A Dragon is not a Slave

Tis the Duty of a King

"Seven Hells," Jon threw the furs off of himself, and dressed as quickly as he could. It was ridiculous to lay in a bed somewhere when he felt fine, and that somewhere on the boat the queen might still be worried about him. He could still feel her hand, small and soft, slipping into his.
In the hall he noticed a rushing around of Unsullied, and some of the bloodriders, and stepped up on deck into confusion. Jorah was shouting at the Hound and Ser Davos, seeing Jon rushed to his side.
"You couldn't be convinced to rest?"
"What's happening?" Jon ignored him.
"Well, the Queen's gone-"
"What?!" Jon cried, and throwing his fur cloak over his shoulders he made for Ser Jorah.
Ser Davos followed, "Most believe she took to the skies."
"But she's missing!" Jon shot back at him.
Closer, Jorah grilled the Hound. "Why would she not tell someone other than you?"
Sandor scoffed, "The fuck should I know?"
"Clegane, I'm warning you-" Ser Jorah started.
"What you gonna do, old man?" Sandor laughed, and then he saw Jon. "Here come the fucking King."
"Do you know where Daenerys is?" Jon asked him pointedly, hoping that he was conveying what might happen if he got the same jesting back.
Sandor spat on the ground, "She flew off, on that green one."
Jorah snorted, "Lies. She doesn't ride that one."
"Aye, you fuck! I know, but she flew off on it all the same."
Jon glanced up at the skies, but there was no sound of the dragons above. Seagulls and waves only, again. "Did she say where she was going?"
"Kings Landing," Sandor answered, "Said you lot would try an stop her. Probably knew sneaking off was her best bet."
"And you are just now telling us this?" Ser Jorah kept the pressure on him, "How are we to know you haven't disposed of her to the Lannister queen?"
"You've been away a long time, Mormont." Sandor growled. "And things have changed."
"If I order you locked away, would thing stay the same, I wonder for you?" Mormont threw back.
"You'd be disobeying your queen then," the Hound answered, "She vowed her she would protect me, in return for saving you." Jon watched Sandor, seeing a proud sort of look on the man's face, and then the man turned to face Jon himself, "If I had to guess, I'd say the girl was running from something."
Jon paused, "What?"
Sandor scowled, "Who the fuck knows what a woman is thinking, or running from. But she's not in any danger- not the sort you lot are worried about."
Seeing there was nowhere else to get with the Hound, Jon helped them search. But it was eventually decided the man spoke the truth, and that night as they harbored on Dragonstone, they heard reports of the queen being seen passing, this time riding the smaller green dragon. Jon did not even leave the ship. Picking up Varys, Theon and Tyrion they struck out to sea again and Jon stayed out as late as her could watching the sky, and listening for Drogon and Rhaegal.
His dreams were restless, incomplete, and of Danerys. He loathed waking up because they slipped away as easily as she had. For most of the morning he stood at the bow and watched it cut into the water, wishing they could just go faster. The sun was high in the sky when Tyrion wandered up and joined him.
"Jon Snow," he sighed, "I truly thought I'd never see you again."
"Were you wishing that?" Jon asked him, only half in jest.
Tyrion smiled, "Now that there is a living... mmm, half-living man in the hull of our ship, all I want is for the king in the North to live forever."
Jon breathed in deeply, and out again with relief. "Thank you for saying that."
"I know the queen..." Tyrion paused, "-no doubt, the queen is not without regret." Jon glanced at him. "She has been betrayed, very pointedly, in her past and I have cautioned her to be careful now. Perhaps this is my own fault... We did not believe you when we should have. Now, Viserion is lost."
"That was my fault, you're not to blame for any of this." Jon said sadly, "If I wasn't such a fool, running off to impress her. Even up there-" he scowled, remembering. "when she landed I ...I should have just ran for him, I should have tried to take the Night King out when I could."
"And risk him turning you?" Tyrion remarked, slipping his hands inside the pockets of his waistcoat. "Tell me, do you think you would be able to help her as a dead man?"
Jon mused over that. I am a dead man, to all intents and purposes...
"The Queen would be broken, should our young Northern King fall." Varys slipped up onto the deck. "You must now keep yourself as safe as we urge Daenerys. The more I see of you, son of Ned Stark, the more I realized that the Realm needs you both."
Tyrion shifted from one foot to the other, and did not offer any words but Ser Jorah Mormont, present through the whole exchange though unobserved suddenly surprised them. He was sitting near at hand, upon a pile of ropes, polishing his long curved blades and he suddenly spoke.
"The Queen," he did not look at any of them, "I have seen her as a helpless little thing, hurt by her selfish brother, and thrown to a ruthless warlord. I've watched her walk into the funeral pyre of her beloved, only to walk out again with dragons in her arms. She's been beaten down, and she's rose again, only to be beaten down, and to rise once more. She should be dead...so many times over..." Jon nearly shivered. "But something wants her here. Now. And nothing any of us can do will effect that."
Varys shifted, to look at him. "Despite all odds, eh Ser Jorah?"
Jorah eyed him carefully, "I've proven myself to her. Have you?"
Varys turned away. "She knows I have the realms best interests at heart."
"Will she be safe in Kings Landing?" Jon broke in suddenly. "Or are we bringing her to a death trap?"
Tyrion glanced up at Jon, "My brother gave me his word. And she is flying in there with Drogon. Ser Jorah is prepared to lay down his life for her at any moment, and I have heard rumors that you yourself are a swordsman. She should be quite safe, actually."
Ser Davos came with news of Jon's meal served in the cabin, and a bath of hot sea-water and so Jon followed him down into the room below. Jon asked about ravens from Winterfell, but there were no new tidings. Ser Davos subtly turned the conversation back to the queen, and why she might have chosen to fly to the city.
"She touched me," Jon began.
"Well, ye have been with a girl, haven't ye?" Davos laughed, "It usually involves some touching."
Jon sighed, "She touched be but then she pulled away. And then she ran... Why do you suppose she did that?"
"Oh who knows with women." Davos replied. "Scared of their own cunts, half of them." Davos eyed Jon, "Sorry for that."
"Well, what do I do if she runs again?" Jon felt like a child somehow, in these areas.
"You're a wolf, aren't ye?" Davos eyes twinkled, "chase her."
Jon felt some stirring in his blood at that. "She told me she cannot have children."
"Hmm," Davos answered. "I recall the Lord Tyrion saying something of a sort to be, similarly. But I said to that, she ain't been with naught but warlords and sell-swords. Tis the duty of a King to put an heir into a Queen."
"You didn't." Jon nearly laughed, but the thought of even just bedding Daenerys was so heavy in his mind that mention of producing a life with her was overwhelming. Only a day ago she'd been so close he could feel warmth coming off her body, could smell her again, the beautiful sun-filled scent.
Every moment he used to think had been a waste on the island, had turned out to be precious because she was in them. The hellish journey that had seen him more north than he'd ever hope to go again, had weighed hard on him. In the cold nights, holed up at the rock waiting, Jon would close his eyes and remember her face in the council room, her eyes when she told him good-bye. I've grown used to him...even those words haunted Jon. He'd never considered Dragonstone home-like until then, and he'd never thought he would miss the sea.
Jon wondered over and over again if there was more to her rescue than Ser Jorah or the proof they needed for Cersei, if perhaps it was for him. On one hand he wished it were not, so that he wouldn't feel such responsibility for Viserion, but on the other, he longed for it and believed it to be truth. And maybe she had ran off, away from him and everyone. But before that, just before. She'd touched him.
"Kings Landing!" a voice echoed from above, and Jon ran up to the deck. There stretched the biggest city he'd ever seen, and drawing to the forward end of the ship, Jon stood beside Tyrion again and watched the birds circle what he suspected was the Red Keep. If it did come down to it, Jon was prepared to use his sword to protect the Queen. But he hoped beyond anything that he wouldn't have to.