A Dream of a Red Door Ch. 06

EPILOGUE

As the months went by, Daenerys's condition soon rendered certain activities either impractical or unwise, and thus Jon had indulged her whim and swapped their sturdy oak bed for one with a golden filigreed headboard. A headboard to which he had promptly tied her wrists with the finest scarves and proceeded to work his tongue and fingers below her growing belly in a number of very interesting ways. Still, while it was enjoyable, she found that she much preferred Jon's original methods, and she looked forward to when her body would once again be hers alone.

She discovered she had not nearly the taste for such play as Jon did, but Daenerys did delight on occasion in the sight of her husband on the bed, straining against the ropes, as she teased him ... particularly if he'd been especially irritating that day. Often, however, she found herself wishing she was in his place instead, and it was not terribly infrequent that they took turns, both amusing themselves in seeing who could draw the other's pleasure out the longest, until they pled for release. Whatever shame the queen had once felt at such pastimes had long since vanished. Unbidden, the words of her treacherous handmaiden would rise from the depths of her memory.

We are as the gods have made us ...

The familiar game of her kneeling and staring into the fire had largely lost its luster with the compulsion lifted, though Daenerys and Jon did revisit old habits from time to time.

When her belly had grown uncomfortably large and their child's arrival appeared imminent, she asked Jon to have the door to the royal quarters painted red.

The years to come were kind to Queen Daenerys Targaryen. Eddard Targaryen was born healthy and hale, and the realm rejoiced that the shadow of tragedy and cruelty which had seemingly poisoned the queen's soul her entire life had finally, at last, been lifted. She smiled more easily, laughed more readily, and she appeared to have found peace. Prince Aegon ... she had insisted on at least one proper Targaryen name for her and Jon's children ... followed some years thereafter, and finally, when both of their sons had left behind their toddler years, their final effort at a daughter had resulted in Princess Lyanna arriving, squalling and red-faced, to greet the world.

At forty, the queen could still pass for a woman of thirty, and at fifty and five years old, people whispered that she had been blessed to remain as thin and fresh-faced as a woman still of four decades. Daenerys long suspected that this was somehow her husband's doing, but she had never inquired on the topic, and he had never broached it. She watched her children grow to the fullness of adulthood in peace, then have children, and eventually grandchildren, of their own. The Seven Kingdoms prospered, and over long years, wounds were healed, ruins were rebuilt, and cities repopulated.

For Jon, the decades did not touch him at all, and he looked much the same at his end of his reign as he had on its first day. Whispers of wonder at his youthful appearance eventually became questioning murmurs and then, ultimately, fearful mutters as first his children, and then his children's children, saw grey creep into their hair and lines etch upon their miens while his face remained unchanged.

Fairly early in his reign, Westeros gave him a new name, Aegon the Undying, which many felt had a lyrical symmetrical with certain prior Aegons, namely, Aegon the Unworthy and Aegon the Unlikely. At first it was used entirely in jest, due to his youthful appearance. Eventually, towards the end, few found any humor in the title, least of all Jon, who did his best to ignore it entirely.

Jon was devoted to his queen, some men said beyond all reason, and was loathe to leave her side for any meaningful stretch of days, but while their reign proved one of peace and prosperity, any kingdom had its share of troubles. The odd squabble between houses, the trading dispute turned ugly on the high sighs, and occasionally ... something more.

A decade or so after the Night King's Wroth, strange tales began to come out of the North, of dead men who rose at night, only to fall again at the break of day, of a ghostly white figure with bright blue eyes who would sit deep within snow-flurried woods, and flocks of crows who moved together with no discernible purpose. Winter winds rose in the dead of summer, and men barred their doors as fear took hold.

And Jon knew. He didn't fully understand why or how he knew, but he knew. As the occurrences appeared to be centered on Winterfell, he had flown there first to treat with his sister, Lady Stark. Lady Sansa Stark, while not pleased to see a brother with whom she had grown somewhat estranged, was at least polite as to his surprise visit via dragonback, but when she was informed of his suspicions as to the source of the depredations stalking the North, and his plan to remedy the issue ... namely via the armor he wore and the use of the sword at his side ... Lady Sansa's rage could not be quelled.

It was not the first time Jon had quarreled with Sansa. Their relationship had become strained when she learned he was in love, and intended to marry, the woman who, although she had played an instrumental role in saving the North and ending the Night King's Wroth, had burned down much of King's Landing, murdered many tens of thousands in the process, and was generally considered to have gone insane. That strain had grown to bitterness when Jon had refused to support Winterfell's petition for secession, and the bitterness had become a deep and gradually widening rift when Jon had not so subtly hinted that once he and his wife's rule had been consolidated, and he had finished pulling the Twins down to their foundation stones, he would not hesitate to turn north if Sansa declared herself Queen.

While there was no friendliness between them after the day Jon had hinted at his willingness to march his armies north, there had at least been polite cordiality. That ended when King Aegon told the Lady of Winterfell that Brandon Stark had become a foul creature polluted by the Night King's touch and that he intended to personally end their brother's nascent reign of terror. That day, their relationship had shattered beyond all hope of repair. Sansa's words rang in Jon's ears for many years, namely that Jon had found it in his heart to love the mad queen who had unleashed fire and blood upon King's Landing but would not even try to help his own brother.

When Sansa had barred him from Winterfell, a pronouncement he respected despite her having no right to issue it, he had continued his search, and after long weeks of following every trail of corpses he could find, he finally located Brandon Stark. As he suspected ... no ... as he had known, the Night King's touch had infected Bran. If he had waited even one more year, the king of the White Walkers would have returned. He had drawn Longclaw then, set it ablaze, and done what needed to be done. Bran thanked Jon, and begged him to keep secret his fate, just before he brought the sword down. Jon had given his word to Bran, and much like the keeping of such a secret had cost his father dearly, it cost Jon, as well.

Deciding that he had ignored the needs of his Stark kin for too long, Jon devoted himself to a long and often frustrating search for Arya. While it took several years, he finally received word that she had been frequenting opulent drinking and gambling establishments along a particularly exotic stretch of coastline bordering the Jade Sea. Given they had three children to raise and a kingdom to rule, Queen Daenerys had not been happy when Jon asked her consent to fly across the world in search of his long-missing sister, but eventually she agreed, if reluctantly. Such consent, however, was conditioned on an explicit assurance from Jon as to the maximum number of days he would be absent. Jon had given her such an assurance in a cavalier fashion, but secretly, he assumed that his wife would understand that he would be gone as long as was needed to find Arya.

Jon had a great deal of insight into his wife's nature, but on the above point he was gravely mistaken.

The search was long. Much longer than Jon had thought it would take. He saw amazing wonders of the Jade Sea during his months flying to one town and city after another and might have enjoyed them more if he had not been pestered at every stop by hordes of onlookers fascinated by Drogon and frustrated by Arya's apparent devotion to itinerant travels. Eventually, at last, he found his sister in a particularly expensive leisure establishment crammed with pillows and curtains and odd smelling smoke that caused the lobes of his ears and his lips to go numb and his head to become fogged with confusion.

His sister looked much the same, though the features of her face had hardened, and she'd grown whip-strong and lean. Jon knew that she immediately recognized that he had not aged, but she did him the courtesy of not mentioning it. Arya had been touched by Valyrian magic, as had he, and she had insights beyond those of normal men or women ... and he suspected she had some inkling of what the magic inside him was doing.

By the time, at long last, that he had located Arya, Jon had grown worried about the length of his absence from King's Landing. He did not wish to be rude and cut short their reunion, and thankfully, before he could broach the subject, Arya had informed him that she had business to attend to three days hence that could not be delayed, but she would very much like to spend those three days with him. Deciding that three more days after so many long months could not possibly matter, Jon resolved to spend them with Arya and then return to King's Landing immediately.

They had shared the stories of their lives, he had told her all about his family and their mutual friends and relations, and within minutes it was as if they had never been parted. Jon loved all his siblings, but it had always been with Arya that, in many ways, he felt the most understood.

Arya's business partner, with whom she apparently shared living quarters, was a striking, lively, and dangerous appearing woman with short raven black hair, a hawk nose, and a knowing leer. She stood at least a hand taller than Jon, but it was Arya who appeared in charge of their business ... and their lives. The two of them earned a rather impressive living tracking down ship captains inclined to barratry and individuals who had mistakenly believed that significant debts need not be repaid if the debtor merely relocated a sufficient distance from the creditor at issue.

Apparently, their success rate and steadfast and unwavering principle that they would bring criminals back to ports of jurisdiction, but would never be assassins, made them much in demand.

So lucrative was the profession that Arya and her partner often engaged in long stretches of indulgent idleness or curious adventure. Arya, without boasting, told them of amazing discoveries in Sothoryos, and Jon had been much impressed. Upon seeing the manner of the two women during the telling of these stories, and in particular the easy way in which they finished each other's sentences or casually touched a shoulder or knee at a particular energetic recollection, Jon quickly reached a conclusion about the true nature of Arya's relationship with the beauty at her side. When it became apparent his sister had no intention of discussing that part of her life, he decided not to pry.

One morning at breakfast, when the hawk-faced woman had worn a black leather jerkin with no shirt beneath, Jon had noticed a set of red, puffy bruises that encircled the entire circumference of the woman's wrists and a matching set of marks banding her upper arms, just above the elbows. They had faded by lunchtime, and were a subtle detail to spot, except to one who has seen such a thing many times before. Jon had smiled, and the thought did occur to him yet again that, of his kin, Arya was the most like him.

Jon had decided that he would not keep secrets from Arya she had a right to know, within the limits of his promise to Bran, and on the second day of his visit he had asked to speak with her alone. Arya brusquely informed him that she had no secrets from the woman with whom she shared her life, and thus he began.

First, he had begged Arya's forgiveness for what had happened with Bran, about what the Night King's touch had done, and what he had to do. She had looked at him with sad gray eyes and said, "Magic has a terrible price. I understand."

Next, he revealed to her his arrangement with the Faceless Men, namely that Arya would take their secrets with her to grave and not become a competitor, and in return they would leave her and her loved ones in peace. Arya had grown very still and asked him to explain further, and he obliged her.

The Seven Kingdoms owed a great deal of money to the Iron Bank of Braavos at the beginning of his rule, Jon explained, and the cost of rebuilding required the extension of even further loans. After a number of years of regular, on-time, repayments, accompanied by enthusiastic promises that the Targaryen dynasty would honor all debts, he had arranged for a meeting with men he had been informed held sway in Braavos. Time was of the essence, as he knew that Arya was fleeing from city to city, and had been for years, always one step ahead of Faceless Men.

At the meeting he had informed the men from Braavos that he was horrified to learn that their legendary guild of assassins continuously hunted his sister, a young woman half his size who was no threat to anyone. When they feigned ignorance, he had turned to the man who cast a shadow that did not match his body and said that he would tolerate no lies in his presence. The man had made a single gesture with his hand, and in unison, every other Braavosi stood and left the room.

"To murder the sister of a king would be a grievous crime," Jon informed the man with the mismatched shadow.

"A girl has stolen our secrets," the man replied, "and a man cannot play favorites. A girl knew the penalty for the choices she made."

Jon had informed him that he didn't care. He knew the Faceless Men honored their vows and considered them sacred, so they would reach an accord that day, or the repayments to the Iron Bank would cease immediately.

The man had sat silently, and then finally he had shrugged. "A nation would then pay the price for not honoring its debts."

The torches in the room had guttered and darkened, and Jon had leaned forward and made his shadow loom large on the wall behind him, as he replied, "Arya does not want to be your enemy, and neither do I, but if she dies, there will be fire and blood, and if you think your temple houses the only men in this world who know the secrets of old Valyria, I will teach you otherwise."

By that time, a threat from Aegon Targaryen VI was not something to be easily ignored.

The man had tilted his head and asked for Jon's proposal. It was simple, the loans would continue to be repaid, at a mildly higher interest rate ... Arya had gasped in shock when she realized what her life had cost ... and Jon would swear not to make the Faceless Men or Braavos his enemy for the entirety of his reign, so long as in return, the Faceless Men would inform Arya of the parts of the deal that she needed to know and then leave her alone.

The man from Braavos had considered, and said, "A girl must promise to never speak of our secrets, to not write them down, and to swear, by gods both old and new, that she will not be a deliverer of the gift of death. If a girl will promise these things, then a bargain has been made today."

Arya then interrupted Jon, and breathily informed him that when the Faceless Men had finally found her, she'd by that point resigned herself to death. When they offered her peace in exchange for certain promises, she had accepted immediately and wondered what god had intervened on her behalf. Arya had thanked him for what he had done and said that it meant a great deal to her that Jon had told her this directly, without prompting.

The three days Jon spent with Arya along the coast of the Jade Sea, even though they ultimately proved to be the last days they ever spent together, were among the happiest of Jon's life, soured only by his increasing worry at the length of his absence from King's Landing. It did not occur to him until after he was flying home that Arya had never inquired after Gendry, although there had never been a time that Jon had spoken with the Lord of Storm's End when the man had not asked for word of Arya.

Not so happy, however, was the day of Jon's return to King's Landing. He had been gone months longer than he had anticipated, and more importantly, months longer than he had promised his wife. Drogon had been spotted well before Jon's feet began to tread the halls of the Red Keep, and only cursory nervous greetings, and no celebration of any kind, met his return. The king had long had a habit of ordering that no disruptive gatherings of homage, obeisance, or pomp were to greet him as he moved about the city, but if asked, he would have admitted to having been somewhat hurt by the rather indifferent and cold reception given by those from whom he expected otherwise.

When he reached the Great Hall, it was entirely empty, save for Daenerys, waiting for him on the Iron Throne while wearing Aegon the Conqueror's crown. Jon, whose sense of foreboding had grown with every step he took after Drogon landed, realized at that moment that he should have taken more seriously the conversation he had with his wife prior to his departure.

The queen's litany of grievances, which commenced as soon as he was within earshot, was unrelenting, and the volume of her pronouncements seemed, in defiance of the laws of nature, to continuously increase every second that she spoke, until finally Jon began to puzzle as to why the windows in the room had not yet shattered from the force of her words. While the details of the complaints she offered covered a wide variety of subjects, the gist of the matter was simple: her husband had been gone for months, had broken his promise as to the duration of his excursion, and he had left her no answers for three children who needed their father, including an answer to the question of whether Jon was even still alive.

That same question had also been on the mind of the entire realm. The Seven Kingdoms had long behaved as though they had forgiven, or at least forgotten, Daenerys's reign of terror in the first days of her rule, and it was true that their opinion of her had steadily risen as her disposition and demeanor had improved, but it had always been made clear in ways both subtle and explicit that the realm greatly preferred that she rule jointly with her husband, Aegon Targaryen VI, as Jon was considered one of the most trustworthy, honorable, and dependable men in Westeros.

As Daenerys continued, she drifted from topic to topic, each more personal and wounding than the last. The barbs that sunk deepest were those pointing out how indifferent Jon had been to his wife's safety, and how callous she considered his lack of consideration for her long, deep-seated fear of being deposed or outright murdered by any number of people whose grudges were of such a nature that no amount of time would ever diminish them.

Daenerys also reminded Jon that she had once been kidnapped, in these very walls, right from under his nose, and that if it had happened again, he and Drogon would not be available to help search. Many doubts did she utter as to whether, henceforth, he was entitled to call himself a man after abandoning his wife, children, and royal responsibilities in such a way. Some of the strident criticisms Jon would admit were fair, others, particularly those referring to the unimpressive size of his manhood or its inability to function properly in the matters of the bedroom, he felt were unwarranted and inaccurate.