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

Chapter 44: Jon Snow

~ Blood and Fire ~

Jon Snow stood at the long table in the war room of Winterfell, staring down at the map of Westeros spread before him. His fingers traced the jagged coastline, following the route they would take to King's Landing. The lines on the map felt like the lines of a wound, something deep and raw that had festered for far too long. The Red Keep, a fortress of ancient stone and tyranny, loomed large in his thoughts. Daenerys was determined to take it by storm, to make a show of force so overwhelming that no one could ever doubt her claim. But Jon knew the cost of such a decision—the blood that would spill, the lives that would be lost.

The flicker of firelight from the hearth cast shadows over the room, dancing across the faces of those gathered around him. Daenerys stood at the head of the table, regal and fierce, her silver hair gleaming like molten steel. Tyrion and Sansa flanked her, their expressions tense. Arya leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, her gaze sharp as ever.

The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.

"We attack at dawn," Daenerys said, her voice cold and decisive. "We will take the Red Keep."

Jon felt the weight of her words settle in his chest like a stone. He could see the fire in her eyes, the relentless ambition that burned beneath her calm exterior. But he could also see the fear—fear that if she didn't act swiftly and ruthlessly, everything she had fought for would slip through her fingers.

Tyrion shifted beside her, his hand resting on the map. "Your Grace," he began carefully, "a direct assault on King's Landing will lead to massive casualties. Civilians, innocents—"

"Cersei has already proven she cares nothing for innocents," Daenerys interrupted, her voice sharp. "She'll use them as shields, hide behind their suffering. We must strike quickly and decisively. The longer we wait, the more time she has to prepare."

Jon glanced at Tyrion, who gave him a look that begged for support. He felt the pull of his duty as Warden of the North, the desire to protect his people, his army. But he also felt the weight of his loyalty to Daenerys. She was his queen, the woman he had pledged to stand beside, the woman he had married. And yet, there was a growing knot of unease in his chest, something that tightened with every word she spoke.

"A siege might give us the advantage," Jon said, his voice steady but cautious. "We can cut off their supplies, weaken their defenses. The longer we hold the city, the less blood will be shed."

Daenerys's gaze shifted to him, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. "And give Cersei the chance to rally more forces? To solidify her hold on the people of King's Landing? No." She shook her head. "The Red Keep is a symbol of her power. We take it, and we take her."

Sansa, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. "Our men need rest," she said, her tone calm but firm. "We've just fought a war against the dead. They're exhausted. If we rush into another battle, we risk losing more than we can afford."

Jon glanced at his sister. Sansa's face was composed, but there was a tightness around her mouth, a hardness in her eyes that told him she was ready to challenge Daenerys if it came to that. Arya, standing behind her, looked even more ready.

"We have no time to rest," Daenerys replied, her voice growing colder. "Every day we wait is a day Cersei grows stronger. I will not risk my claim for the sake of hesitation."

Jon felt the tension rising in the room, felt the unspoken words hanging between them like a blade ready to fall. He knew that Sansa and Arya had never fully trusted Daenerys, that they viewed her as an outsider, a conqueror who had come to claim the North as part of her empire. But he also knew that Daenerys wasn't wrong. Cersei was dangerous, cunning, and the longer they waited, the more likely it was that she would find a way to turn the tide in her favor.