This chapter has been edited due to content. I made minor edits in the chapter. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.
I wasn't the only one mourning for Khaleesi. Drogon and Rhaegal were flying in circles while letting out great cries of pain. Each cry spooked everyone but me. I allowed the pain to become a part of me as it let me understand that others were suffering the loss of our queen. I was standing on the edge of camp. We had made some distance from the pyre but hadn't been able to make it all the way to Winterfell. It didn't matter to me if I was out in the cold or in a bed. My resting place wouldn't change the fact that my love was gone.
Daenerys' children landed beside me. I took a few steps back as the dragons had never graced me with their presence like this before. I may have been a father figure to them, but the only connection I had with them was through their mother. After a few minutes I realized that they weren't going to attack me. Their eyes were able to show more sadness than I ever could.
They cried softly as if asking me to help them. As if asking me to relieve the great pain they now felt. I wished I had a way to make their pain go away. They were such amazing creatures that to see them so helpless made me fear. If they could feel such sadness, what hope was there for me to get over my own pain?
Drogon and Rhaegal put their heads extremely close to me. For a moment I thought this was the end. They would burn and eat me in retaliation for the death of their mother. That was a suitable fate for me as the part that didn't loathe Jon, hated me. After a few moments I realized that they weren't going to eat me. Instead it seemed as if they wanted me to pet them. This didn't make sense as I lacked Targaryen blood.
Before I could rethink my actions, I pet Drogon and then Rhaegal. Their skin was rough and strong. It wasn't exactly like a lizard's but extremely similar. Both of them made a deep purring sound like a sick dog. I chuckled at the insanity of the scene. A disgraced knight petting the symbol of House Targaryen. A House that would die off as Daenerys was gone.
"I'm sorry, she isn't coming back." I said. "I know I have been like a father to you, but there are limits to what I can do. My powers aren't infinite."
I reached under my armor and found the chain of my necklace. I lifted it up and allowed the dragons to see. The arrowhead had a small hole in the back in which the silver chain went through. If it didn't fill me with such shame I would have thought it beautiful. At least in a very simple way. Drogon sniffed it and then looked confused.
"This is my shame and my eternal regret." I told them. "I wasn't there when your mother died. If I had been, I could have saved her. Instead of being by her side I went to kill to calm my mind. It was foolish of me."
I put the necklace where it had originally been and wondered if they would ever have riders again. A part of me, a foolish part, imagined riding one of them. I wasn't a Targaryen and so I wouldn't ever be able to do so. Though there had been a few cases of non-dragonlords riding dragons. But even so, it wasn't for one such as me to ride the magnificent beasts.
"I can't bring Daenerys back." I repeated and they cried out loudly. "If it was in my power to do so, I would. There is nothing I wish to do with my life but serve her. That is the thing that has allowed me to continue living all this time. It is the thing that has given me purpose."
Rhaegal and Drogon both lay their heads on the ground and looked at me. It was a very similar look that a dog would give its owner. It was a look of pure helplessness that had innocence to it. In all honesty, innocence isn't what one usually thinks when one looks at a dragon. When a man looks at Drogon they see a creature that should be feared. Yet myself and my lost Khaleesi both looked at them with awe. They were dangerous, but controllable.
"I can't bring back your mother, but I can be your father." I said sadly. "She would want someone to watch over you. She might even trust me to do so. If she could trust me after I abandoned her."
Drogon let out a low roar that was meant to be reassuring. Even though I knew I was safe, there was something mildly frightening about feeling your entire body vibrate. I smiled for Drogon's sake and he nodded. Then both stood up to their fullest extent. They were beautiful and deadly. I wondered who had been the first person to ride a dragon. Had it been an accident? A lucky mistake?
Instead of flying, like I had expected, they walked toward the camp. Missandei would be making sure that the dragons didn't attack anyone. While Drogon and Rhaegal were good children, they were still dragons. They could still accidently hurt those they didn't mean to. Whether their action was what they saw as a game or a minor reprimand. Luckily there hadn't been any incidents. This was probably due to most people seeing them as mere monsters.
I turned as I saw Daenerys out of the corner of my eye. No, it wasn't her. She was dead and now only ashes. Her skin had been eaten up by flames and the arrowhead that killed her was now around my neck. It felt as if the arrow wanted to go through my heart and end my existence.
"Maybe House Targaryen isn't dead." Tyrion said and I turned to see him walking towards me.
"House Targaryen is dead since the passing of Daenerys Targaryen." I replied.
"I have always believed dragons to be magical. Indeed Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion have always amazed me. And yet now they've done something that no one expected."
Yes, they had done something no one expected. They always had treated Daenerys like their mother while everyone else had to keep their distance. The only exception was Tyrion who had taken their collars off both without being harmed. From how he had described that moment of stupidity, it had been more than frightening. It had shaken him to his core. He was not a stupid man and knew what the dragons could do if they so chose. To be at the mercy of one was enough to humble any man or woman.
"They were sad about their mother's passing." I replied. "She might have been their mother, but I am their father. She trusted me as they grew up and they know I still hold a place by her side."
"Oh, yes, how could I have ever thought otherwise!" Tyrion teased. "Dragons simply have to be in a state of grief for non-dragonlords to touch them! I must have accidentally skipped that book."
I glared at him and he laughed. A moment later I let out a soft whisper which was my version of a chuckle. He was a good friend. He, unlike others, could cheer me up from my self-loathing episodes. No matter how warranted they were. Tyrion was the only good Lannister that Westeros had. The only one that could be trusted.
"Did you come out here merely to make unfounded speculations about me having Targaryen blood?" I asked him.
"Unfortunately I didn't." Tyrion replied. "I would love to merely ask you to share wine with me, but there are other matters to attend to. With Daenerys dead it is uncertain what my position is. In the meantime I will be acting as the Hand."
I knew what was coming next. Tyrion was still focused on keeping the peace between Northerners and Dothraki. He was still focused on keeping peace between Jon's men and Daenerys' men. My outburst when Khaleesi had died would make some political dealings much harder. Those that were loyal enough to our dead queen might think to take up vengeance against Jon. Since I had come up with the idea, they would assume my way was right.
"I do not take back what I said." I told Tyrion. "But I still understand the political repercussions because of my actions. Even though I loathe to say it, I will support Jon Snow's claim if he ever wants it."
"I think want has no place in his decision." The Imp said dryly. "Jon is a very smart man, no matter where he came from, and he always does what is right for the people. If he sees claiming the Iron Throne as the only way to keep the peace, he will do that."
I was about to say that he was beyond noble, but I felt bile form in my mouth. While thoughts of his nobility could fill my mind, my mouth couldn't speak the words. My mouth was always stopped by the screams I had cried out when Daenerys had died. That moment would leave scars that could never heal. Nor did I want them to heal.
"That he will." I managed to say. "He is a lot like his father in that respect."
"You can't stay mad at him forever." Tyrion replied as he caught the anger in my voice.
"Forever might not be that long for either of us."
"Ah, yes, always the optimist."
I didn't understand what the Lannister was hinting at. There seemed to be some joy in his voice as if he had figured out a puzzle I didn't even know existed. That shouldn't bother me as much as it did. It shouldn't make me feel as if he could see into the deepest parts of me. At times like this I was reminded how good of a player of the great game he truly was. With all his joking he could still tell how to use a situation to his advantage. It would be a cruel trait if he wasn't a good person. As good as one could expect, at least.
"I have a fresh bottle of wine." Tyrion said and held up his hands when I looked at him. "This time I did not steal it from anyone. Jon gave it to me to help me with my grief. He is aware of how I cope with things."
"Wine is how you deal with any obstacle." I replied, raising one of my eyebrows.
He walked to his tent and I followed him. Drogon and Rhaegal looked at me briefly before turning back to Missandei. It was more than odd having Daenerys' children looking at me in such a fashion. They had shown interest in me before, but this time was different. Maybe it was our shared grief over Khaleesi's death or maybe there was something more. Though I highly doubted that I had any Targaryen blood. House Mormont and House Targaryen weren't ones to wed together.
Tyrion did the honors of opening the wine and pouring two glasses. It didn't pass my notice that his glass was considerably fuller than mine. It was a good thing I didn't care about wine as much as the Lannister did. There was doubt in my mind if I could win a fight against him if his wine was threatened.
"We've had a rough few days." Tyrion said. "I've had nightmares about her death. I can't imagine what dreams you've had."
"Sometimes I wake up in a sweat." I replied as I started to drink. "When I wake I sometimes think Daenerys is calling to me. I can't get back to sleep after that due to smelling her flesh burning."
"Daenerys is Unburnt no longer."
The dwarf said the statement with such sentimentality that I thought he was possessed. Tyrion had many different layers to him and it seemed I was privy to one of the most secret. He had loved her and now she was gone. She had given him more respect than he had ever thought possible. The Targaryen had given both of us new lives. Maybe I needed to go on living to show respect for my love. Maybe I shouldn't waste the new life she had given me. Or maybe I had already drank too much.
"No she isn't." I said sadly. "But at least she can no longer be used as a tool for the Night King. At least none of us will have to face her in battle."
"It wouldn't be love that stops me from killing her." Tyrion replied. "It's the fact that I am not a good fighter."
"That sounds like an excuse."
That brought a small smile onto Tyrion's face. Both of us were trying to add some brightness to the darkness that was trying to swallow us both. The darkness that smelled of burning flesh and tears. Salt and smoke making a mockery of our pain. I finished my first glass and the Lannister poured me a second. He poured himself his third glass.
"Maybe you could teach me." Tyrion said. "I'm sure that everyone will be in danger once the dead do break through."
"They have a dragon now." I replied as I gripped my cup tightly. "Viserion will be used to tear it down and allow the Night King to enter."
"I don't think the Night King will destroy all of the Wall. That would be too much even for him. I think he will break just enough so that his army can get through."
That would still allow all of the dead to enter Westeros. It might slow them down a little but not by much. A few seconds or minutes more didn't matter for the dead or living. It wouldn't take much time for the War for the Dawn to start. Castles would crumble and former friends would become twisted into foes. At least Daenerys would not suffer that fate. At least she had been spared that travesty.
"Unless he wants to make a point." I pointed out. "He might want to make us fear him more than we already do."
"If such an old creature will try to frighten the living, the spectacle will need to be something many can see." Tyrion argued. "Hearing that the Wall is torn down is much different from seeing it happen."
"So he'll leave survivors after destroying part of the Wall."
"Maybe I overestimated your dullness."
A small smile came onto my face. It was good I had Tyrion as a friend. A man that in one word could annoy you and in the next one show a rare form of genius. For a few hours more we talked before getting ready for the night. The next day we would reach Winterfell and I could sleep in a bed. Not that a bed would make me any happier.
After leaving Tyrion's tent I set to sharpening Longclaw. When I had last held the sword I was running away from execution. It would've been more honorable to have allowed myself to die. Yet if I had allowed myself to do what honor said was right, I would've never met Daenerys Targaryen. It was dishonorable that I had fled into exile but it had led to my redemption. At least part of my redemption.
I stopped my work and looked at my ancestral sword. I had done nothing to deserve it back. I had done nothing to prove to my cousin that I was worthy to be accepted back. I was still the man with a tainted soul. Not only had I sold people into slavery but I had let Khaleesi die. No, Jon let her die. My own hands were clean from that sin. He was the one to suggest going on the King's Road.
Yes, that thought calmed me down and allowed me to feel a momentary peace. Yet that peaceful thought was broken as I thought about Jon. He didn't force Daenerys to go on the King's Road. She could've easily said no. Tyrion and I had both told her not to go. She had made her own decision but my mind couldn't fully reconcile that fact. Even if Jon had been to blame, one mistake did not define a man. My life was proof of that. Thankfully the part of me that was logical faded off into silence and left me with my rage.
As I breathed a sigh of relief I heard movement in the camp. I didn't sheathe my sword and instead held it at the ready as I exited my tent. There wasn't a sign that men were ready for another attack, even a small skirmish. It looked more like they were looking for gossip. With a turn of my head I saw Grey Worm coming towards me and I sheathed Longclaw.
"You need to see this, Ser Jorah." He told me and so I followed.
With him in front of me I was able to go easily through the crowd. Finally we were at the edge of camp where the object of such attention stood. Jon, Davos, and Tyrion weren't around which meant I was supposed to be the diplomat.
"Ser Jaime Lannister," I said. "Why are you here?"
"I need to speak to Daenerys Targaryen." Jaime said urgently.
"That can't be done."
"I don't expect her to trust me, I've earned that from my deeds."
The words came up my throat but refused to exit my lips. Saying Daenerys was dead would make her absence even more real. Because of my duty I finally trusted myself not to stumble over the words.
"You misunderstand me," I told him. "Daenerys Targaryen is dead."
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