A Song of Fire & Snow (GOT)(Jon Snow)

Chapter 30: Jon Snow

~The Weight of Honor~

Jon Snow stood at the edge of the camp, his eyes scanning the darkened horizon as the cold wind from the North ruffled his black cloak. His thoughts were as turbulent as the gusts around him. The events in the Dragonpit were still fresh in his mind, the weight of what he had said, and the consequences of it, pressing on him like a mountain.

He had bent the knee to Daenerys, not because of politics, but because of necessity. And now, with the threat of the Night King looming over them all, every decision he made carried the potential for catastrophe. But today, he hadn't just declared his loyalty to Daenerys. He had complicated things by hinting at a bond between himself and Alarys Martell, Oberyn's fierce and secretive sister. And now, despite his intentions, he had no idea how Alarys felt about it—if she had even understood the gravity of his words.

His hands tightened into fists, and he let out a low sigh, turning back toward the tent where Daenerys and Tyrion waited. It was time to face them. He had made his choice, spoken his truth, and now he would have to deal with the fallout.

Inside the tent, tension hung thick in the air like a heavy fog. Daenerys stood near the map table, her silver hair flowing down her back as she leaned forward, staring at the board with such intensity that Jon thought she might burn it with her gaze alone. Tyrion paced nearby, his expression dark and stormy. When Jon entered, they both turned to him, their eyes filled with expectation, and beneath that, frustration.

"What in the seven hells were you thinking, Jon?" Tyrion started before Jon had even crossed the threshold, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "You didn't just throw away a tactical advantage. You've made things infinitely more complicated."

Jon felt the weight of Tyrion's words immediately, but he met the dwarf's eyes, refusing to back down. "What would you have had me do, Tyrion? Lie?"

"Yes!" Tyrion's shout was sharp, his fists clenched at his sides. "A lie. A small one, just enough to buy us some time. You've never heard of strategic deception? Cersei Lannister is a snake—one that can't be trusted—and you gave her a reason to dig in her heels. We needed her armies, or at least the illusion of cooperation."

Daenerys, who had been quiet until now, joined in, her voice softer but no less serious. "I agree with Tyrion, Jon. What you said may have been honorable, but this war isn't going to be won by honor alone. We need Cersei's forces, and we needed her to believe that she held leverage over you. Now, who knows what she's thinking?"

Jon felt a flicker of anger stir in his chest, but he kept it buried. "If we can't win this war without lies, then what kind of world are we fighting for?" His voice was firm, and he could see Tyrion's eyes narrow in response. "You think lying is going to help us defeat the Night King? Lying isn't a weapon we can use against him. And it's not a weapon we should be using against each other. I won't play those games."

Tyrion stepped closer, his eyes searching Jon's face as if he were trying to understand him. "Your father was honorable to a fault, Jon. You don't think that attitude might have contributed to his death?" His tone softened slightly, a rare show of vulnerability in the usually sharp-tongued Hand of the Queen. "I understand that you're trying to do what's right. But in war, there's no black and white. If you want to win, sometimes you have to get your hands dirty."

Jon's jaw tightened at the mention of his father, the memory of Ned Stark's execution flashing through his mind. He had thought about this before—whether his father's rigid honor had led to his downfall. But Jon had also seen what lies could do. Lies had torn the realm apart, led to betrayals, and had done nothing to stop the chaos that engulfed them.

"My father may have died because he refused to play the game," Jon said quietly, "but if no one is willing to speak the truth, then what is anyone's word worth? Lies won't help us win the coming battle. The Night King doesn't care about politics, and neither do the dead."