Sky Cells, more like more shelves on the side of a flat moutain cliff, thousands of feet above the ground, almost too high up to still breathe, they only have three walls, the fourth apparently is open to the cold, oxygenless sky. They leave prisoners there for years and most end up jumping from the moutain to their death."

"I've heard of them," She nodded. "They're imfamous amongst the people of the East. If the east wasn't mountainless and flat I'm sure hundreds of replicas would've been made. What do you do as punishment at the Night's Watch."

"Beheading." He used the torch to light a few lamps before putting it out in a small pool of water that had leaked from the ceiling onto the cold stone floor.

"That's one way to solve a problem."

He shrugged at the Queen, "If a man gives up his second chance, he deserves nothing more."

"I completely agree," She led him over to a small office area and procured the prisoner manifest. It was a foot long piece of parchment that carried the names of all the prisoners, their crimes and their cell number, if they were to be executed there names were circled in red ink. "How long do you think it will take you to go over this and choose who you want to take?"

He glanced at the paper over her shoulder, his eyes struggling to avoid her cleavage, "Perhaps a day or two. I also hoped to visit my brother, if her highness doesn't mind."

She turned to look at him, "You know the way you keep saying her highness isn't exactly polite, it sounds more patronizing than anything and--"

"Shh," He shoved the queen against a stone wall and the breath was nearly knocked from her. His tall, lithe body was pressed up against hers. For being a man of winter, he sure was warm.

"How dare you! I will--" He placed a rough skinned hand over her mouth. Outraged, she bit him but he ignored it. His other hand went to his sword, Longclaw. He leaned down to whisper in her ear and his hot breath tickled her neck.

"The fourth cell down on the left his open, I think you've had a prison break," His warm breath was giving her shivers, a reaction she hadn't had to anyone since Drogo had died. She tried to ignore it, it was just a side effect of not having sex for so long. "If your prisoner manifest is correct, that cell happened to house a great number of rapists and murderers."

She grumbled in frustration more to herself than Jon Snow, "I still don't understand Jorah's logic of putting them all together."

"Perhaps to have them finish each other off," He shrugged again and jolted back. He must've realized how close his body was against hers. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, it was the most emotion she'd seen from him.

She shook her head, telling him she'd disregard it, "Where do you think they are?"

A flurry of green and bronze fire cascading down the hallways answered her question.

----

"Rhaegal!" The Queen ran into emerald flames and Jon nudged Summer back from the spitting cinders. He covered his face and ran off after the queen and was immediately burnt. He could feel his clothes melting and his skin blistering.

The fire blast had stopped and Jon sighed and dropped to his knees, in relief.

At the end of the hall was a small window, peaking out from the hill, giving the dungeon a tiny view of King's Landing. The green dragon, Rhaegal's head, was on the other side of it. On their side, four black charred corpses were melted to the bars on the window, one emaciated carcass was halfway through the bars, reaching for the unsuspecting people of King's Landing.

He stared for a long time, the last burnt body he'd seen was Melisandre's and there hadn't even been a body. Drogon had quickly burned her to ash, killing her swift and leaving no trace of her. Rhaegal had slow roasted these men. Jon almost felt badly, but he reminded himself they had been rapists and murderers. Rhaegal had done a good thing.

Queen Daenerys' back was to him, facing Rhaegal, her petite frame filled out her clothing quite nicely.
She stepped past the charred prisoners, through the bars and smoothed a creamy, unscathed hand on the dragon's massive head. The dragon closed it's eyes and leaned into her touch, just like Jon was starting to wish he could.

She finally turned back to him, her eyes went wide and she ran over, "You ran through the fire?"

He nodded.

"You imbecile, what made you think you'd be alright?" She berrated him.

"You can do it," He tried to explain but it just sounded stupid. He had just wanted to follow her and make sure she was alright. He was too much of a soldier, always looking to protect those around him. But she just wasn't another person around him, he was starting to grow exceedingly attracted to her, what he was feeling was dangerous. It had to stop.

"I'm a dragon." She explained.

There was no way she meant in a literal sense, she must mean like how he called himself a crow. Metaphor, simply metaphor and nothing more.

He nodded, his wounds were starting to hurt terribly.

She put her hands on his arms and he shrank back in pain, he'd be blistered.

"We need to get you to the citadel," She sighed, rolling her eyes. He was an idiot but still she was concerned for him. She helped him to her feet and helped him walk up the thousand-step staircase, ignoring the beady eyes of the emaciated prisoners crowded and crouched in their dank cells.

"I get to see Bran," The injured commander gave a slight smile. Dany looked back to make sure Bran Stark's direwolf was following them. Quiet as a shadow, he had been following them the whole time, it's eerie yellow eyes on the arm she had wrapped around the Commander.