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.
Kings Jon Stark and Jorah Mormont,
Jon Stark has more than proved himself to me. The first time he appeared to me he was pleading for help. How could anyone not help House Stark at their greatest time of need? Since that day Jon has never revealed to me that he was unworthy of any title. The fact that Targaryen blood runs through his veins matters little to me as his Stark blood is much stronger.
It has taken me awhile to think about my cousin's actions and if he should be forgiven for them. The only reason I am forgiving Jorah is because Jon has chosen him. I trust Lyanna's son more than myself at this moment in time. I pray I haven't made the wrong decision.
Lady Lyanna Mormont
The fierce winter air tried to rip my cousin's letter from my hand. I pulled the letter close to me and put it back in its place. Once it was secured on my hip, my attention was focused to the training field. Dothraki, Unsullied, and Westerosi all gathered together. Over the last few days we had learned from each other. If we learned to incorporate each other's abilities into our own then we might have a chance against the dead.
I turned my head when a Dothraki yelled out over his fallen opponent. The Northern woman looked somewhat battered but she hadn't accepted defeat. Not yet. The Dothraki smiled once she continued to fight him. I understood why he found this sight so amusing. In his culture women were mere servants that didn't fight. Khaleesi, the most high ranking Dothraki women, weren't fighters. Their power came from their Khals. It was lucky that Drogo had actually loved Daenerys.
As I was a king, I feigned paying attention to the sparring taking place before me. It wouldn't do for others to see me as laxing in my duties. The reign of Jon needed to appear strong in every respect so the truth would be taken easier. In just a few hours Jaehaerys Targaryen would be revealed. It wouldn't do for our men to point to my lack of attention at that time.
The woman fell down again and I realized now was the time for action. Again she had made the same mistake. Dothraki were notorious for not fighting like Westerosi. She always paused at a time that would keep her safe from any of her fellow Northerners. The Dothraki backed away once I walked towards them. I could tell he wanted to test himself against me. Maybe later.
"Is he a Northerner?" I asked after helping the woman up. "Does he look like he belongs here? "
"No, Your Grace." She said and barely met my gaze.
"Your maneuvers would work against any from the North. But to win against a Dothraki you need to learn other ways to fight."
"And how many Dothraki have you fought?"
"I will make sure to give you chores that will last the night."
The woman looked away in shame. She knew she had messed up but I couldn't afford pity right now. We had to be at our strongest once we fought the dead. If there was disrespect amongst the troop then it would be possible for orders to be disobeyed on a whim. Even though the woman was frustrated, she would either learn or die. There was no other set of options for a soldier.
"It takes time to learn to fight the Dothraki." I said. "But it can be done."
I signaled for the woman to step back as I faced the Dothraki. Depending on how this man had learned, he could be extremely dangerous. He seemed to be extremely comfortable on the snow to the point I wondered if it was sand. Some, like him, had adapted very well to life beyond Essos. If he won this fight then the woman could mock me. I didn't need more complaints from her.
The Dothraki moved swiftly towards me. It was as though he was a bear instead of a man. Luckily I had fought both in my lifetime. Our swords clashed with the sound of a dragon's roar. This happened time and time again. Both of us looking for the perfect opening. Both of us making that near impossible for the other.
I saw my moment which would make this sparring session end quickly. The problem was that it would allow the Dothraki an opening just as good. There was only a few more seconds to make a decision. I had been sparring throughout the day and the man had much more stamina than I did. With a quick prayer to the gods, I made my move.
"Graddakh!" The Dothraki exclaimed.
He had reacted only a moment too slow. It had been the slightest of mistakes that I had used to my advantage. The Dothraki held his arm at an odd angle which showed me it was bruised. It was only his pride that kept him holding his weapon. He hadn't fallen down but his posture showed I had won the fight.
"You can defeat him." I told the woman. "All it takes is practice."
"And if I can't?" She replied.
"There is always the chance the dead don't fight like Dothraki."
Her eyes asked a question but she held back. I had fought the dead as had my husband. They hadn't fought like any kind of men I had encountered. They were a force that destroyed anything in their path. They felt no fear, only the need to destroy. Maybe the White Walkers did have feelings. At least more so than the wights.
If she had been polite before I wouldn't have given her a sarcastic answer. I would've said that the flexibility of the Dothraki was needed to fight the dead. Like the dead, the horselords had a ferocity in them that defied reason. Maybe, at the end, it would be the Dothraki that saved the living.
* * *
Again I was seated by Jon in the Great Hall. Unlike before, the room was filled to the brim. Everyone that could be here was here. Those that couldn't be were standing right outside the doors. Sansa had a stern expression on her face while Ghost paroled the room. If anything went wrong, the direwolf would be one of the first to react.
"Lord Eddard Stark raised me as his own." Jon began with no fear in his voice. "He told me I was his son and a bastard. My whole life I've gained respect despite my status. I have gained the respect of many despite my birth. My father lied to me in an attempt to protect me."
There was silence in the Great Hall as most were shocked. It took great strength to keep my hands on my chair. Brienne of Tarth, Bronn, and Ghost would be the first to react to any attacks. There was no need for the royal family to show any signs of distress. Jon glanced at me briefly to calm himself down.
"I have Stark blood in my veins, but it is not from Eddard." Jon said and his voice broke only for a moment. "My father is Rhaegar Targaryen and my mother is Lyanna Stark. My real name is Jaehaerys Targaryen. Samwell Tarly, Bran Stark, and Howland Reed all confirmed this. The truth of my heritage does not change who I am nor does it affect my loyalties."
Unlike the silence from before, this was a loud silence. Though no one spoke, it was as if they were yelling out. Expressions went from shocked to angry. Only a few remained nonchalant. Though those few could be hiding dissent so their rebellion would be successful. Once the silence ended there was shouting. Some stood up and pointed at Jon and myself.
"You lied to us!" An older man yelled. "We trusted you!"
"Jon Stark did not know!" I yelled back. "None of us did! We had multiple people confirm before we believed anything!"
"This Targaryen rode a dragon and we are to believe you had no knowledge of his heritage?" A young woman sneered.
"At the time, we had suspicions about my heritage." Jon replied calmly. "I had even accepted who I was. But it wasn't until Howland confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I decided to make the truth known. Unlike Bran whose greensight can't be used as evidence and Samwell who merely found records, Howland was by the Tower of Joy when Lyanna died."
It took many minutes for the Great Hall to become silent again. Even when there was no talking, the anger was more than noticeable. Davos shared a brief look at me and I nodded. After everyone had let out their shock, there were more people that seemed to be calmed. More people that understood Jon had not changed because of his true name. Yet not enough people had come to that realization. With a few deep breaths I was able to calm myself down.
"Have you all forgotten what Jon Stark has done?" Davos asked angrily. "Is him being a Targaryen enough to undo all that he has done? It is him who won back Winterfell from the Boltons. It is him who gained valuable allies in the Wildlings. It is him who risked everything to get the resources we need to fight this war. Is everything undone because he has Targaryen blood in his veins?"
"How can we trust the Wildlings?" One young girl asked. "And the Dothraki are even stranger."
"Fighting the Night Khal is what our Khaleesi believed in." A Dothraki nearly hissed in reply. "We will kill him and make her proud."
The man had taken time to say each word. The common tongue was hard for him and yet he was learning quickly. Soon he might speak the language as well as any person from Westeros. His reply had surprised the child and caused her to shake. Her mother, on the other hand, seemed to be convinced. At least for the moment. After the war she and others might have questions.
"We all have a common enemy." Jon said. "The true enemy is the Night King. Bickering wastes time and makes our death more certain. I have never believed myself to be anything other than a Stark and that does not change now. I may ride a dragon and have Targaryen blood, but I will always consider myself a Stark."
A portion of the people in the Great Hall started to cheer. Us Northerners were hard to move as we liked tradition. The North did not forget and old rivalries could be in our minds for generations. It was not easy to forget how Aegon Targaryen had forced the North into servitude. Maybe in time my kin could learn to accept House Targaryen. Or maybe they would always be stubborn on the matter.
"And what happens when the common enemy goes away?" A man asked.
"We will deal with the future when it comes." Arya replied. "Just because the dead are defeated doesn't mean Westeros will erupt into chaos. Your fears are foolish."
I saw Jon do his best to refrain from smiling. His younger sister was volatile and didn't understand how to fight in a political arena. The fact she was trying meant she wanted to participate. She wanted to defend her home in anyway she could. Even in an arena she was unfamiliar with.
Her response had made the man go silent. Either he was shocked by Arya's response or he knew she was right. The way she stared at him until he looked away, made me think she wanted a fight. Maybe it was easier for her to fight physical battles instead of political ones.
The Great Hall was silent yet again. And again the room seemed to be quickly gathering supporters for Jon. Those who were still angry opened their mouths and shut them without saying a word. They must be trying to think up arguments that would discredit Jon and myself.
"What about Jorah Mormont?" An old man asked. "Isn't he the one who sold people into slavery and then fled into exile? Isn't he the same Jorah that shamed his House?"
"Lady Lyanna Mormont forgave me for my crimes." I replied calmly. "The only reason she did so was because she trusts Jon. It doesn't matter to her that he is a Targaryen as Stark blood flows strongly in his veins."
"And you might need to remember people change." Tyrion said coming to my defense. "The Jorah that fled into exile isn't the same one in front of you. He has more than earned redemption. The trials and tribulations he experienced in Essos helped him become stronger. The Jorah who fled into exile I wouldn't trust to be king. But that Jorah isn't the one before you."
Arya looked at the old man and there was a coldness in her eyes. She looked like a direwolf, a dragon, and every other ferocious wild creature. Of course people being more concerned with politics than survival would annoy her. There was a deadly enemy yet everyone was more worried if the wrong kind of blood was in someone's veins. Gendry looked at her and she instantly calmed down. Though the coldness still remained in her eyes.
Gendry looked more than tired from forging weapons. Bran had managed to find suggestions on how to make Valyrian steel. But the process had been long and hard. Due to the urgency, he had hardly had a moment's break from work. Yet he managed with the help of Arya. It seemed that the Stark girl helped keep the Baratheon bastard stable.
"Jorah is Azor Ahai Reborn." Davos said and seemed to regret the words after saying them. "I do not believe in prophecies but he has proof to back the claims up. He might be the only thing that can save us in the end."
"Have you all forgotten how Jon took back Winterfell?" Sansa asked in a soft but harsh tone. "Why did you not bend the knee when that was mentioned? No one but a Stark should rule Winterfell. Someone of the late House Bolton doesn't deserve it. They are too cruel and belong in Essos more than Westeros. Ramsay Bolton raped me and once I bore his child, I would've been killed. Even when he needed a child from me, he would treat me so cruelly that I might have died. It was Theon Greyjoy that helped me escape and Jon Stark who let me get vengeance. So why doesn't the mere mention of him taking back Winterfell make you see reason?"
Sansa hadn't wanted to reveal the truth about Jon's heritage. Yet here she was recounting the story of her abuse. It was hard for her as the slight tremor of her hands revealed. Around the room those who hadn't liked the truth about Jon were quickly coming around to his side. The story about her betrayal by Littlefinger and Jon's rescue of her were well known. Though the exact details were reserved for certain people.
"You are Jaehaerys Targaryen." A man said and looked at Jon. "You are not Eddard Stark's son but Rhaegar Targaryen's. Excuse us for our apparent dissent. We are only shocked at the truth as you must have been. I will never lay a hand against you."
After he spoke a chant of 'Jaehaerys Targaryen' and 'the True King' echoed throughout the Great Hall. Everyone was on Jon's side no matter the truth of his heritage. I felt relaxed and saw my love nearly collapse into his chair. The stress had exhausted both of us. Only Sansa still had the same expression on her face and I understood why. This had been a risky move and this meeting could've turned out very differently.
Every time Jaehaerys was uttered Jon would grimace. It was slight but it was there. He was a Stark of Winterfell and to hear his Targaryen name uttered could drive him mad at this moment. Tyrion didn't seem apt to stop the chanting as it was a good political move to let it continue. He probably also found some amusement in it. But I didn't want Jon to be tormented longer than he had to.
I stood up and the room quieted. There was no face in the room that wished harm unto Jon. That was good. The chant had gone on long enough to cement good feelings toward my love. The words I uttered would have to continue with the proud atmosphere in the room.
"Your kings are proud to have you in our service." I said. "But Jon Stark will always be Jon Stark. The fires of Old Valyria burn deep into his veins but it isn't the roar of a dragon that comes from his mouth. It is the howling of a wolf! And that is what it will always be!"
A new round of cheering started and Jon nodded his head. He was grateful and most likely hoped that no one would call him Jaehaerys ever again. As the cheering continued everyone bent their knee to Jon and Ghost walked back to him. The first true battle of our reign had ended in a victory. He had kept the hearts of his people securely inside of him. There might be betrayals but not for a very long time.
Betrayals always happened and one had to learn not to see enemies in shadows. To distinguish an enemy from fear. If a man failed to learn that lesson then he would be driven into madness. That was what had happened to the Mad King. Jon had good guidance and the willingness to learn. He could accept that he wasn't always right.
Where was Jaime Lannister? If he failed in his mission to kill Cersei the war would become much harder. She had lost her ally of Euron Greyjoy but she would find new allies. The cruelty around her made some fear and others trust. But those were thoughts for later as this moment demanded to be enjoyed.
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