34 Targaryen Empire

Nothing but the low firelight and a few scattered candles illuminating the room, Jon watched as Ser Barristan Selmy shivered under his cloak. "Cold, Ser Barristan?" he asked with an amused grin - the grin northerners only directed at unacclimated southerners.

Barristan rubbed his hands together. "Too used to the heat of Essos, your Grace." The two of them were alone in Jon's quarters, Barristan providing needed company prior to the meeting. Glancing down, he smiled slightly as Jon slowly slid the whetstone down Longclaw's edge. "Your father always had a saying, take keep of your belongings and your belongings will take keep of you."

"That is wise." Jon gently ran his finger down the Valyrian steel edge - sharp and deadly. "When Joffrey was at Winterfell, his sword was always dull and splotched. Bodes well for me, I would think."

"Yes, your Grace. Baratheon fighting skill did not find its way to him." Barristan detected the weariness in his King's voice. "You do not wish to fight, do you?"

Jon sighed. "I detest fighting. It seems such is all I've done throughout my life, but nothing fills me with joy more than thinking of peace with Daenerys by my side. I would give up my birthright in a heartbeat for that."

"Your father thought the same way." A wistful smile crossed his face. "Oftentimes, he and I would sneak out in disguise to Flea Bottom. He'd play his harp for the smallfolk - I had never seen him so serene, though he did say that it wasn't complete until he could bring his love to sing with him. Something told me that he didn't mean Elia Martell."

"He was a cultured man, my father?" Jon wanted to learn everything about the enigmatic Rhaegar Targaryen.

"Oh yes." Watching as Jon sheathed his sword, the old knight enjoyed the fond memories. "He would often bring the best painters, sculptors, and architects to the capitol. Wanted to devote his reign to turn a nation of stone into marble, but the Rebellion got in the way."

"I hope that I could complete his dream." Closing his eyes, Jon remembered the silver-haired man in the garden of the afterlife. His strength and love shining through. 'Father…' "I met him… my father."

Ser Barristan blinked, confused. "How, your Grace?" After seeing dragons ascend to the skies, giants walk amongst the North, and the long lost son of his beloved Prince, the old knight disbelieved nothing anymore.

"When I... died and was resurrected." He saw Barristan nod wordlessly - his kingsguard had seen the scars, one of a few that did. "My mother too. All my life I thought he was nothing but some monster, but he was my…" Jon wished he had known him, had grown in the Red Keep not for any trappings of royalty, but simply for his mother and father in his life. 'Dany and I would still be together. I know this.'

Suddenly, he began to chuckle. Barristan raised an eyebrow. "Something humorous, your Grace?"

"Tell me something, Ser Barristan. Did you ever know a man named Alliser Thorne?"

Pursing his lips, the old knight searched his brain. "The name is familiar. I seem to recall a young and idealistic knight in the ranks, marching to battle at the Trident. Why?"

"He was a brother of the Night's Watch when I met him, older and bitter - hated me for being Ned Stark's son. Ended up stabbing me in the heart for bringing the Wildlings south of the Wall." Another chuckle left his lips, mindlessly patting the scar on his chest. "Ironic, if he had known who I was…"

"I would have killed him myself had I been there, your Grace. Not even hate for the Usurper could condone murdering your own commander." He patted his old ward's son on the shoulder. "Your father would have been very proud of you, proud of your honor. He always admired that of the Starks - it doesn't shock me that he fell for the She-wolf." A knocking at the door drew his attention, Jon hearing him walk towards the entrance and opening it. "Lady Arya."

"May I enter, Ser Barristan?" 'My sister.' Jon really needed to develop a system to differentiate his daughter and his sister. "May I speak with Jon, alone?"

"Wait outside, Ser Barristan. This won't be long."

"Of course, your Grace." It was just the two of them, now.

Needle still clipped to her side, Arya stood straight as a knight. "Brother."

Jon hid his smirk. "Wouldn't 'cousin' be more accurate?" He expected the fist that slammed into his shoulder.

"Shut up." She hadn't taken the news well at all, but managed to tolerate the change once it became clear no actual status changed. "You're my brother, and damn nothing will change that no matter how much of an ass you are… my King," she cheekily added for good measure.

"If you want me to call you 'sister,' then no formal shit with me. I'm proud to be 'Jon' to you." Grinning, Jon gave his little sister a once over. 'Not the same little sister anymore.' While the same loving and wild Arya shined when alone among the family, everywhere else was replaced with a completely different person. Hardened, haunted, dead - a living White Walker. It chilled him to the core. "You've changed since the last time."

"So have you, Jaehaerys." She cast her eyes at the lilac dragon rousing from her sleep on Jon's bed. "Of all that I imagined you doing, riding a grown dragon and raising three infant dragons were not among them." Walking over to the bed, Arya cautiously reached out to scratch the underside of the dragon's jaw. Wearily inspecting the offered hand, Rhaella snapped her jaws once before letting out a contented hum as Arya's fingers stroked her. "She likes me."

"She is my daughter, and she knows who her family is." Dragons were very intelligent, and his were raised among wolves to be used to them. Just as Ghost was drawn to Dany, even her dragons were docile to the Starks. They often fell asleep on Ghost's back or curled up on his siblings' stomachs to keep warm. "Once you learn caution, they're like Ghost and Nymeria when they were pups."

Nuzzling her hand, Rhaella yawned and flapped off to the rafters. "You named her after your grandmother… and the others after Aunt Lyanna and Sansa." Arya watched as Jon nodded. "And Daenerys named your daughter after me." She didn't know which had been more of a surprise, learning Jon had children with the Dragon Queen or learning one of the little dragonwolves that had immediately taken to her like a fish to water was her namesake.

"I can only imagine that Daenerys wanted to have one of our twins to have a northern name, and chose one so near and dear to me." He couldn't help but smile at her looking away, lip quivering. She didn't seem as hardened as she portrayed herself to be. "Sansa is already training her to be a powerful lady, but I can see her looking at Robb and Rhaegar's swordsmanship lessons longingly - reminds me of someone." Jon laughed as Arya curtseyed with a smirk. "Now I wouldn't want to put my daughter in danger fighting a man…"

"Oh please, I could take you on any time," she mocked.

"I may have to take you up on that. Would you teach Arya how to… water dance as you call it?" He could just imagine how his daughter's eyes would sparkle in joy if he delivered her aunt as an instructor.

Smiling, Arya nodded. "It would be my honor." Something came to her mind. "Jon… about Gendry."

"You love him, don't you?" Jon's jaw set, leaning forward.

"Yes." She wasn't sure how he would react to the truth. "He's the bastard of Robert Baratheon."

This was not something he expected. "You're saying he is the son of the Usurper. The man that had my half-siblings murdered and would have personally killed Daenerys and myself had he been given the chance?"

Arya glared at him. "I thought you of all people would understand."

Hearing her biting words, Jon did understand. His anger at the loss of his Targaryen family and Daenerys' dangerous childhood did not extend to poor Gendry Waters - he had no control over it. Those that were at fault were either dead or south in Joffrey's kingdom. "I trust King Robert wasn't as honorable as father was with his 'bastard.'"

"Gendry didn't even know until he heard a goldcloak brag."

One eyebrow rose. "Do I need to have a conversation with this Gendry? Make sure he knows the fate of those that harm my family… owww!" He felt another twinge of pain in his shoulder.

Hitting him again for good measure, Arya rolled her eyes. "You deserved that, Jon. Don't you dare do that, I can take care of myself." She patted Needle for good measure before her gaze softened. "Besides, he would never hurt me." The 'Wild wolf' bit her lip, wondering how all her experiences and training abandoned her and left a nervous and frightened girl in front of her brother. "He wants my hand, but only if you would agree." It happened the night when they arrived at Winterfell, the moment still surreal to Arya. "I love you brother, and also want your blessing." He hadn't said anything, face impassive as ice. "Jon, please say something."

Pursing his lips, Dany had told him that this was inevitable after one day. "I still can't help seeing you as that little girl who couldn't get Nymeria to fetch her gloves." Chuckling at the memory, he looked up at her. "We will have to legitimize him, for a Stark cannot marry a commoner." It took a moment, but suddenly Arya's face lit up. She threw herself into Jon's arms. For once, girlish speak and mannerisms tumbled from her lips in enthusiastic gratitude. "But, he will have to prove himself to me before I make it official."

Arya laughed. "Of course, but your sister will always know how soft you are, my King." At that moment Rhaella fluttered her wings and landed on Arya's shoulder, chirping. "Isn't your father a softie?" The dragon chirped once more.

The howling winds had obscured nearly all traces of sunlight. Winter claimed the majestic northern lands underneath its freezing shroud. For Daenerys, it was an inauspicious omen. To a Dragon of Valyria such was inhospitable - the cold seeped to her very bones, Dany lacking the dragonfire of her non-human children to at least keep an ounce of comfort.

'The north nearly claimed Aegon the Conqueror. Will another dragon fall to it?'

"You forget, my Queen, that Jon Snow withstood the north's full fury, not only emerging in triumph but also as its leader."

Shocked slightly at the sudden voice, Dany hadn't noticed the steps of the Red Witch through the wails of the northern blizzard. 'Did I speak out loud?' "Jon isn't the leader of the northmen yet." She looked out at the snow-covered fields. "And if the omens indicate anything, he may never be."

The northern winter was more inhospitable for Melisandre than even Daenerys. Red locks and sharp features pure fire, the priestess of R'hllor nevertheless looked to be in her element. "You should have faith, my Queen. The history of your homeland easily provides a solution, apparent even a political ameteur such as myself."

It was almost divine providence to Dany, for the solution to be found out of her history. Her people. She still remembered as Sam explained it all to her. Centuries before the Doom of Valyria and even the Valyrian Freehold, the King began the expansion of his realm. The first conquests were the Ghiscari, but they rebelled at every opportunity. Finally, the conquering King's son made a change. He created what he called an 'Empire,' where the Ghiscaris were able to rule themselves but with him as their King. All Ghiscari internal affairs were governed by Ghiscaris, but the 'Emperor' of Valyria still maintained control to unite all domains of his realm. She hoped, she prayed that the northern Lords would accept this arraignment.

"Do you know," Melisandre said in the silence, "the prophecy of the Prince that was Promised?" Dany nodded. "The proper High Valyrian word is genderless, but after talking to your translator, I also think that there could have been a mistranslation." This drew Dany's attention, the Red Woman blurred by the snow. "The prophecy was originally spoken in a far more ancient Valyrian dialect - one where pluralities were often the same as the singular. Not only genderless, but lacking in singularity as well." She placed her fingers onto the cold stone. "I may not know the future, Daenerys Targaryen, but I do know that you and Jon Snow are not yet to fade into the night." The words hung, Dany parsing through their deep meaning.

A throat clearing caught her attention, Dany turning to find Missandei waiting for them. "My Queen, they are ready for you." Even with her official facade, Daenerys noticed the extra sparkle in her eye now that Grey Worm was back.

'Oh Jon, at least I'll be by your side this time.' The many times she wished for his presence during the struggles of her life, merely to lift her spirits, both scared her and filled her with joy that he would always be there from now on. 'Ice and fire.' Both different, but at the purest forms, stronger together. "I am as well. Lead the way."

Pulling the furs tighter around his body, Jon glanced at the roaring fires set by the servants. Unlike the grand castles of the South, Winterfell had the sturdy Northern design meant to keep any heat within its thick walls. Still, it took his entire willpower and experience north of the Wall to keep from shivering.

He sat at the head of the table, occupied by his father during the feast so long before - the place of honor. To his left sat Sansa while Rickon sat to her left - Brienne and Podrick behind. To his right the fourth chair between himself and Robb and Arya remained empty, a fact that seemed to go over the head of most of the bickering lords and knights in the great hall, but one that perceptive eyes such as Lyanna Mormont and Tyene Martell appeared to notice. By the barely suppressed smirk on Sansa's face and the more open ones on Arya and Robb's, they had an inkling as to who Jon had reserved it for.

A worried frown formed on his face when the Red Woman slipped through the main door, quietly finding a dark alcove to settle down in. 'Where is she?' was the delay an acceptable one or was there trouble afoot? "Do I have to worry?" Jon remarked softly, to no one in particular.

"Calm down, brother," Sansa told him, equally soft but with a stern undercurrent. "Don't work yourself into a rage. She'll be here." Both siblings turned back to the assembled guests. Even the massive great hall struggled to fit everyone. Tormund and the chiefs of the free folk clans, joined by the Knights of Vale and the Vale hill tribes. Each of the northern houses - minus the now extinct House Bolton - from the mighty Manderlys to the small coastal houses southwest of the Gift. Lady Catelyn headed the houses of the Riverlands, only a third of them joining the Stark cause. Rounding out the Westerosi were the Tyrells, Tyene Martell, Theodosius Caryn, and Sam Tarly. The fourth table hosted the Dothraki screamers, Unsullied captains, and minor Ghiscari nobility that had traveled with Dany from Meereen. Sitting at the head of that table were Varys and Grey Worm, Tyrion's place noticeably empty.

Before the delay grew unbearable, the doors at the far end swung open, two newly-raised Stark bannermen holding them in place. The entire hall quiet, Jon's eyes sparkling with happiness at. Missandei and Tyrion to either side of her and Ser Jorah behind, Daenerys looked radiant. The chaffron dress and eggshell furs only amplified her pale beauty. She looked every inch a queen, his queen - but had a sort of subdued quality among the northern lords, regally recognizing that this was their domain. It warmed Jon's heart to see how she cared so much.

Whispered murmurings broke out among the lords when Daenerys headed for the Stark table. Tyrion sat next to Grey Worm, fending off glares from Theodosius and the Northerners. Jorah, finally at home among his fellow northerners, took a seat with Lady Lyanna - The last of the Mormonts. Missandei standing behind, Dany approached the empty place to Jon's right. Catching his siblings greeting her with warm glances, Jon reached back and pulled out the sturdy wood chair for Dany to take. As both sat, she shot him a quick smile. The simple glimmer of love in her violet eyes banished the cold from his body.

They symbolism was evident for all. One that Jon, Robb, Arya, and Sansa all agreed to risk. Daenerys Targaryen was considered not as a visiting lord, but as family. One of the Starks.

"Now that all are present," Sansa said, her voice steeled. "We can begin." She stood, no more an innocent maiden. "All of you old enough to know the year of my birth, or the years far before Robert's Rebellion, remember when the Realm was at peace. Such is lacking now with the threats to all sides of us. My brother, Jon Snow of House Stark, asks for your audience to face this common threat together." It was northern custom, for someone of great respect to present the liege lord. Jon could think of no one more deserving than Sansa for that role.

Pushing up from his chair, Jon nodded at his sister. "Thank you, Lady Stark." Daenerys could see his eyes weary. Humility wasn't the hallmark of the dragon, but perhaps the Targaryens could have benefited with a little wolf in them. "I come to all of you with an open mind. To listen to your concerns - but I stress that in the face of what's to come, unity is desired above all."

It was Lord Glover that addressed the mammoth in the room. "Lord Snow, do you know who this is?" He pointed at Dany, glare hard as stone. "I find it inappropriate that the Mad King's daughter is allowed in an assembly of the north."

Restraining his temptation to shout in anger, Jon heard Dany softly sigh next to him. However, it was Sansa that spoke up first. "If there is anyone that belongs here, it is Queen Daenerys."

"Quite true," added Robb. "It was thanks to her that Ramsay Bolton and the Mad Prince were defeated. We owe her our thanks."

"Thanks for what?" demanded Lord Cerwyn. "Her father burning your grandfather and uncle alive? Her brother doing the same thing to those who wouldn't bend the knee to him?" A low chorus of agreement came from many, causing the three Starks to shoot her an apologetic glance. Daenerys merely sat there, taking the abuse. She was a queen, the Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains - she'd been through worse.

To Jon's left stood Lord Yohn Royce of the Vale. "I must agree with my honorable comrades. We rose against the Mad King for a reason, the Targaryens long the enemies of the North and the Vale. They are not welcome here, nor must I add are another member of this so-called congress." Royce leveled a haughty finger at the wilding chieftains, beards long and ragged. "I must issue my protest that the Knights of the Vale be included on the same level as Wildling invaders."

Bracing for a furious reaction that Wildlings were known to exhibit, Jon was mildly surprised when Tormund answered rather calmly. "We didn't invade. We were invited."

"Not by me." The chamber erupted in an uproar of the Lords, Knights, and Maesters arguing amongst themselves. Many targeted Tyrion as the lone Lannister, few arguing in his favor due to the indifference thrown by the Esossi officers, loyal behind their Lannister-hating commander. A few were directed at Tyene Martell for her cousin's backing of Joffrey, only for the former Sand Snake to give back as good as she got. Sansa pursed her lips while Robb ran a hand down his head. There was an old saying that two northerners couldn't go five minutes without an argument and fight breaking out, and this seemed to hold true today.

"We would have all died if it wasn't for them!"

"No friend of ours supports a Lannister!"

"The North has spent centuries fighting the Wildlings!"

"How can we trust someone that brought a slave-trader back to our lands!" That comment brought Lyanna Mormont's sharp tongue out in defense of her uncle, Ser Jorah merely keeping a stony silence.

"Do shut up, all of you," the Queen of Thorns spat. "I feel like I'm in the damned nursery again."

Having enough, Jon stood, pounding his palm against the table. "Please, Lords. The Knights of the Vale, the northmen, the Free Folk, the Unsullied, we all fight together to defend the North." He looked towards Dany, the piercing gaze in his eyes making her heart flutter. "My father, Ned Stark, always said that one's true friends were found on the battlefield."

"But the battle is over!" announced Lord Cerwyn. "The Boltons are defeated. The Mad Prince is in chains. Winter has come, and if the Maesters are right it will be the coldest in a thousand years." He pointed at the Stark table. "You claim to care for us all, but only seem to require our forces to mass together for the Mad King's daughter. Let her foreign hordes fight for her, while we be with our families to ride out the coming storm."

Watching him sit, Jon met the eyes of all the assembled Lords. "Aye, this battle is over, but the war has just begun. Joffrey Baratheon," hisses erupted, drawing rare accord between those present. "Masses the combined forces of the South to fight us, an army that conquered Dorne in mere months. And the true threat continues to loom to the north. I promise all of you, my Lords, the true enemy will not wait, for he brings the storm."

A long silence hung over those present, parsing Jon's words. "Are you talking about the Long Night?" asked Lord Royce. "That's nothing but a legend. A child's fairytale."

"Fairy tales do not threaten the entirety of humanity, my Lord." Emerging from the shadows, the fiery red hair and cloak of Melisandre gave her a sinister air. "When their kind was banished to the Land of Always Winter, the prophecy foretold that they would return. Men must reclaim the dawn, led into the night by the Prince that was Promised…"

"Stop this drivel, foreign scum," yelled a knight from the Riverlands. "Don't peddle your superstitions to us. We know you declared for Joffrey before grafting yourself to the Tyrells."

Varys stood up - though he had a bias against the faith of R'hllor, he tried to analyze the issue neutrally. "All points to you as an honorable man, Lord Snow. Why you would lie about something of this magnitude does escape me, but you have to admit that it is far-fetched. An army of men emerging from death? We have a confirmed enemy to the south, and as far as I know, Joffrey Baratheon is among the living." Tyrion snorted. Varys actually cracked a joke? 'Imagine my shock.'

"There is nothing far-fetched about the Night King," Robb replied. None among the northmen muttered a word challenging Jon's contention. They had the greatest connection to the old Westeros, when the First Men fought the Others. They were far more believing. "I have fought his hordes, and if we are not united when they breach the Wall, we are doomed."

"I have seen them as well," Margaery added. "They are a threat unlike any other."

Lord Hornwood stood, weary. "What would you have us do about this threat, Lord Snow? If it is true, how can we stop them with Joffrey Baratheon on our southern border?"

'Best out with it now.' Glancing to his left, Sansa nodded, hopeful resignation on her face. Glancing to his right, Dany gave him a soft smile, reading his mind. "Go on, brother," Arya bluntly stated, drawing muted chuckles from the other Starks.

Breathing deeply, Jon looked straight at ever grouping of Lords and Knights present. 'Now or never.' "My Lords, the only hope we can begin to have for when the Night King crosses the Wall is to defeat Joffrey Baratheon and unite the Seven Kingdoms. But his armies are vast, even the combined might of the North, Riverlands, and Vale do not hope to match what Tywin Lannister can bring to bear. Therefore…" He reached for Dany's hand, tangling their fingers together. Their eyes met, Jon's lips curling into a ghost of a smile before turning to the Lords. "I have procured an alliance with Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen. She will provide us with tens of thousands of experienced soldiers bloodied on the battlefields of Essos, a powerful navy of Ironborn, and three adult dragons." Jon cleared his throat, voice loud and clear. "I also announce my betrothal to Queen Daenerys, to seal this union between all the realms of humanity in the face of the coming storm."

The only soulds in the great hall was the howling of the outside wind. Those that knew about this previously, such as Catelyn or Tyrion, merely shifted in their seats. Aside from hushed translations for the Unsullied and Dothraki, the majority of the Westerosi were stunned dumb. A Stark - even a bastard - marrying a Targaryen? No one denied the Dragon Queen was beautiful, and for two legitimized Targyaren children to be fathered by him was irritating but bearable. But to marry one?

It took nearly a minute for the announcement to sink in. "TRAITOR!" yelled an unnamed northerner. "You spit on your ancestors!"

"Hold your tongue, lest you lose it," Arya hissed back.

Most were far more circumspect. "Lord Snow," began Lord Mazin, someone in his corner since the fight against Ramsay but no friend for the Targaryens. "I understand the impulse you have. The Dragon Queen's armies are impressive, and she is a beautiful woman with whom you have sired… children with…"

"I hope that you will stay respectful, Lord Mazin." Sansa wasn't as hardened as Arya, but her voice held the same steel. Arya was impressed. "Your loyalty is greatly appreciated, but do not forget who you are speaking to… or where you are speaking from."

Lord Mazin gulped. "I dare not, Lady Stark. But Lord Snow, I implore you not to trust the Targaryens. Not after what they did."

"Here here!"

"They are mad, all of them!" Lady Dustin, sister-in-law to Roose Bolton, quaked in fury. "Look what her father did. What her brother did!"

Tyrion stood. "Viserys Blackfyre was stripped of his name by Queen Daenerys, under royal decree. He will be brought to trial for his crimes." His words slowed many of the naysayers, but did not stop them.

"Please don't marry her, Lord Snow." Yohn Royce felt no affinity for the northern bastard, but his former Lady's sister stood behind him and he would - but marrying a Targaryen was too much, still bearing the scars of when he joined Jon Arryn to fight the Mad King. "She bared your children, but do not do so out of that obligation," he pleaded.

"I will marry Daenerys Targaryen, no other," Jon replied, ice coating his near wolf-growl.

"Lords and Ladies, please!" Upright, Margaery Tyrell gazed impassionately at the assemblage, silently pleading. "The Long Night is soon upon us. Past grudges and blood feuds serve no one except the Night King."

"The only storm I see being brought down upon us is that of the Targaryens," Royce shot back. "None of us has claimed to see these 'Others' as you have Jon Snow, but we all know the Targaryens are no friends of the North." That the Vale stood with the North would normally have been a huge success of the meeting - Sansa and Tyrion shared a wince all the same.

Jon grew visibly angry… only to be stopped by a soft hand. "Let me," Dany whispered, pleading with him. Unable to resist her urgings, Jon took a seat. "Lords of Westeros," she began, "There is not a desire in my body to force you to bend the knee, even though it could be done easily." By the added steel in her voice, Jon knew she meant it. Sansa seemed impressed, Robb let out a soft chuckle, while both Missandei and Ser Jorah offered small smirks. Even in appeasing the lords, the Dragon Queen let them know who held the position of strength.

Breaking the pause was Tyene Martell. "If you do not seek the bended knee of the north, your Grace, what do you want?" Best the query come from an ally, and she was indeed curious - the heated discussion distracted from the unbearable cold.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Dany missed Jon's touch. "Nearly three hundred years ago, King in the North Torrhen Stark bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon Targaryen. He swore to him in perpetuity. My brother…"

'Oh Dany.' Jon resisted the urge to wrap her up in his arms. It was still hard for her to bear, to be the daughter and brother of persons so cruel and evil. 'Hells, my grandfather and uncle.' All the Starks could see it if the others couldn't - her kind heart overwhelming any traces of madness.

Stronger than she looked, Dany continued. "He sought to enforce that covenant through fire and blood. But I am not my brother. Targaryen fire and blood will reign down upon those that deserve it, not those simply in the way toward full conquest. Marrying a child of the North makes me a northerner, and I will harm myself before I harm my people." Regal as she was, the passion infusing her voice spoke to her genuineness. Dany watched as Lord Manderly, having scowled through the whole meeting, leaned back in rapt attention.

"When we are married," Jon stated. "Daenerys will hold Northern title alongside her birthright. The north will maintain its full sovereignty under not a Warden of a monarch, but of a King that simultaneously holds higher title over the entire Realm." It was a Valyrian concept - that of Empire - and innately foreign to any Westerosi, but that was what made it the answer in Jon's view.

She looked at Jon, gaze tender. "Lord Snow will rule alongside me. I do not seek to conquer you. I seek to make you equal among all others…"

Even with their familiarity after being briefed earlier by Sam and Sansa personally, prejudice against House Targaryen proved too hard to summit. "And yet the dragonspawn do seek to continue your rule, if not as a Queen but as an 'Empress!'"

Lord Cerwyn's face was red with anger. "We watched as Viserys Targaryen had my father fed to the flames for refusing to bend the knee. We saw the body of our beloved She-wolf after Prince Rhaegar raped and killed her." Angry growls left the lips of many of the northerners. "This is what the Dragonspawn does, and frankly I don't see why her and the other Essos scum are not as great a threat as Joffrey Baratheon."

"I know the evil done to you by my father, though I was not yet born at the time. I understand the pain and suffering done to you by my brother, cruel and uncaring as he was, because he had done the same to me." Daenerys allowed a pregnant pause to occur before she continued. "Not even his own family was free from his perfidy."

It was Sansa that stood at that point. "Queen Daenerys risked everything coming here. She could have easily stayed in Dragonstone and then joined forces with her brother, but she flew north and put her own dragons at risk to do for us what she did for the slaves of Meereen. For this, I pledge my support to her, as should the entire North. Not as subjects, but as partners." From the smile she sent, Dany was grateful, Sansa's unspoken reply indicating that she wouldn't have done differently.

"I don't seek to conquer," Dany finished. "Instead, I seek to fight alongside Jon Snow." With that, she had moved the discussion away from her and on to the coming fight. "For the good of the North, all the realm, and for humanity itself against those that threaten us."

"Liar!" shouted one man from House Mallister of the Riverlands.

"We should kill those beasts while we have the chance!" an unknown voice said, drawing a few ayes. Dany, still standing tall, inwardly flinched at the hate. She wished for Jon's touch to steady her, but until the Lords accepted their union it would be unwise. The distance pained her.

Robett Glover, who Catelyn had told Daenerys was one of Lyanna Stark's most ardent suitors back in the day, shot up harshly from his seat. "You are the Mad King's daughter!" His eyes were dark with the rage held so long at the Targaryens. "You would burn us all if we stood in your way!"

Daenerys was not without her defenders. "Do not speak of Queen Daenerys as if she monster!" Grey Worm's common tongue was doing much better, but still broken and accented. Amplified his foreign nature. "She could have kept us under the whip, kept Meereen, Yunkai, Astapor in chain..."

Jeers rained on him from many of the Westerosi nobles. "Quiet foreigner!" yelled one of the Vale Knights. "You have no place here." Over half of the knights began pounding the table in affirmation.

"Queen Daenerys did not enslave Meereen. She will not enslave you…"

"She brought the Dothraki across the Narrow Sea," Lord Glover shot back. Everyone was worked up with the almost impossible task of putting together such a diverse coalition without the tyrannical control of a Joffrey Baratheon or Tywin Lannister at the helm. The differences and ancient hatreds had pushed all to the breaking point, especially Robett Glover, finally letting out his grief over his long-lost love. "Her army reeks of slave soldiers, bringing foreign ways to our shores. If the Targaryen did not have the protection of the Starks, wouldn't all of you drive her into the sea where she and her foreign scum belong?!"

His words, once translated, drove the Dothraki into a fury of guttural insults. As some northerners moved to draw their swords the Unsullied guards tightened their hold on their spears. The odd words of peace from Tyrion or Catelyn were drowned out by the enraged squabbling that threatened to descend into open fighting.

"ENOUGH!" A resonating bang echoing with the booming yell, the entire room found themselves staring at Jon Snow. Normally as cool as ice, in his eyes blazed a fury hot as dragonfire. Dany shuddered, as did Arya, Sansa, and Robb. There was no denying he was a dragon. "Then you'll have to take down the true heir to the Targaryen throne as well."

Blinking, for the first time Lord Glover looked off balance. "True heir? The Mad Prince?"

"I am speaking of myself, Glover," Jon growled dismissively. "Not the bastard son of Ned Stark, but Jaehaerys Targaryen, trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, heir to the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms!" if he were an actual dragon he'd be spitting fire. "And if any of you dare harm a single hair on my betrothed, they'll have to use a shovel for your blackened remains."

Hanging in the air, it was as if the voices had been sucked out of the throats of the Lords. Jon certainly played the part of the Targaryen Dragon. For Daenerys, everything now hung in the balance. Fear of Ramsay Bolton had kept the North in line behind Viserys, and yet by going against her father's legacy it only emboldened them to buck her. To challenge her. Dany wanted her subjects to follow her because they believed in her cause, just as the Unsullied had. Their hate and anger stung, but didn't come close to the trepidation that his people might turn on Jon as well.

"That…" Glover babbled, suddenly dizzy. "That is impossible."

"In this you are wrong, Lord Glover." Catelyn stood. "Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark were married before the Old Gods and the Seven, following a mutual annulment between the Crown Prince and Elia Martell. I have seen the documents signed in both their hands." Looking at Jon, remorse filled her eyes. "I spent years believing his lie, but such a lie was necessary. Robert Baratheon would have killed young Jon had he known the truth, just as the Mountain killed his half-siblings."

Lord Royce couldn't fathom it. "Why would the Mad King kill Rickard and Brandon Stark if Rhaegar had simply married the girl?"

A snort echoed through the hall. "Because he was mad, idiot." Olenna tapped the floor with her cane. "I knew the Usurper in his glory days, same drunken, whoring oaf as he always was, but he loved Lyanna and thought she loved him. Probably thought the only reason she would leave was kidnapping." Arya looked for Gendry, hoping he didn't hate himself for his father's misdeeds. Seeing him, she realized he was quite nonplussed - Robert Baratheon had been nothing to the blacksmith's apprentice, and thus tearing him down didn't affect him.

A nondescript, silent figure made himself known for the first time. Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch and someone generally forgotten by the majority of the north. Never to the Starks. "What the lad says about the She-wolf was as true then as it is now." The whole north knew the story - the young Lord Ned Stark went to Dorne with a half-dozen men, and returned with his sister's corpse, his bastard son, and Howland Reed. "I saw Lyanna Targaryen on her deathbed, holding the babe now standing before you. Ned promised that he would protect her babe, and to do so he chose to accept the stain on his honor…"

"...Thus proving himself the most honorable of all of us," Tyrion finished. 'Ned Stark's honor strikes again.' The truth was that no one could dispute Howland Reed's tale, for if there was anyone as honorable as Ned Stark, it was the crannogman Lord. The one man in the entire North whose reputation had not been damaged in the years of war and betrayal. It settled upon all. The Bastard of Winterfell was really the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Anger and passion washed away from the Lords, confronted with the root of their decades-old hate being a lie.

Long since known to the north as the 'Spitfire of Bear Island' Lyanna Mormont wasted no time in her blunt assault - it fondly reminded Jon of her grandfather. "I am ashamed at all of you." Her eyes locked on one lord. "Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderly, and yet you refused the call." He shifted her gaze to another. "And you Lord Glover, you care so much about Lyanna Stark, yet when her son came to you to fight the Mad Prince, you refused the call. And you, Lord Cerwyn. Your father was burned alive by Viserys Targaryen, yet you refused the call.

"But there was one that answered the call. Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen. She answered the call, risked her life and the life of her dragons to defend the north from her own family." Her youthful voice boomed with strength. "You speak of the Mad King's blood, fellow Lords, but we saw the true heir to his evil in Viserys Targaryen. And where were you, Lord Glover? Did you fight him? Did you say to him what you say to the woman that joined the North in stopping him, who cares for us enough to marry a child of the north and leave us our own Kingdom?" The aged lord fell on his seat, face ashen. Lyanna nearly spat in disgust. "Looking at you cowards, it makes me ashamed to be a Northerner."

Looking up at Jon, she drew her short sword. "I don't care if he's a Targaryen, or a bastard, or whatever he is or may be. He is of the North. The She-wolf's blood runs through his veins. Stark blood runs in his children's veins. I chose to pledge my House behind Jon Snow because he is the man to lead the north through the coming winter." Her eyes met Dany's, and in them Dany could see the same trust as was given by the freedmen of Meereen. "I chose to trust Daenerys Targaryen because she risked it all to help us in our hour of greatest need, and instead of forcing us to heel with her brother, she seeks bread and mead at our table. If they believe that they must journey to the seven hells together, then I will journey to each hell with them." Determination burned inside her. "Jaehaerys Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen are my leaders. My Emperor and Empress. King and Queen in the North."

Jon met Lady Mormont's gaze, nodding slightly in thanks. "Lady Mormont is right," Robb suddenly said, standing for the first time. "All of you present believed that I was the 'Young Wolf,' one that would lead the North to its rightful place in the realm. And I believed it." To Jon's surprise he left his perch at the table. What he said next surprised him even more. "But I was wrong. I was unable to uphold my honor and allowed those that trusted me to suffer the indignity of tyranny. As a man, descended from a line of great men, one can only admit his mistake and seek forgiveness."

"There is nothing to forgive, brother," Jon stated.

Nodding, Robb gestured his hand far and wide. "I may not deserve to be your leader, but Jaehaerys Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen do. I have known Jon Snow all my life, and he is my brother no matter his blood. He has trusted the Dragon Queen with our honor, and they will bring to the world what they brought to the North and to Meereen." The former King drew his sword and pointed it at the vaulted ceiling. "They will bring us to victory! King and Queen in the North, and Emperor and Empress!" The sword smacked onto the floor as Robb bent the knee - pledging himself to his brother and sister-in-law in the name of House Stark, and bequeathing on them both titles.

Staring at his brother, Jon looked back at the boy he bade farewell to long before. Gone was the idealistic, confident heir to the Stark name, thrust into a position far beyond his years just as he had. Just as Sansa had. The old Robb, good man though he was, would never have swallowed his pride to admit mistake. Yet here he was, bending the knee to his brother. Suddenly, he felt soft, white fingers clasping his hand underneath the table, squeezing it. He smiled, Dany's love and support grounded him through this momentous occasion. His love, his bride, his Queen. His Empress.

"If there is anyone who has proven themselves without honor, it is I. Only through doing what is right could I even hope to atone for my mistakes." Catelyn had no sword, but she proclaimed her stance all the same. "On behalf of my brother and uncle, House Tully pledges its banners to Houses Stark and Targaryen, and proclaims Jaehaerys and Daenerys the true monarchs of the Realm!"

"My son died fighting for Robb Stark, and I didn't want to risk the lives of more Manderlys for the wrong cause." The aging lord of White Harbor thrust his corpulent frame off the bench. "But I was wrong." His sword scraped against the scabbard as he drew it. "Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen avenged the Red Wedding! They are the union of ice and fire, monarchs that I will follow to the ends of the earth. King and Queen in the North, and Emperor and Empress!" He collapsed on his knee, beside Robb.

"I may not command many in the field," announced Tyene Martell. "But what I offer is the spirit of Dorne. The honor of our people, unbowed and unbroken." To Dany, it seemed as if House Martell had its new creed. "Jaehaerys and Daenerys Targaryen seek not slaves, but partners in leaving this world a better place than the one we inherited. House Martell, all of true Dorne, stands behind House Targaryen through the Long Night and in the centuries to come!"

Up rose Lord Glover, contrition and shame written on his face. "I didn't fight beside you in the battle, and I will regret this for the rest of my days." To Dany's surprise, he shifted his address to her. "Lyanna… loved her dragon. It was not Rhaegar that caused this tragedy. We don't condemn those for their father's crimes. I must offer my sincerest apologies to you, your Grace. Jon Snow has placed his trust in you, then it brings shame that I did not trust his judgement."

Feeling Jon squeeze her hand, Dany felt a surge of confidence go through her. "There is no need to apologize my Lord. All I ask is that we fight the coming battles together."

A sense of relief seemed to course over the older man's face. "Aye. There will be many battles to come, and I vow to all of you. House Glover stands behind Houses Stark and Targaryen, and I stand behind King Jaehaerys and Queen Daenerys. Rulers in the North, and Emperor and Empress."

"To the Emperor and Empress!" shouted one of the Vale knights.

Soon all of the Lords and knights rose, swords high in the air.

"The Emperor and Empress!"

"The Emperor and Empress!"

"The Emperor and Empress!"

Jon and Dany glanced at each other, eyes meeting for a split second. Here was Jon, basking in his proclamation as King in the North - an equal to Daenerys in every way, standing astride her path to reclaiming her birthright. And she didn't care. He was the man she loved, the father of her children, the other half of her soul. Her King as she was his Queen. Her Emperor as she was his Empress, the long-dead words sounding natural to her. She knew Jon would have given it up in a heartbeat for her, but Dany would never have asked. They were in it together, equals taking on the world.