gloomy beach

3

08.13.17 • a gloomy beach day + trig notes to review for calc 

So school starts tomorrow, and I can’t say I’m too happy about it… (junior year, here I come). Are you guys looking forward to school?

Shifting Shadows

Hi babies! This is my first attempt at writing a Jonerys one-shot, inspired by the spoilers and events of s7. Leave a comment, I love those, tell me if you think I should write more, and yeah, enjoy!







When the little boat touched the shores of Dragonstone, Jorah Mormont jumped out of it and ran to the middle of the beach. The gloomy gray sky was covered with three large, fire- breathing beasts, whose song illuminated the island. Jorah jumped over the washed-up branches and twigs and saw Missandei and Tyrion waiting for him. The lady from Naath was wearing a dark green cape over a black outfit, pinned with a butterfly pin, and the little lion sported black, the silver of his pin clashing against the dark leather.

-Welcome back, Sir Jorah! I hope you had a safe journey. The Queen is waiting for you. – Smiled Tyrion, always the diplomat.

Small talk and catching up with Missandei helped him get back in the game and he realized where Daenerys currently was. She lost a huge part of her fleet, the Dornish were captured and the Queen of Thorns was gone. He smiled, imaging being the one who’d eventually comes to her rescue. He stared at the ships harbored at the port and was almost stunned. Most of the banners were the three-headed red dragon, some krakens, a rose now and there, a few suns, but the most shocking thing were two large ships with a banner he hoped he’d never see again. The gray direwolf on the snow-white background. What were Starks doing here? Didn’t the Young Wolf die a few years ago?

Climbing the stairs to Dragonstone, he was greeted by the emerald green beast. The Northerner couldn’t resist but wave. He noticed Dothraki celebrating on the beach. The Unsullied opened the doors and sober Dothraki escorted him to a large, well lit, dining room. It was decorated with dragon carvings, busts of Aegon and his sister-wives, it had a large fireplace, a gigantic table fit for a king, and obsidian sculptures. The first thing that stunned him was laughter. It sounded like bells or birds and filled the room. Three people were laughing, two men and, unmistakably, Daenerys Targaryen. Tyrion took his seat on Daenerys’ left. She was seated on the head of the table, as one would expect it. Tyrion was seated left, next to him was a grey haired man with a strong, Flea Bottom accent. Across him, Missandei took her place. The person next to Daenerys was the one who shocked him the most. His back was only visible to him, his dark curly hair was tied in a bun that was a mess, he was dressed in simple, but well-made clothes, but his doublet was draped on his chair, so he was just in a dark blue shirt, black breeches and boots. He was laughing with the Queen, their eyes never leaving each other.

She was beautiful as always. Her braids were a little bit loose, and she wore no coat over her dress, making her arms, shoulders and decollate visible. She sipped wine and wiped a tear. When she saw him, she got up, the table following her. The dark haired man turned around, revealing the strong, solemn face of a true Stark. His mind clicked. Ned Stark’s bastard. This must be him.

-Sir Jorah! – She walked to him, clasping her arms. Her cheeks were rosy and she was giggling like a young girl.

-How are you? Did you travel well? Come, sit down, you must be tired! – She left him speechless. As usual, the lump in his throat made him seem small next to this tiny young lady.

-I suppose you were cured? Sir Jorah?-

-Yes, Khaleesi, I am cured, and here, back with the Targaryen alliance.-

-Marvelous! Sit down!-

He sat down next to the man with the accent.

-I have to introduce to you Jon Snow, the King in the North, and his advisor, Sir Davos Seaworth, they are our guests here.-

Both men got up and shook hands with him. Jorah swallowed remembering Ned Stark’s bounty on his head. Does his bastard know?

-The King in the North? I thought those were extinct?-

-We thought the same for dragons, Sir Jorah. – Answered Davos.

-Jon knew you father, Jeor Mormont. He speaks very highly of him. – Smiled the Valyrian beauty.

She calls him Jon. Oh.

The King in the North nodded.

-Finest man I ever met. He gave me his sword, taught me how to be a leader… He was a true hero. I shipped his bones to Bear Island, and your young cousin, Lady Lyanna.-

He was just like Ned Stark. Right honorable, kind, keeps his sentences short. He was truly his blood and a Northerner to the core. They all sat down.

-Where were you cured and how?-

-At the Citadel. It’s a long and tiresome story, my Queen. Another time, maybe.-

-We’re celebrating a huge victory tonight! We robbed Cersei of gold and crops and took her brother prisoner, who is, as we speak, being treated for his wounds. And a random sell-sword. –

-He’ll serve you if you pay him well. And Jaime is a fool. Attacking a dragon with a simple lance. – Nodded Tyrion after his third glass.

Daenerys poured him a cup and handed it over through Tyrion and Davos. He sipped it carefully.

-We are also discussing terms of our alliance with the North.- She turned over to Jon who was finishing his cup, cheeks red like her lips.

-Yup. - Jon was never particularly good with wine. He starred at the bottom of the goblet. Was this his 4th or 3rd cup?

-What where you laughing about?-

-Sir Davos was telling us about his trials and tribulations as a smuggler.-

Jorah felt out place here. The most uncomfortable thing was the way Dany’s chair was turned. It was too close to Jon’s, but it was noticeable he also moved his chair. Missandei yawned and excused herself, leaving the small company for some sleep.

Jon and Daenerys were almost touching. He was subconsciously playing with a stray lock of her silver hair, she just glanced over and continued to speak.

-Tyrion and I drafted some plans to free Yara Greyjoy and install Sarella Martell as Princess of Dorne. The remaining daughters of Oberyn Martell are here with us. We considered to create one of the remaining Tyrell cousins as Wardens of the South as soon they arrive. We have plenty of time now, considering Cersei is left penniless and without food. We fed the troops and villages near Dragonstone, and a significant part is being shipped north. –

-The North is also a part of the seven kingdoms, Khaleesi.-

-Yes, yes it is. And I think it will be the most difficult one to conquer. – She mustered, emphasizing the word difficult.

-I agree with you. It shall be extremely difficult. - said Jon into the goblet.

They gave each other the look again as they shared a day ago, in a small cave. Tyrion picked up a knife from the beef roast and pretended to cut air with it as he proceed to cut off a large chunk of meat. Davos laughed into the cup and put it down.

-The King and I discussed yesterday how you have a good heart.-

She smiled and Jon almost spat out his wine.

-So kind of you two! Why do you think I have a good heart, Jon Snow?-

-Because you have a heart. And it is good. - Dany removed the goblet from his hand.

-Very good! - Said Davos, tapping himself on the chest. Tyrion chuckled.

-Sir Davos, are you willing to go for a walk? And you, Sir Jorah?-

The Onion knight laughed and got up, followed by the Bear. The lovebirds stayed alone. Jorah felt like leaving for a burial after he was escorted out.

The Dragon and the Wolf were left alone. Jon just realized he was playing with her hair.

-Oh, I am so sorry…-

-Oh no, it’s fine. –

He read between the lines and touched her hair again. And again. The violet in her eyes gleamed at his dark gray and he shivered.

-You are a complicated man, Jon Snow. You pretend to be simple, but the truth is, you are complex, like a human maze. – Her fingers grazed over his chest, and she bit her lip, drawing his eyes to her mouth.

-And you are the most stubborn person I have ever met, Daenerys Targaryen, and I have lived with wildlings. They should call you Daenerys Stubborn instead of Stormborn.-

-Are you staring at my good heart, my lord?-

He blushed, putting the strand down.

-No, I am not! - He said in a matter-of-fact tone. She just laughed.

-Will you ever bend the knee?-

-Never! - He slammed his fist on the table and took a large sip of wine.

-Really?-

He hiccupped.

-No, those lands belong to house Stark. House Stark alone. I am King now, one day, someone else will inherit my throne and life goes on I suppose…-

-Who will inherit the North? Your future child?-

-No, I don’t think so. Maybe Sansa’s child if she has any. But, you are right. I need an heir to ensure there’s no war after my demise. It is true what they say.-

-And what do they say?-

-A king is nothing without a queen.-

He pointed at her.

-You are a queen. I am supposed to be a king…-

-Is this a proposal, Jon Snow?-

-I’m too drunk to know…-

There was an odd silence.

-What do you want from me?-

-The obsidian. And an army would be nice.-

-No, I am asking you what you want from me. Daenerys, not the Queen.-

Jon was left in silence. He thought of Aerys and his grandfather and uncle, and then he remembered what happened to Dany, who was sold like a brood mare. Was it wrong to want a Targaryen girl? Oh gods, she was so beautiful… She was an ally, the threat was coming, and he got drunk in a castle miles away from home. He felt like a self-indulgent idiot. This was no time to fall in love and daydream about marriage and perhaps, future children.

-Would you like to have children one day?-

-I already have three of them.-

-I mean human babies, not reptilian ones.-

-I am barren…- She whispered.

-How do you know that?-

-I was cursed by a witch. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east - she said sadly. -When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Then my womb will quicken again, and I’ll bear a living child. –

-I never believed in prophecies, and that sounds like bollocks. When I took the black, I never dared to dream about having a child. Now, if I survive this shit war, I’ll have 20 of those if I can.-

She giggled.

-Your poor wife…-

He smiled softly at her, a part of his initial hostility was gone. Jon wondered if Daenerys ever dreamt of having a child or two on her own, and how much it must pain her heart.

-After I conquer Westeros, I’ll find an heir somehow. It is scary to be the last of your name. Most people who lost their families decide to start their own, but I know I am not capable of that.-

-If your family made better decisions in the past, you wouldn’t be alone now, I suppose…-

-Really? I think its past overdue to talk about my family and the mistakes they made. What of your family?-

-My family?-

-Yes. How did Ned Stark die?-

Jon inhaled deeply. Part of him knew she was right and he hated it.

-We shall never surrender to you, Daenerys.-

-You? Or the North? Because if you are talking about yourself, I’d say you surrendered a while ago.-

-Oh? When did I allegedly surrender?-

She got up from the table and started going to the door. Jon jumped up and pulled on his doublet, leaving it unfasten. He followed her to one of the many balconies her palace had. Never in his wildest dreams had he assumed he’d be flirting and bickering with a queen in her palace. They were looking down on the Dothraki celebrating their victory. Pyres were lit, people danced and got drunk, it all seemed so peaceful down there. And calm. Almost made him forget about the threat in beyond the Wall.

-You know, my lords, Sansa, my sister, they all told me I should never go here, they said you cannot be trusted, that you would never let me go home…-

-Perhaps they were right. – She said, without a single smile.

There was an unexplainable silence after her words. It was almost comfortable.

-So when did I surrender?-

-You are a talkative and stubborn Northerner, Jon Snow.-

-No one ever considered me talkative. Or stubborn.-

-Oh really? Your men advise you to stay in Winterfell and you go to see me?-

-I needed your armies and support. I thought as a fellow monarch I could convince you to help us.-

-An ambassador could have done the same thing, Jon Snow. I am not difficult to convince when you follow and listen to my terms.-

-I told you, Daenerys. My people had enough. And I did not surrender to you!-

-You did in that cave! - She finally turned around from the balcony, taking steps to him. He took a step back into the shadows of the statue of some mystical Valyrian deity. –You looked at me as if you loved me from the Dawn Ages and became all concerned and protective when I went to battle! What is your plan?-

She closed her eyes and remembered a reoccurring dream. Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of a lover, but it was never Jorah Mormont, Darrio Naharis, Khal Drogo or any man she met, she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow. The Mother of Dragons inhaled deeply; the air tasted sweet. The noise from the Dothraki was gone.

-You are testing my patience and tempting my fury, Jon Snow.-

-And you are entitled, Daenerys Stormborn.-

Her hands trembled.

-All I ever wanted was to avenge my family. Reclaim what was once ours, burry them where they’re supposed to be buried, I just want to right some wrong… Don’t you feel the same?-

Jon felt the duality of her words. He touched the moon of her hair again. Her lips trembled, as if she wanted to say something. He’d never remember what had gotten into him that night, perhaps the wine or the feelings he was not able to shake off since they’ve met. He grabbed her face and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

On the stairs of Dragonstone, Jorah Mormont was drinking some Dothraki brew, listening to Tyrion Lannister’s story how he brought a honeycomb and a jackass to a brothel. The Dwarf of Casterly Rock raised his goblet and was about to finish his story when the knight got up. Jorah felt his stomach turn. Jon Snow was ferociously kissing his Queen, her hands were in his hair. They parted for a moment, their foreheads pressing. The King in the North picked her up like a bride and carried her back to the fort. Tyrion stopped talking and followed Jorah. Davos got up too.

-Well, I’d be damned… - Said Davos.

-I have a feeling that diplomacy between our factions will go much smoother now, Sir Davos. – Grinned Tyrion.

Mormont remained silent. He suffered through her marriage to a Khal, her affair with Darrio, but this was beyond everything he expected. Davos decided to twist the dagger that was drilled deep into his heart by the young Queen.

-Will she take it well when we leaves to capture the wights?-

-She will. Her Grace is made of steel. Don’t you agree, Sir Jorah?-

Jorah remained silent.

-This is a onetime thing for her. She’ll move on like she does every time. Remember Darrio Naharis?-

Somehow, the Hand of the Queen comforted him.

Two days later, Jorah was suiting up for the fight. He glanced over and saw the Northerners dressing up too. And then he saw them. He hadn’t spoken to Daenerys since the night he arrived. She was walking next to Ned Stark’s bastard, a soft smile gracing her features. He listened to their conversation.

-You’ll sail with the Queen Rhaella that is your main ship, if I understood correctly to White Harbor, where my sister will be waiting for you. And then we’ll meet again in Winterfell.-

-Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. – She pulled out a moonstone pin out of her pocket, opened his cape and pinned it on the lining.

-Dothraki believe moonstone guards you from evil.-

They exchanged a soft, quick peck on the lips that no one saw and he smiled at her.

-I promise, Daenerys Stormborn. I promise.-

She hugged him and he squeezed her waist, picking her up lightly. They parted and he jumped up on that boat, waving to her. She waved to Jorah, but he didn’t have the strength to return the courtesy. The wind blew reminding him of his fate. Jorah Mormont was not meant for happiness.