The Queen of Flames (Sequel to 'The Demon of Winterfell') (On Hold)

Chapter Nineteen: True Love

When Emmelyne returned to the Dragonpit, it was quiet. Tyrion broke the silence, looking up at her. "Do you think Cersei would be pleased if I went to her?" he asked.
Emmelyne shrugged her shoulders. "I can't measure the queen's patience, but I know it's surely waning."
Tyrion looked at the dirt, then brushed past Emmelyne, leaving the Dragonpit. Emmelyne clasped her hands together behind her back, letting out a low sigh. She was quite surprised at Cersei's demeanor. At first glance, it would've appeared that she hadn't changed at all in the five years since Emmelyne had been gone. But it seemed that losing her children had truly changed something inside her.
Sandor moved toward Emmelyne's side, looking down at her. "What did you and Cersei speak about?" he asked.
"Children," Emmelyne replied. "Pregnancy. Madness. And Cersei when she was younger."
"Did you enjoy that?"
"No. Cersei is... interesting, to say the least. She truly believed that Joffrey could do nothing wrong."
Sandor's eyes went wide at that. "Really? How in the fuck could she believe that?"
"I don't know," Emmelyne answered. "She says that a mother can look past all of her children's flaws. Only see the good in them. I suppose I'll only understand that once my child is born."
"Five months."
"Five months."
Sandor took her hand, and she leaned against his side. "You promise I won't be forgotten?" he asked.
"I promise, Sandor," she said.
Emmelyne let her head rest on his shoulder. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you, too," Sandor replied.
Nearby, Jon was watching the pair. He was happy for Emmelyne. She was finally with Sandor, who she'd already admitted that she loved. But Jon couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy in his chest.
Emmelyne allowed her free hand to move to her stomach. She noted to herself that it was growing rather fast. Perhaps too fast. When Catelyn was four months pregnant with Rickon, her stomach was not this large. Not with Bran, or Arya, or Sansa, either. She hoped that it was not a problem. That her child was just large. She knew that people could be massive. People like Sandor. Gregor. Hodor.
She took in a deep breath that she didn't release for a long time. Emmelyne felt Sandor squeeze her hand comfortingly.
Everyone suddenly went quiet when Tyrion returned. They all gathered onto the platform, waiting for him to speak. Cersei followed, her maester, Jaime, The Mountain, and her guards still at her sides. Daenerys's group went stiff. "My armies will not stand down," Cersei stated. "I will not pull them back to the capital. I will march them north to fight alongside you in the Great War. The darkness is coming for us all. We'll face it together. And when the Great War is over, perhaps you'll remember I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you. I expect not."
She looked at Jaime. "Call our banners," she stated. "All of them."
Back at Dragonstone, everyone was meeting to look over plans. "If we have the Dothraki ride hard on the kingsroad, they'll arrive at Winterfell within the fortnight," Jon said.
"And the Unsullied?" Daenerys replied.
"We can sail with them to White Harbor, meet the Dothraki here on the kingsroad, then ride together to Winterfell."
"Perhaps you should ride to Winterfell, Your Grace," Jorah said. "You have many enemies in the North. Thousands fell fighting your father. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow. He'll see your silver hair on the kingsroad and know that one well-placed bolt will make him a hero. The man who killed the conqueror."
"It's your decision, Your Grace," Jon offered Daenerys. "But if we're going to be allies in this war, it's important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbor together, I think it sends a better message."
Emmelyne agreed with Jon. She did not speak up, but she certainly agreed.
There was a man that she did not know. The leader of the Unsullied. Dark skin. Bald, with dark eyes. He held himself with pride, not saying a word, simply observing.
Silence fell over the group for a moment, waiting for Daenerys to answer. "I've not come to conquer the North," she finally said. "I'm coming to save the North. We sail together."
Emmelyne smiled at Daenerys. Though she had not liked the Mother of Dragons at first, she seemed kinder than she was before.
Emmelyne left the map room with Jon and Davos, suddenly hearing footsteps behind them. "Jon, Emmelyne," Theon said. "Can I speak with you both?"
Jon let out a sigh. "All right," he said.
"Yes," Emmelyne agreed.
Davos nodded, turning and leaving the throne room. Theon stepped toward the pair. "What you did in King's Landing, Jon, what you said... you could've lied to Cersei about bending the knee to Daenerys. You risked everything to tell an enemy the truth," he said.
Jon shook his head slightly. "We went down there to make peace. And it seems to me we need to be honest with each other if we're going to fight together."
"You've always known what was right. Even when we were all young and stupid, you always knew. Every step you take... it's always the right step. "
"It's not. It may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you, it's not true. I've done plenty of things that I regret."
Theon shook his head. "Not compared to me, you haven't."
"No," Jon agreed. "Not compared to you."
Theon hesitated for a long time. He opened and closed his mouth, choosing his words carefully. He took a few more steps forward. "I always wanted to do the right thing," he said. "Be the right kind of person. But I never knew what that meant. It always seemed like there's... like there was an impossible choice I had to make. Stark or Greyjoy."
Jon closed the distance between, and they were nearly chest-to-chest. Emmelyne, fearing that Jon was going to hurt Theon, grabbed his arm tightly.
"Our father was more of a father to you than yours ever was," Jon stated.
"He was," Theon nodded."
"And you betrayed him. Betrayed his memory."
"I did."
Jon let out a sigh. "But you never lost him," he said. "He's a part of you. Just like he's a part of me."
"But the things I've done..." Theon said.
"It's not my place to forgive you for all of it," Jon said. "But what I can forgive, I do. You don't need to choose. You're a Greyjoy... and you're a Stark."
Theon swallowed. "When I was Ramsay's prisoner, Yara tried to save me. She's the only one who tried to save me."
He sniffled before continuing. "She needs me now."
"So, why are you still talking to me?" Jon joked.
Jon left the room, leaving Emmelyne and Theon. Emmelyne offered him a smile. "Do you remember the last time we spoke? Truly, spoke," she said.
"I believe that was six years ago. The night of King Robert's feast," Theon nodded.
"I offended you completely. I want to apologize for how I was when I was younger."
Theon shook his head at that. "No," he said. "I was much worse than you. I was a complete ass."
Emmelyne let out a chuckle. "You were," she agreed. "But you aren't now. Go and save your sister."
There was a moment's hesitation before the pair embraced. They shared one more smile before Emmelyne left him in the throne room.
On the ship toward White Harbor, Sandor found himself at Emmelyne's door. He didn't know why he was there, and he knew he'd need to decide quickly. He rapped his knuckles on the door, hearing shuffling on the other side. Emmelyne opened it, smiling at Sandor. "Hello," she greeted.
"Hello," he replied.
"What did you want?"
"Do I have to want something every time I visit you?"
"No," she chuckled. "I just can't imagine anyway ever just wanting to enjoy my presence."
Sandor smiled. "You already know that I enjoy your presence."
She paused, reaching out and taking his hand. Sandor stepped into the room, allowing Emmelyne to close the door behind them. She pressed her lips to his, pulling him back toward her bed. She laughed when he picked her up around the middle, pinning her to the blankets.
Emmelyne was truly and literally in love. It was strange to admit that. Strange to think that she'd fallen in love with a man she once had feared. But it was true. Emmelyne loved Sandor Clegane.