A Song of Ash and Smoke | a continuation of A Song of Ice and Fire

𝐉𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐧

"Get up."

Jojen opened his eyes slowly, forcefully, to see leather boots stepping in front of him. The lace on one had come undone, and was trailing behind on the ground, scraping against the hardened dirt. Gods, his neck hurt. He looked up slowly to see Jaehaera standing above him, clad in black and staring down at him with an agonized scowl. 

"Get up, Jojen," she snapped. "That is an order."

Anger crept through him slowly as he sat up, his bones cracking. His muscles were stiff from months of little use, and he could feel the dirt caked against his skin, weighing on him. 

"I don't take orders from you," he retorted, his voice raspy and dull. "You left me here to rot."

"You committed treason against the Queen of the six realms," she spat. "Now get up."

He blinked, his vision blurry, then rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, pushing himself to his feet. He wanted to retort that he knew no queen other than his own royal mother, but Jojen knew it wouldn't be wise to provoke Jae further. Jaehaera looked over her shoulder, speaking in Valyrian, and a man stepped out from behind her, holding shackles. This man was familiar - dressed in black armor, a red sash draped over his shoulders. He was older and rugged, with shaggy brown hair and a full beard. Then Jojen recognized him - he was the man who kept guard over Danaerys Targaryen, always standing at her shoulder like an obedient dog. Another man was next to him, clad in black armor as well with bronze skin and a shaved head and face. He was the Lord Commander of her Queensguard, as far as Jojen could recollect - the same man who'd arrested Jojen and Tyrion. Yes, now he recalled them - Daario Naharis and Grey Worm. 

"Daario, if you would," Jaehaera commanded coldly. The bearded man stepped forward and grabbed Jojen's left hand, with a defiant glare that dared Jojen to refuse him. 

Jojen looked to Jae warily as he snatched his hand away and rubbed his wrist, before holding out both hands expectantly. "Jaehaera, what are you doing?"

"You will address her as princess," the bearded man said as he bound Jojen's wrists with the shackles. 

"It's fine, Daario," Jae sighed, before looking at Jojen. "Leave us. I'll walk with him."

The two men bowed to her silently and departed the cell, with the bald one throwing a warning glare over his shoulder as they did. Jaehaera jerked her head, her face serious and turned towards the open gate. Jojen stepped forward hesitantly, before she reached forward and grabbed the shackles pulling him out into the darkened hall of Dragonstone's crypt. Jojen stumbled forward wordlessly, unsure of what to say to the girl who'd spoken so little to him in the months since his arrival at Dragonstone. He thought of the night Tyrion was executed, when Danaerys had released him and left him to run to the beach, praying he'd find the boat she promised. And he had. It was Yara Greyjoy's men who'd returned him to Dragonstone, claiming that he'd set sail for the Stepstones. 

"You never told me why you didn't listen," Jaehaera murmured, as if she was reading his thoughts. "Why didn't you go straight to King's Landing?"

"I don't think your mother ever intended for me to return to King's Landing, Jaehaera," Jojen answered. "I was never trying to go to the Stepstones; my only thought in that moment was to return home."

Jaehaera stopped. "So, you believe my mother fostered some conspiracy to prevent you from leaving?"

"I think Danaerys wanted your forgiveness," he muttered, walking forward. "And she knew holding me here without reason would not earn her that."

Jae went silent. Jojen could see that she was conflicted, and though he did not want to care, he spoke once more. "Jaehaera, what troubles you?"

Jaehaera gave him a scathing look, but he could see the flash of hope in her eyes as she did - a small glimpse of the girl he'd grown up with beneath the hardened surface of a calculated princess. "What is it to you?"