Fire And Blood

Anguish

Jon IV

Elation. That was what he felt whenever he saw them now. When he went to sleep and woke up in that small bed, their bodies a tangled mess, all he felt was elation. When they smiled at him, berated him, helped him, taught him – when they just looked at him, all he felt was elation.

Of course, he was aware that it was not love. He knew that. Jon loved them, yes, but he was not in love with them. They were beautiful and he had seen and touched them in places no other man ever would, but he still was not in love with them. That would be naive.

The marriage's purpose was both political and convenient, which was fine. There probably was also a sense of mysticism in his sister's and aunt's reasoning, considering their talk about dragon dreams and the blood of the dragon, which was fine as well. Love, however…

He loved both Rhaenys and Dany. However, he loved Rhaenys as his older sister and Dany as his younger aunt. There was no romance.

And yet, whenever he looked at them and they looked back and teased him with their smouldering looks and deep cleavages, he had to wonder. Could he really feel romantic affection for Rhaenys and Dany? Would that even be so bad any longer? After all, he had inseminated them both multiple times now. What would falling for his sister and aunt even be at this point compared to what he had already done with them?

Was it an increased affection caused by them consummating their relationship – their marriage? Or was it him seeing them for what they were? Was it him seeing them for the beautiful and strong women they were?

Was it even important? He felt true joy these past few days since they had been wed. Were details here and there important? Were the intricacies of his feelings important right now?

He didn't think so.

Many things had changed, yet many things remained the same, after all. Dany still took the lead in their relationship, mothering and guiding them. Rhaenys still couldn't help herself with her sharp tongue and he still liked to think and brood about things. The only difference was that they were closer in every way now.

"What are you doing?" Rhaenys asked him in Valyrian when she joined him by the sitting room's table.

He looked at her, smiling brightly, which she returned with a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

She sat next to him, wrapped her arms around his right arm and rested her head against his shoulder. His sister had become so much more affectionate and their relationship had grown by leaps and bounds.

"I am –"

"In Valyrian, little brother."

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "I am reading my uncle's last letter."

"Why?" she asked, switching back to the Common Tongue.

"Just thinking. And worrying. Your uncle has said often enough how dangerous a place the Red Keep is and…" He shook the letter in his hand for emphasis. "This knowledge paints a huge target on his back. It is good that he knows this and that he immediately informed us, but I would rather he stepped down from his position and moved back to Winterfell."

Rhaenys did not say anything at first. "I wish I could give you words of comfort, but they would ring hollow."

"I know." He placed the letter on the table, slowly and gently. "If word comes out of this, then Stannis Baratheon will surely claim the throne."

"They can claim all they want and kill each other over it for all I care." She moved her head from his shoulder and gave him a fierce look. "You are the true heir. You are the true king. Everyone else...they are just pretenders, liars and thieves."