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"Jon."
The sound of his name startled him. Jon looked up from the crackling fire, to see Tormund holding his arm out. He spotted a small brown package in the wildlings hand.
"This came for you."
Jon frowned, moving his hands from under his cloak and extending them towards his friend. "Came for me?"
Tormund grunted with a nod, and shoved the package towards Jon.
"From who?" Jon mumbled, staring at the package with interest. He could still feel Tormund's gaze on him. Tormund shrugged in reply, turning his back and walking out of Jon's tent.
Jon began unwrapping the package, scared yet curious as to what he might find. He squinted at the object inside the wrapping. It was a small brown leather book, in almost pristine condition. It had a thin rope ribbon running all the way around, tied into a neat knot at the side of the book. Jon fiddled with the knot, before opening the book to the first page.
His heart dropped in his chest as he focused on the contents inside. He slammed the book shut quickly and looked up to the top of the tent. Tears sprung to his eyes and his throat tightened so much he could barely breathe.
It was her writing. Dany's writing.
A tear ran down Jon's cheek and dropped from his chin, landing on the corner of the book and rolling off onto the floor. Jon blinked until his vision cleared, breathing deeply through his nose. He looked back down to the book, daring once more to prise it open. There wasn't many words on the front page. Just a simple statement.
It is okay. It is yours to read.
Was she talking to him? What was it he was allowed to read? Jon turned the page, and began reading with bated breath. After glancing over the first sentence, he realised exactly what this was. It was her diary. He didn't even know she kept one. He felt strange reading her most personal inner thoughts. It was wrong. He told himself to shut the book and bury it somewhere so that no one would ever find it, but he felt his eyes drifting over her neat looping handwriting, and he couldn't stop himself.
Our arrival at Winterfell was different to what I had imagined. Jon's family do not appear to be very fond of me. The reception from his sister, Sansa, was not pleasant. I had hoped her and I could find common ground. We have both experienced similar things in our life, and yet, I feel we are already at odds with one another despite having only just met. His brother, Bran, was equally unwelcoming. Jon says Bran has changed since the last time he saw him. I reminded him that we have all changed over the years, but Jon said this was different. It was as if Bran looked like his brother, but acted nothing like the boy he was knew. Bran told me something. Something about my sweet and loving Viserion. I have not quite processed what he said. I do not wish for it to be true even though I know it is. I have not had the chance to meet Jon's other sister, Arya. She was the one I hoped to get along with the most. Jon told me that she admired Visenya Targaryen as a child. Hopefully when we meet, it will turn out better than my meeting with Sansa.
Jon stared at the words with sadness. She was so nervous about meeting his family. He remembered how she had clung to him in her chambers as she voiced her worries. She had asked him what she should say, and asked if his sisters would like her. He had told her they would, eventually. They would see the Dany he knew and loved soon enough. They never did. They never gave her a chance.
Jon and I went for a ride on Drogon and Rhaegal today. My children have taken so well to him. It's odd. I don't quite know what to make of it. I have never known them take to someone as they have with Jon. Things with his family have not improved much. I haven't been officially introduced to Arya. She is always off doing her own thing, and Jon says it is best if she is left to it. The more I explore Winterfell, the more I feel unwelcome. I have tried smiling and engaging with the people here, but they do not seem very responsive to my attempts to speak with them. I know what they think of me. I know they all judge me for my name. I am simply "The Mad King's Daughter" here. Still, I wish they would see beyond that. I am not my Father. I really wanted things to work out between myself and the Northerners. Not just for the future, but because I know Jon's people mean a lot to him, and he means a lot to me.
Dany's words made Jon's eyes well up. She had tried so hard with the Northerners. He saw it. He saw all she did for them, and all she gave, and they gave her nothing in return. He would give anything to start again. He would stand up to them this time, and tell them to respect their Queen. He failed her right from the beginning.
Jon is avoiding me, and I don't understand why. He never came to my chambers last night, which is something he has been doing each night since we arrived here. I was worried when I woke up to find he wasn't there. After I found him later that day, he made sure we were never left alone, and wouldn't look at me properly. If that was not enough, Ser Jaime Lannister arrived at Winterfell. For a moment, Sansa and I agreed that he should not be trusted, but then Lady Brienne spoke for him. Sansa appears to have complete faith in Lady Brienne, and so Jaime has been trusted to stay. He now roams the halls of Winterfell. The man who murdered my Father and tried to kill me will rest not far from where I sleep. He would not kill me. Would he? I would never admit it to anyone, but I am frightened. Especially now it looks like I will be sleeping alone at night. The more time I spend in the North, the worse I feel. I am an outsider here. I do not belong here. I need to speak with Jon, desperately. I cannot write down here the details of the matter in fear of someone reading it and using it against me. I do not understand what is wrong with him. I thought everything was going well with us. Perfect even. Now I do not know what to think. Did I do something wrong? The battle against the dead is quickly approaching. I am worried that we will not make it. What if I can never speak to him again? If I do perish, perhaps it is better we don't speak before. It might make things easier for him.
It wouldn't have made it easier for Jon. If he had lost Dany that night, it would have meant the last conversation they had was about his true identity. He knew she was shocked, and perhaps even threatened by his revelation, and he wanted to talk to her more about it. He should have told her sooner. Why didn't he tell her sooner? Why did he avoid her and make her feel so low about herself? He loved her, and he didn't tell her enough. Now it was far too late.
I don't know where to begin. It has been a few days since the battle and I am still alive, which is something. I am exhausted. Both my body and my mind. Ser Jorah is gone. He died saving me in the battle against the dead. He died in my arms and I held onto him for a long time afterwards. No one came to find us for a while. I was glad. I wanted to spend some time with him, and say goodbye properly. I often wish I could have returned his love, but it would have been on false pretenses. That would have been unfair of me to do. He was there for me. Right until the very end. There are not many people I could say would do the same.
Jon wondered if Dany knew he would die for her too. If it came to it, he would have given his life for her. Yet ironically, he was the one who ended her life. It wasn't that simple. He did it to save the lives of his family, and all the people in the world that Dany might have killed next. It was right what he did. Jon had lost count of the times he had told himself that he was right, but it never felt right. It never got any easier. The regret just grew with each day. No matter how many times he told himself he did the right thing, if he had the chance to do things again, he wasn't so sure he would do the same.
Just before the battle began, I found out the reason for Jon's recent absence in my life. I can hardly think about it. I do not wish to think about it. How can I accept it? Everything I have fought for. Everything I have known. It could be taken away in a second by the man I love. It cannot be true. Yet why would he lie to me? I could see in his eyes when he told me. Truth. Honesty. He wasn't lying. I should be happy. I am happy, I think. It is clear he is not. For whatever reason, he cannot see past this new information. At the feast after the battle, I saw his people gathered around him. I saw the love and admiration in their eyes. I saw the future. What it will be like when people find out the truth. I will be cast aside. I will not be loved. I went to speak with Jon after the feast. He kissed me, and for a moment, I believed everything would be okay. Then he stopped, and my heart felt crushed. I asked him not to tell his sisters of his true parentage, but I know he will. He values them more than me, and who can blame him. They are the family he grew up with. I am the family he never knew. If word does spread, I fear I do not have long left. I will be disposed of. The people will turn against me. Sansa will do everything she can to see me gone and Jon on the throne. I don't know what to do anymore. I used to have so much faith in myself, but with each passing day it wanes more and more. It is replaced by a rising hatred towards myself. Since I set foot on Westeros everything has gone wrong. I am losing too much.
Why did he keep leading her on and pushing her away? What good came from that? He couldn't help himself when he kissed her, but he should have tried harder. He remembered that night, after he broke their kiss. He remembered the hurt reflected in her eyes, and the way she had looked at him like her heart was breaking. He did that. He made her feel unloved and unwanted. Dany knew he would tell his sisters. She could have stopped him. She could have killed him if she so wished. That would have kept him quiet. Yet she didn't. She had every opportunity to eliminate the threat to her throne, and she didn't. Why?
It has been a while, but I have not been able to allow myself to write about it. Writing it down in ink makes it real, and I do not wish for it to be real. I know it is real. Rhaegal is gone. One moment he was flying beside Drogon and I, and the next, he wasn't. I miss him. The ache in my heart has only grown. It ached for Viserion, and now Rhaegal too. I am losing my children. I am failing at being a Mother. How did I ever believe I could be a Mother? I can't. What sort of Mother am I when my children keep dying on my watch? Rhaegal and Viserion, my sweetlings, I miss you. I would give anything to have you back. Anything.
He never asked her about Rhaegal. He was stupid for not asking her. The first time he saw her after her childs death, they barely spoke, and the next thing he knew, he was heading to Kings Landing. He never once stopped to ask how she was coping with things. If she wanted to talk. She was a great Mother to her children. He should have told her more often. He should have said so many more things to her. Jon knew how much her children meant to her. He couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a child, never mind two.
My heart can't take much more. I can't take much more. My friend, my best friend. She is gone, and with her, another piece of my heart has broken. I don't know how it still beats in my chest. My gentle and innocent Missandei. She followed me without question. She was always by my side. Her smile always greeted me when I called for her in the morning, and she always made sure to bid me goodnight at the end of every day. She was kind. She was compassionate. She was everything to me. I watched as she died. I wish I had closed my eyes. I keep seeing her death all the time, replaying in my mind as if it is happening over and over again. Her last word to me was "Dracarys", and I know deep down what she meant by that word. I hear that word in my nightmares. I hear Missandei shouting it. I hear it tumble from the lips of the people who I have lost. I hear myself shouting it to Drogon before we burn down everyone and everything that has ever hurt us. It is taking more restraint than normal to stop myself doing something that I may live to regret. I wonder what the people of King's Landing think of me? If it is anything like the North, I am doubtful as to whether I will have a chance of love from them. After everything I did for the North, I was still seen as an outsider. I still lacked love from the people. If the rest of Westeros is the same, what should I do? How do I win over the people if they do not love me? Lady Olenna once told me to be a Dragon. I regret my choice to ignore her. Things could have turned out quite different had I listened to her in that moment. I wonder how many of those I loved would still be here.
Jon never asked about Missandei either. Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he just mention her and say some kind words about her to Dany. It might have been pointless, but at least she would know he cared. He didn't know Dany had watched her friend die. He didn't know she had seen such a horror. That's something she would never be able to erase from her mind, no matter what she did. Jon could tell from her words that she was struggling. It's clear she was fighting a battle in her mind. No one helped her fight that battle. Jon should have helped. If he had helped her fight, maybe things would have ended differently.
I have nothing to write. My days are blending into one. I only know another has passed from the sunset and sunrise. I am hungry. I dare not eat the food brought to me. The spider, he is trying to poison me. Of that I am sure. I am so hungry. Sometimes my stomach clenches so tightly and the pangs ache so much I almost break and reach for the food left outside my chambers. I cannot risk it. I need to eat. I need something to eat. I need to think of my future. I cannot die yet. I am so scared. What if the food kills me? I need to talk to someone, but I don't want to see anyone. I would give anything to be back in Essos right now, with my family, and my people. This isn't my home. I thought it was but it isn't. My home is across the narrow sea. I should have stayed there.
Varys was poisoning her food? He felt anger bubble up inside him at the thought. Any sympathy he had for the man quickly disappeared. There was so much he didn't know. So much that remained unspoken between him and Dany. Jon sighed as he thought about her staying in Essos and never coming to Westeros. One the one hand, she would most likely be safe and somewhat happy. Her family and friends would probably still be alive. On the other hand, she would never know Jon, and the threat of the Night King and his army would still be looming over them all. That was probably a good thing for her. Dany didn't need him or Westeros, but Westeros needed her. He dreaded to think what may have happened if the Night King reached the wall and they didn't have Dany or her armies. He wouldn't be here breathing in the chilly morning air, that's for sure.
I plan to execute Varys. He has been writing scrolls containing the information about Jon. He is still poisoning my food. I am still hungry. I am so hungry. I can feel my ribs through my skin, more prominent than they should be. My head hurts constantly. My chest hurts. I worry for my health, and all that goes with it. They worry for my mind. My mind is okay. It hurts. I don't know if I am okay. I need food. Perhaps I should worry as well. No. They are wrong. It is the hunger. It is clouding my judgement. It is eating away at my mind. I am alright. I will be alright. Varys must be stopped. I am not safe with him around. No one is safe. I should blame Jon Snow rather than Varys. He is the one who told his sisters; one of them told my Hand; he then told Varys; he then planned to spread it around the Seven Kingdoms. I do blame him. It is all his fault. Yet I can't bring myself to hate him, no matter how hard I try. Tyrion told me that he and Varys want what I want. A better world. But that is a world with Jon Snow on the throne. Would that be a better world? A world without me on the throne would not be better. I must take the Iron Throne. I must take what is mine. Please. I need help. I need you back. Please.
Jon could almost hear her erratic thoughts from reading her words. She wasn't thinking clearly. She was hurting so much, and there was no one there for her. When was the last time someone hugged her? When was the last time someone told her they were there for her? He felt tears run down his cheeks. She was crying out for help but no one could hear her. Was she talking about him? Did she need him back? She really believed that everything would be okay when she got the Throne. It was all she had left to focus on. He would give anything to go back in time and give her the help she so desperately needed, and the hug she needed even more.
He rejected me tonight. Just as he had done previously. I should not have hoped for more. I should have known better than to think he would take me in his arms and comfort me. Yet I still hoped. When he kissed me, my heart swelled. I love him. I cannot stop my feelings for him. Why does he not want me? Am I so broken? I thought everything was going to be okay. He told me he loved me, but he still pushed me away.
The tears in Jon's eyes made it hard for him to carry on reading. He did love Dany. He loved her so much. He was confused, and still reeling from the shock of learning who he truly was. He was too wrapped up in his own feelings to think about her. He should have considered her. Dany was his family, just like Sansa and Arya, and he was her last living relation that they knew of. What kind of family was he? He betrayed her, and killed her. Jon decided it would have been better if she never met him.
We leave for Kings Landing in the morning. I am feeling a bit better. I have managed to eat something, and feel some of my strength returning. I can focus on getting the rest of my strength back after the war. This will all be over soon. I will be on the throne. It has to be fear. All my love is gone. I have no love here. All those I have loved are gone. Jon doesn't love me. Despite everything, I still love him. I want him to be with me when I rule the Seven Kingdoms. I only hope that we survive this Last War, so that I can tell him what I have wanted to tell him for so very long. He should know. I have been too afraid to tell him before. I didn't want him to be with me out of duty rather than love. I won't force him to be with me. I will ask him once more to break the wheel with me. I will ask after the war. Maybe then he will be able to think clearer. Maybe then he will return my love. Regardless of his answer, I will tell him the truth. One way or another.
Jon reached up to wipe his eyes. He could hear her voice in his head; asking him to be with her, and break the wheel with her. He gave her false hope before he stuck the dagger through her heart. He thought it would be better that way, but was it really? He had told her she was his Queen, now and always, but she still died knowing it was him that had killed her. It was probably worse that he made false promises before stabbing her. Jon shook his head as he re-read the last few sentences, wondering what truth was that she wanted to tell him.
He flicked through the empty pages of the diary, realising that was the last thing she wrote. That was the last time she recorded her life. The last page of her story. He felt his heart clenching in his chest at the thought of her never writing anything again. Never living any more days to write about. His breathing halted as he reaches the back page and saw more writing.
Jon, my love.
He let out a sob and squeezed his eyes shut. It must be a letter of sorts. She wrote this to him. Somehow her writing directly to him is almost too much to handle. She would have wrote this before the Last War. Before she knew what he would do to her. He opened his eyes and waited for his blurry, teary vision to clear so he could focus on the words in front of him.
I have ensured this diary will find its way to you should something happen to me in the Last War. I never intended for you to read it, so I extend my apologies if anything you have read upsets you. I hope this gave you some insight of my feelings. I know I don't always express them as much as you would like me to.
It is hard for me to believe that if you are reading this, it means I am not by your side. I have to tell you something Jon, and I am sorry I did not tell you sooner. I tried, but it never seemed the right time to do so. I promised myself I would tell you after the war, and I intend to carry out that promise, which is why I am writing this, in case I am unable to tell you in person.
Jon, you gave me the greatest gift of all. You gave me life. A life I never believed I could make. A child. Our child. I am sorry you had to find out this way. Please forgive me for keeping it a secret. We did not speak much of children, but I know you would have loved our child just as much as I do, or rather as much as I did. It is strange talking about myself in past tense.
I am quite certain she would have been a girl. I know you may think it silly, but I just had a feeling. You would have made such a great Father, and I regret we will miss out on so many experiences with our daughter. I wish I could have protected her better. I am sorry that we never got to meet her. I know she would have made you just as happy as she has me since I found out. I imagined her with your eyes and my hair, and I am certain you would have liked the name I decided on. It was the one you mentioned a few moons ago, when I asked what you would like to call your daughter, should you ever be blessed with one. I said I would have chosen a more Targaryen name, but the more I think about it, I can't imagine calling our daughter anything but the name you chose.
I wish you a long and happy life, and I hope you finally find the peace you deserve, wherever that may be, and with those you choose to share your life with. I will always be with you, as long as you want me to be. I will always be listening for you when you need me, even if you can't see me. When the day comes for you to join us, we will be waiting for you, if you want us to be.
I am yours. Now and always.
Dany.
Jon stared at the letter until his eyes began to sting from the lack of blinking. He remained still for a while, unsure of how much time passed.
He closed the diary, and stumbled over to the place where he slept, before he fell to his knees.
Pulling the diary close to his chest, he laid down on the floor, and began to cry for all he had lost, and all he would never have.