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“Why do I have to marry her?” Jon asked at last.
He had been quiet when Daenerys had read the received raven out to her trusted council, remained quiet as they discussed how trustworthy the message was and then, finally, if the marriage really was suitable. Jon hadn’t said a word as they discussed his fate in front of him because Daenerys was already irritated from her ships being delayed and causing a fuss when she had good news wasn’t worth it.
Daenerys smiled at him now. An almost loving smile that an aunt would give her nephew. Sometimes, he was reminded of Dany before her dragons. The girl who wanted her home, her tree and the red door. Sometimes, he still saw glimpses of her in there.
But then there were the times he would go to his chambers and no matter how hard he scrubbed would smell the ash on him, would taste it in his throat. Necessary, she said. They were our enemies, she reminded him. And, their words were Fire and Blood after all. Still, Jon wasn’t sure he could ever stand above someone and reign fire on them if he had been the one to walk out of the flames with three dragons.
“I know a bastard girl is not a match worthy of a Targaryen but it is necessary. We need as many allies as we can get.”
“Why can’t we stay here?”
“My throne is in Westeros.”
“You are a Queen here,” he argued vehemently. “Why go back there? After what happened? Why would anyone want us? Dany, we’re…”
“Don’t call me that,” she snarled, eyes flashing.
“Sorry,” he sighed, looking back across the ocean. “I just… I just want to settle.”
“Well, we have settled. For a wife,” Daenerys teased, her previous anger gone as quickly as it had come. She reached over and patted his hand. “Once she has a couple of heirs, we can talk about other arrangements.”
“Other arrangements?” Jon questioned, frowning.
“When you want to marry someone else, we’ll make it happen,” she clarified before stepping away. She paused, turning back to look at him. “But, for now, you will marry Alayne Stone, Jon. That’s an order from your queen.”
***
“I don’t understand,” she mumbled, staring at the scroll her father had given her.
“Well, a prince is a better match than Harry. Though I cannot promise he will be as handsome or charming.”
Alayne frowned, remembering her first meeting with Harry and how he was anything but charming. But, that wasn’t the point she was curious about. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to pursue marriage for herself?”
“Indeed, it would, normally,” Petyr commented lightly, smiling at her as though she had done something to make him immensely proud for pointing out such a thing.
“But my spies tell me she is barren. Her hopes for her house lie with her nephew. So, I made sure to pledge my stakes. She has the Iron Islands and Dorne behind her but I’m the only one able to provide her with a future for the survival of her house. She needs you otherwise there is no point to her conquering if she's going to let her house die out.”
“Won’t Tyrion and Varys wonder about you having a daughter you’ve never mentioned before?”
“I’m sure they will,” Petyr replied coolly. “But their curiosity will keep them from saying anything. Varys will know there is a girl here, whether they are my daughter or not. He’ll know I have someone. And he’ll want to know who.”
“And when he sees me,” Alayne prompted. “What will happen then? When he and Tyrion recognise me?”
“You’ll tell them the truth,” Petyr said simply. “Of how I rescued you, how you had to pretend to be my daughter to avoid Cersei. Use those pretty eyes of yours to gain sympathy. I've told you how men are simple creatures, Alayne. Your former husband and Varys will not hand you over to Cersei, nor allow your identity to be revealed to her. You will be Alayne until the time is right, until Cersei is dead.”
“Varys isn’t technically a man,” she pointed out. “You said he…”
“No, well some feminine charms he will be immune to,” Petyr agreed. “But he has always claimed to have been on the side of the innocent. And you are innocent, my dear.”
She nodded slowly, took a breath.
“Is it true Daenerys has three dragons?”
Petyr chuckled. “Why do you think I’m eager to make an alliance with her?”
“And…if I marry him…” Alayne began, taking a breath to steady her rapidly beating heart. “When I marry him, I’d have to go back to the capital with him.”
“Yes. And then to Dragonstone, most likely. Eventually.”
“But not Winterfell,” she clarified, meeting his eyes at last. Petyr smiled an almost pitying smile and it made her want to shrink back, mqde her want to run back to her chambers and hide beneath her covers. “I won’t be going to Winterfell.”
“No,” he said slowly, leaning forward, his smile growing more sinister. “At least, not for as long as you’re married to him.”
Alayne’s gaze flickered to the side, finding a home on the small fly on the windowsill. It was jumping up, hitting itself against the glass looking for an escape. She knew the feeling well, able to see freedom right outside but unable to get there. Her eyes moved to the door, still closed as when she had been told to do. But even when it opens again, the fly would likely keep throwing itself against the window than take the path that was obvious, the one that had opened right before their eyes.
“You do know what I’m saying Alayne, don’t you?” Petyr pressed gently, reaching for her hand.
She met his eyes, forced a smile. A dutiful, trusting smile. “Of course.”
***
Westeros was everything and nothing like what he had thought it would be.
But he supposed that might be because they weren’t actually on the mainland yet but rather Dragonstone, the seat of their ancestors. Jon felt nothing as he stepped onto the sands, this wasn’t home anymore than the free cities had been. Any more than Qarth, Yunkai, Astapor or Meereen had been. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to belong anywhere, he thought solemnly.
Daenerys was smiling, head tilted towards the sun. A woman confident in her destiny and her belonging. She knew she was meant to be here and in that moment Jon wished he had ever felt so sure about anything, felt sure of a purpose other than trailing after his aunt and fulfilling alliances for her.
Mounted cavalry lined the beach before them, white flag bright behind them. Daenerys turned to give them her attention at last, her smile now polite and demure, enough to hide the fact she was still frightened of being betrayed, ready for anything to happen. Drogon screeched, flying low enough to make his curls flap around his ears from his beating wings.
The men remained still and if not for the slightly tightened grips on their spears Jon might have believed they weren’t scared of the dragon at all.
He glanced at Rhaegal, the dragon he had bonded with. He was already perched upon the cliffs above, watching silently. He didn’t screech or snarl. He was always the last to breathe fire when ordered to. He was as dangerous as any dragon and Jon only rode him when necessary, when Daenerys ordered him to ride at her side. But Jon liked to think he had tamed him a little bit. He would never suggest to Daenerys that the other two dragons should have been given more attention to their actions long before now.
A tall man dismounted his horse and approached them, his smile as polite as Daenerys'. Jon glanced at Varys and Tyrion standing behind his aunt, looking at this man before them.
Petyr Baelish they had called him. They had known him in Westeros, had said If he had the Knights of the Vale under his command then he was an ally they needed. They hadn’t said much else about him or the daughter Jon was to marry.
“Welcome to Westeros Your Grace,” Petyr greeted, bowing low. His smile grew when he straightened again. “Or, as close as it comes.”
“Thank you, Lord Baelish,” Daenerys replied, eyes scanning the men behind Petyr. “How many Knights of the Vale do you command in total?”
“Twenty thousand.”
Daenerys nodded. “That is what Tyrion and Varys told me. Good.”
“My daughter is inside,” Petyr said, gesturing towards the towering stone steps that led to the keep. He turned to Jon, inclining his head respectfully. “She is excited to meet you, Prince Jon. I hope she will please you.”
“Thank you,” Jon replied, unsure what he was meant to say. Daenerys turned to him.
“Shall we go then?” she asked, eyes sparkling with her teasing and Jon resisted the urge to scowl. He forces himself to remain tall and calm, like a prince should be and he nodded at the order.
The steps seemed to go on forever. And when they finally reached the top he looked out across the sea, wondering if he could see Essos from here but he supposed it was too far, even on the clearest morning as this it wasn’t there. He would never see the continent that had been his home for eighteen years again. He looked to Daenerys but she was already following Petyr inside the keep, not a single glance back to him or across the sea. She had already moved on.
Petyr Baelish’s daughter was in the war council room, seated by the large stone map of Westeros. She rose slowly as they entered, stooped into a flawless curtsey. Her dark hair tumbled over one shoulder as she bowed her head respectively.
“Your Grace,” she murmured, angled towards Daenerys.
“Rise,” Daenerys chimed, voice soft as a mother. Alayne glanced up and Jon felt his breath catch at the blue of her eyes. He’d never seen such a colour of eyes as bright and beautiful.
“May I present my daughter, Alayne Stone,” Petyr commented, stepping forward to take his daughter’s hand and leading her before Jon.
“I am honoured,” Jon replied, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss against her skin. “Jon Targaryen, my lady.”
Her cheeks darkened, her eyes skittered away shyly and he saw her press her lips together as though to keep her emotions in check.
For the first time Jon is sure of something. Sure of two things.
That he was going to be a worthy husband to her.
And that, that he was finally going to belong somewhere.
By her side.