Of Whispers and Dragons

Dragonstone.

It wasn't anything like Raenerha had imagined for all those years, but it wasn't underwhelming, either. In fact, she didn't quite know how to feel about her ancestral home. It was a castle on an island. It was a beautiful landscape, but it didn't seem to hold as much value to her as it did her family. Is this what she'd been waiting for her whole life?

Her sister, however, seemed overjoyed to finally have taken it back - not that she showed it openly. But Raenerha knew. She saw the glow her sister possessed, she saw the fire in her eyes. Daenerys was the Queen the people needed, and now she was so much closer to being just that.

While most of their companions had began to ready the island for Danerys's rule, tearing down the Baratheon banners and burning them with dragon fire, Raenerha spent most of her time by the edge of the sea, thinking back on all those years that had led her back to this place. She had a collection of seashells in her chambers,some were large and some small, some were as white as snow while others seemed to shine like molten gold.

She rolled a new shell through her fingers as her thoughts wandered from one corner to the other.

She thought of the people who had tried to take advantage of her to the people who had gone out of their way to make sure she was safe, comfortable. Lord Varys had found his way back to her, but had spoke not a word to her since his arrival. It was strange, Raenerha thought, for someone to have gone so far out of their way to book passage and ensure her safety for so long and then simply ignore their very existence once they were face to face.

She was grateful to him, however, so she did not confront him. Had it not for him she'd still be in King's Landing, and most likely already executed. She simply let him be - spiders do enjoy their solitude.

Then, as easily as the waves lapped the shore, her mind turned to Jon Snow.

Raenerha felt her cheeks flush and this time it wasn't from the heat of the sun. He was a good man, Jon Snow, and in the little time she'd known him she felt drawn to him, maybe she even felt love for him. She wished that she could have spent more time with him. A lot more time. Unconsciously her hand came up to feel her lips, soft and brief like the kiss they'd shared beneath the hazy, cold sky that day.

The waves gently caressed her feet as she stood, her hair whipping around her face in the breeze. The hem of her thin, white dress was sopped with water, but she didn't care.

"It is wonderful, isn't it?" a voice came from behind her. "Maybe not as lavish as we're both used to, but it'll do."

Raenerha didn't turn but nodded anyway, letting her hand fall to hang by her side. "Yes, I believe it will serve us well."

The little lord, the Hand of the Queen, stepped forward to join her, his hands behind his back. "That is quite the understatement, I believe. With your sister ruling we will have people falling at our feet before long."

Raenerha smiled a bit and looked down at him. "How can I help you, Tyrion?"

The stunted man grinned kindly at her and offered her his hand. "Your sister requires your presence, my lady."

Raenerha gave the water one final glance before she hooked her arm with Tyrion's. The walk to the castle was quick enough. Raenerha and Tyrion basked in the silence, both in their own minds, simply listening to nature that surrounded them. The waves were crashing, the birds singing, the dragons roaring in freedom. It would have been quite peaceful, Raenerha thought, if there were someone she could share it with.

Finally they reached the throne room. The giant doors were opened to accommodate them. Soldiers lined the walls, all at the ready.

"Sister," Daenerys called from her throne. "Come stand beside me as we welcome a guest into our halls."

Raenerha raised an eyebrow slightly, her eyes searching the room for someone she didn't recognize. "I take it this person has yet to arrive?"

"You are correct," Daenerys said without looking at her. "It has come to my attention that we have yet to secure any allies in the North. Tyrion has been so kind as to send a request to their newest King. He is to come and bend the knee to us at any moment now."

Raenerha turned her head to look at Daenerys. "A King in the North? Are you going to allow such a thing, Daenerys?"

"We shall see."

Raenerha thought for a moment, her mind running in circles. "King in the North? The last King in the North was..."



The island could be seen from their distance. It was a looming thing, grey and gloomy. Jon could only imagine how it looked to an enemy - something that he hoped he wasn't going to end up being. It didn't take long for their little boat to reach the shores. He and his men clamored off the boat, thankful to be on dry land for a change.

He could hear the roaring of dragons and felt a ball of nerves develop in his stomach. Would they roast him? Had he made a mistake in coming here? Should he have listened to Sansa and stayed back? It didn't matter now, he realized as he saw a few Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers waiting for him. He also spotted a familiar face standing among them.

"Bastard," the man greeted him without a smile, but Jon could see the mirth in his eyes.

Jon almost smirked. "Dwarf."

"We've been waiting for you," Tyirion Lannister told him as he stepped forward. "But first..."

An unsullied soldier came closer to them, his hand held out. "Weapons."

Jon raised his eyebrow at Tyirion. "I am to surrender myself completely to your mercy, then? How do I know you won't kill me on the spot?"

"Come now, you know me better." Tyrion winced slightly, and gave a small shake of his head. "You must, Jon Snow. Know that no harm will come to you or your companions while you're here. You have my word."

"I'd rather have my head than you word," Jon said back. "But I will comply. We need allies in the war to come, and I will not let my pride come before my people."

Tyrion nodded and nodded toward the castle. "Let's be on our way, then."

The throne room was large and uninviting. It was cold, maybe even as cold as Winterfell's own. Jon could hear voices inside, just behind the large doors. He strained his ears to get a quick listen - to see if he had come at a good time or not.

"This way, gentlemen," Tyrion said quietly, guiding them into the room.

Inside stood three women surrounded by what seemed to be a legion of soldiers. Two were at the head of the room, one sitting and the other standing beside her. The other girl, not of fair hair, stood before them, ready to greet the guests.

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, The Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains." The dark haired woman began to spout without thinking of the words she had to say.

Jon's eyes stayed forward, not believing who he was seeing.



Raenerha was frozen when she saw the man that stood before them, clad in black, but not as much as when she last saw him. His hair was pulled to the back of his head and he looked older. He had a scar on his face that hadn't been there before, but he was still just as handsome, if not more handsome than when he was at Castle Black.

"This is-"

Raenerha stepped forward, cutting off the old man that had accompanied Jon into the throne room. "Jon."

"Rae," Jon whispered in shock. "You're here?"

Raenerha nodded and smiled at him. "And you're the King in the North? You made it back to your family too, then? Just like you wanted?"

"Dear Sister," Daenerys interrupted from behind them. "The time for reminiscing will come later."

"Of course," Raenerha said quietly, taking her place at her sister's side once more.

The meeting was long and consisted of bickering between the Queen and King. Jon spoke of fairy tale creatures that threatened to take over the land and Daenerys dismissed them with a sneer. Jon, in turn, refused to bend the knee. Raenerha had thought to step in once and demand them to act like adults but she refrained. She knew the wrath of the dragon, and she didn't want to have it turned upon her. Instead she simply waited.

Daenerys demanded that Jon and his company stay on Dragonstone, then, until they were able to reach an agreement. Something Jon was not very inclined to do. The Queen dismissed them and Jon went out to get some air.

Raenerha followed him, jumping at the chance to speak with him again, this time away from prying eyes.

"Jon," she said, her legs taking longer strides that usual. "Jon, wait!"

Jon stopped and waited for her to catch him, but did not turn to face her. "It seems I'm your sister's prisoner now."

"Only until you give her what she wants," Raenerha mumbled. "Jon, if what you said is true... if those things are real then is it truly wise to wait any longer than necessary to face them? Bend the knee, gain my sister's trust, and then she will help you."

"My people chose me to lead them," Jon said hotly, his eyes wide. "They chose me. I did not ask for this. What kind of King would I be if I let them down? What kind of man would that make me?"

Raenerha grasped his hand in hers, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. Jon stared into her eyes, his words dying on his lips.

"It would make you a smart man," Raenerha told him. "It would make you a King for the right reasons! Not for riches or whores or glory, but for the good of your people. Jon, you are more of a man than any King or Usurper that has ever lived. I know that. Prove it to Daenerys and her soldiers and they will help you."

"You're right." Jon hung his head, but kept her hand in his larger one. "Damn it all, you're right."

Raenerha smiled. "I never said I wanted to be. I know you have your Stark honor and how much it means to you, but -"

Jon pulled her by her hand against him and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. His other hand found the back of her head and knotted itself into her hair. Raenerha pressed her chest against him harder, her arms going around his neck, returning the kiss with just as much passion and fever. Jon softened the kiss and broke it into a series of quick, soft pecks against her lips. Their breaths left them quickly in short puffs, and they sported a pair of matching grins.

"I've wanted to do that since you left," Jon breathed, his fingers tracing her jawline. "I've missed you, Raenerha Targaryen."

Raenerha smiled and rubbed her fingers along the back of his neck. "And I you, Jon Snow."



Upon the balcony overlooking the sea Daenerys stood watching. Her full lips pulled down into a frown.

"And what shall I do now, Lord Tyrion?"

Tyrion looked at her with a raised brow. "What do you mean?"

"If there comes a time that Jon Snow is labeled a traitor to the crown and I have to execute him... Raenerha will never forgive me."

Tyrion sighed. "It will not come to that, my Queen."

Daenerys sighed and turned to walk away. "I hope you're right."