The Iron Thorn | Theon Greyjoy

59.

Massey

Missandei's voice echoed loudly and proudly throughout the mostly empty hall.

   "You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains."

   Admittedly, much of the introduction given fell upon me in a state of distraction. As I listened to the multitude of titles thrown our way, I kept my head forward out of respect, but my eyes wondered across the grand hall. It was dark. Bleak, even, but it was beautiful. The larger than life doors we'd been taken through led straight to her seat— rather, throne. The Queen sat with her head high and Dothraki guards on either side of her.

   After Missandei had finished, Jon and Ser Davos exchanged a look laced with confusion.

   "This is Jon Snow," Davos added a moment later. "He's King in the North."

   "Thank you for traveling so far, my lord," Daenerys said after a moment. Her voice was soft, almost soothing. She was a beauty beyond compare. It was hard to imagine such a delicate thing on dragonback. "I hope the seas weren't too rough." 

   "The winds were kind, Your Grace," Jon replied.

   "Apologies," Davos interjected. "I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know, Jon Snow is King in the North, Your Grace. He's not a lord."

   My heartbeat picked up, suddenly feeling smaller and more vulnerable with just the two of them beside me in a room full of men loyal to their Queen.

   She went on to correct them, reminding us that Jon's ancestors once knelt to her ancestors. To which Jon just as coyly reminded her that oath only held until her grandfather put his to the flame, along with his uncle. The Queen, much to our surprise, rather immediately pleaded a case for forgiveness. Though, the apology was swiftly followed by her telling him to bend the knee, making any words before the command feel like they were simply coated in sugar to sweeten the blow.

   "Together, we will save this country from those who seek to destroy it."

   "You're right," Jon announced after looking around the room. "You're not guilty of your father's crimes. And I am not beholden to my ancestor's vows."

   "Then, why are you here?" She asked sharply, dropping any pleasantry from both her voice and her gaze.

   "Because I need your help, and you need mine."

   Though things grew a bit more tense in his efforts, Jon went on to explain the threat of the Walkers. She did not believe him at first, like the rest of us, then going on to give a speech about her efforts and troubles thus far that was so harrowing I nearly dropped to my knee on the spot. I wish I could say I had a stronger reserve, but the only thing that kept me from submitting was the fact that I was there to stand behind Jon. To me, it mattered not who sat upon a chair half a world away, and I hated the Lannisters for what they had done to my father. She seemed as good a Queen as any, but it was about more than that now. At least, it was for the Northerners.

   Ser Davos defended Jon staunchly, letting it slip that Jon had taken a knife to the heart for his people, giving the whole room pause. Lord Tyrion did his very best to convince Jon to pledge his sword to Daenerys, but Jon was growing impatient. He said that the North trusted him and him alone as their leader, and that he could not bend the knee. I was holding my breath involuntarily at the tension when a quiet, bald man waltzed past us all and up to the Queen herself, whispering some news in her ear. She turned back to Jon, her polite tone returning as she told us that we must be tired after our journey and that she'd have baths drawn in our rooms for us. But, it didn't exactly come across as hospitality.