Jonerys

Proposal - continued

Part 2
I descend the damp stairwell of the fortress, making my way through the winding tunnels to the cells where Jon Snow and his advisor are being held.

Ser Jorah leads me, lighting sconces along the way. I can hear only drops of water escaping stone, and the sound of my slippers tapping against pavement. The air is cold and I can smell death and decay: it is no place for a king. As we near the cells, he opens the door and clears the way as I enter.

Jon Snow and Ser Davos both stand before me, their shackles clanging as they do. I notice Ser Davos' eye is swollen and Jon's hair loosened as though they have been handled roughly by my guards on route to the cell. Jon looks to me, defiantly for some time, before our silence is broken.

'You have my apologies for the manner in which you've been handled by my guards...' I concede. I turn to one of the Unsullied and command 'Gurogon Ser Davos, naejot zyhon tistalion. Feed ziryla se emagon se gienati tend ziryla.'

Jon attempts to stand in front of Ser Davos as the guard moves forward.  Jon stands his ground, protecting his friend until Ser Jorah intervenes. The two men stare each other down for a moment as Ser Jorah finally pushes past.

'No harm will come to him,' I confirm, 'I give you my word'.  With that, Jon stands aside as Ser Davos is lead from the cell and returned to his quarters. I turn to Jorah, not having to speak my request as he looks back to my prisoner once more before leaving Jon and I alone to discuss what has transpired.

'I apologise for the disturbance my advisor caused in your home, Your Grace. I beg your pardon for violating the guest right. It will not happen again. Davos was...not himself.'

'Please, we are past formalities now. You may call me, Daenerys. And I understand why Davos did what he felt he must. I have felt that pain at one point in my life, too....'

Jon looks at me, curiously. 'You lost a child?'

'Yes' I admit through a tired sigh, 'My son, Rhaego. He died in my womb before I could ever hold him. He was murdered by the same Witch who murdered my husband...'

Jon ponders my words for a short while, measuring the weight of them against the slender woman standing before him. He seemed troubled by hearing them, that I, a women of his same age, had known such hurt and carried such a grief. I see in his eyes, a reflection of the sadness I hold in mine.

'I am sorry, Daenerys. No mother should have to grieve her child. Nor a bride, her husband'.

'I executed her, Jon' my words cut through his instantly, confirming the brutality I am capable of. 'I committed an act akin to Lady Melisandre's, as retribution for a pain I'd suffered akin to Ser Davos.  I had the Witch bound to my husband's pyre. I stood in front of her as it was lit. And I watched her burn, for what she took from me....'

His face is a mixed expression of shock and inquiry. It was clear he did not think me capable of such things. It was clear he does not know who I really am.

'When I could no longer hear her screams, I walked into the same fire with three petrified eggs; the only thing of value I had left in my life. And I returned from the flames with three living dragons; the first born in centuries. I was reborn that day, too. The death of my enemy gave me new life, a new purpose...' I stumble as I try to explain it. Even saying it out loud sounds absurd.  I wait for Jon's reaction.

'If she did as you say, she received a just punishment....'

'Perhaps...' I reply, with a familiar sadness. 'But it was more than justice. It was revenge. I did what I had to, to heal from my grief. To survive. And in time, I've come to accept it. For without such grief and revenge: my dragons would not exist.  I, would not exist...'