94Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.
The Second Dance
"Talking"
"Thinking"
Elia
The dream started as it always did. Elia was sitting in a bedroom in the Hightower. The child laid in the bed, but his sleep was not peaceful. Bandages were soaked in blood across his body and sweat caked his brow. Little sounds leaked out of his mouth. They were scared and full of pain. He was caught in a dream, a dream he couldn't escape from.
"Mother…" the boy cried out. "Mother…?"
Elia wouldn't move, only stayed in the chair. She would sit watch over the boy but never comforted him. She should've given him some comfort.
Then, a wolf's howl echoed through the window. And a hooded woman appeared in the room. Elia was startled by the sight of her and could only watch as she walked to the bed, taking the opposite side. As if feeling her, the boy shifted away from Elia to the woman.
A hand reached out, aching to touch. But it would fall short of his cheek. The woman knelt, getting as close as she could without moving. Even though her face was hidden, Elia knew she looked at the child with nothing but love.
"My boy," she whispered. Those two words were filled with a mother's longing and love. The fingers traced the air above his cheek. It was the closest she would ever come to touching him.
The fingers withdrew and the woman looked at Elia. Those grey eyes filled with a mother's rage. She rose to her full height and grew taller still. Words spilled from her mouth, filling the air with one damning sentence, all mixed with the wolf's howl.
"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HIM!"
Elia snapped awake, greeting the morning sun with a panting breath. It took her a moment to remember the dream was over. She went to the window and looked out at the sea. It wasn't the sea of her childhood, but it was a comfort all the same.
Her thoughts went back to the dream, as they always did. The dream had been with her for so long, she started to wonder just how much of it was a dream and how much was memory. After the Crow's Eye had been repelled at Oldtown, she had spent days in that room. Perhaps she imagined the woman appearing one night and that was what she dreamt.
It might be possible. Elia had certainly heard no wolf while she had watched over the boy. But one night, she heard a strange roar from the sky. It had been a sound she had never heard before. It had been aged, yet mighty, angry at something. It seeped into Elia's bones and made her afraid. If she believed it to be an animal, she would've thought it was a…dragon.
She dismissed the thought when it came. The dragons had been dead for nearly two centuries now. The only reason she remembered the sound was because her husband had arrived the next day and the boy finally awoke.
But that was the past, had been for years now. Elia had to focus on the present. And that meant she had to get ready for the day.
Court had been assembled. Elia took her place beside the Iron Throne with her children next to her. Her husband Rhaegar sat atop the throne, the crown of Aegon V atop his brow. The Kingsguard stood before the dais, six in total, ready to protect the king and his family. Standing so close to the Iron Throne should've been seen as a sign of power and respect. But she had to share that power with her husband's second wife.
She did not look across the dais at Cersei Lannister or her children. She wouldn't give the woman that pleasure. The only reason Rhaegar married her was because he needed Tywin Lannister's support after the Rebellion. Cersei might've given Rhaegar more children, but Elia could take some cold satisfaction that neither of them held his heart. No, that belonged to another woman.
Aegon stood tall and proud, the Prince of Dragonstone. Every inch of him was his father's son, from his silver hair to his indigo eyes. And if he was his father's son, Rhaenys was her mother's daughter. Lady Margaery Tyrell stood by their side, standing just a shade closer to Aegon. Elia wasn't fooled by the imagery. She knew her children and their pleasures, especially what they shared.
The herald slammed his staff, silencing the court. "His royal Highness, Prince Jon Targaryen!" he announced. The doors to the Great Hall opened. All eyes turned towards them, awaiting the newcomer.
As Prince Jon entered, Elia was surprised. The last time she had seen her husband's second son, it was after the Greyjoy Rebellion. He had been so small, a boy still healing from the Crow's Eye's attack on Oldtown, when he was sent to Winterfell to foster.
The boy was gone and in his place was a man of eight-and-ten. His clothes were travel-stained, dark in color and mostly black, underneath the boiled leather. The only sign of his house was the clasp on his cloak. A sword was belted at his waist. Ser Jaime Lannister, the last of Rhaegar's Kingsguard, walked beside him. He had followed the prince to the North. Much to Elia's surprise, Tyrion Lannister walked beside them, along with a woman dressed in white who carried a boy in her arms. So did Samwell Tarly with a girl. Behind them marched a mix of Targaryen and Stark men.
As they came to a stop before the dais, the prince's eyes looked at everything. They noticed the Small Council standing beside the Kingsguard, the queens and their children, and the king. It was the eyes that caught Elia. Those were his mother's eyes, grey as iron. The dream flashed through her mind, as did the voice.
"You were supposed to protect him!"
She pushed the voice away. She had made mistakes before Oldtown, mistakes she was willing to correct if Prince Jon had stayed south. Now, all she could do was see where he stood. Lyanna Stark's ghost would not haunt her.
Finally, Prince Jon knelt before the Iron Throne. "Father, I have returned," he announced. Behind him, his entourage followed his example (it took the woman in white a moment longer).
Rhaegar looked down at him. "Prince Jon, you were summoned back to King's Landing nearly two years ago," he said. "You refused to come." Elia remembered how the gossip spread from that message. More than a few courtiers wondered if there would be another Daemon Blackfyre. She felt quite certain Rhaegar's other queen had a part in those rumors.
"Aye, but only because there was still work to be done in the North."
The king's gaze was unyielding. "And what work would there be that required you?"
"The kind that I helped cause."
Whispers grew in the hall. Elia knew what they were whispering because she wondered the same thing. Just what had he done in the North? "Stand, Jon, and explain yourself," Rhaegar ordered.
Prince Jon rose easily, as did the others. "During my time in Winterfell, Lord Stark heard news from the Night's Watch that a new King-Beyond-the-Wall had risen," the prince began. "When I visited the Wall and met with Maester Aemon, there were reports this new king had amassed a horde of wildings and were marching on the Wall. The Lord Commander decided to mount a great ranging in response, and I chose to join them."
Elia didn't know if he was brave or foolish. How old had he been when this happened? King Rhaegar turned his gaze onto the Kingsguard standing beside his son. "And where were you, Ser Jaime, when my son decided this?"
"Right beside him, your Grace," Ser Jaime answered with his usual smile. "As was my brother and young Sam here." The Tarly boy looked flustered at being mentioned so. Elia noticed he was doing his best not to look at his father too. Randyll stared at his son with a hard frown.
"During the ranging, we were captured by the wildings." The court's whispers grew at the prince's declaration. He didn't care for them, keeping his eyes on his father. "We were spared because we allowed them to believe we were Watchmen who wanted turn our cloaks. We were brought before Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, and he welcomed us amongst his people. Together we marched southward, to the Wall.
"When we reached it, the Night's Watch had been bolstered by men of the North. The wildings were still eager to climb over the Wall and sweep through the Seven Kingdoms. Mance, however, saw that it could become a slaughter, and so was willing to negotiate with the Watch."
When he glanced at the Dwarf of Casterly Rock, no one missed that implication. "Do we have to thank you for that suggestion, Lord Tyrion?" King Rhaegar asked.
"Yes, your Grace," he answered. "Wild as they might've been, I found the people had a charm of their own and a zeal to live." The woman beside him rolled her eyes at that. "It would've been a waste for them to die. I was only glad that Mance Rayder listened."
"And who did this king negotiate with? The Lord Commander? Lord Stark?"
"He negotiated with me," Prince Jon declared. Elia wasn't the only one who was shocked. Her children looked at their brother as if he was mad. "When I revealed my identity, and with Maester Aemon's aid as well as Lord Stark's backing, I negotiated with Mance Rayder to settle his people in the Gift. In return, they would adhere to the crown's laws and judgements, as any subject of the Realm." He paused and looked at the king. "Lord Stark said he sent a raven detailing all of this to King's Landing."
"It was received," Rhaegar told him. He said nothing else. Elia remembered that raven. Lord Stark had written the Wildings had come south of the Wall and were settling in the Gift. Nothing had been said about Prince Jon or his actions.
"But peace between the free folk—"
"Free folk?" repeated the king.
"What the wildings refer to themselves as," explained the prince. "Peace between the free folk and the Northerners did not happen in a day. Whenever a problem occurred, I would ride out and handle the matter myself."
And now they knew why he didn't return for two years. Elia knew any problems between the wildings and the northerners could've ended in blood being spilled. If Prince Jon went out to settle the matter, he would've been in the saddle constantly.
Her husband looked down at his son. His face showed nothing. "So, you overstepped your bounds and your authority to negotiate with barbarians into my kingdom." The court all but leaned in, eager to see what came next.
Prince Jon didn't cower at the king's voice. He stood tall and proud, every inch his mother's son, yet he had his father's determined expression. "As a Prince of the Realm, I was the highest authority available. There was no time to send a raven and wait for the hope or the Lord Hand to come. I did not want to see a slaughter because people wanted to live, your Grace. If that means I had to overstep, then I would gladly overstep again."
For a long moment, Elia watched as father and son stared at one another. She didn't know what Rhaegar was thinking. It was a mood she had seen often, and she could never tell what he was thinking. "You did overstep, but you did so because you thought it was the right thing to do. And it was." The declaration surprised the court, and Cersei, but not the Small Council. "You have proven yourself to be a true dragon, Jon." He smiled down at him. "I am proud of you, my son."
Relief and pride shined through as Jon smiled back. "I only did my duty, your Grace." He said the words, but Elia could see he was glad for the praise. "And I brought a representative of the free folk with me."
Tyrion Lannister stepped forward with the woman. "My lords and ladies, your Grace, I present the Lady Val Lannister of the free folk, my wife," he announced for all to hear. The woman looked around at everyone. There was a challenge in her eyes, daring anyone to say something.
But while she looked around, Tyrion kept his eyes on one man. Lord Tywin Lannister showed nothing as he looked at his son. Elia could only guess what he might be thinking and none of it was good. The Seven Kingdoms knew how he hated the dwarf.
As the Lady Val's eyes came to the Iron Throne, they also found Rhaegar. "So, you're the kneeler king," she said.
"I am the king, Lady Lannister," he replied. "Your king." His attention fell down to the boy she held. "And this is your son?"
"Aye, Gerold Lannister." If the name didn't make it obvious, the boy's blonde locks and green eyes all but shouted who was his father. Elia knew Cersei had an ugly look as she stared at her brother and his wife. She was like her father, only she made it obvious.
"Be welcomed in my court, Lady Val," Rhaegar told her.
While she nodded, Prince Jon spoke. "I bring two gifts for my family as well, Father." He pulled the sword at his side free. The Kingsguard readied their swords, but he only held it out in his palms. "Dark Sister, recovered from beyond the Wall." The Valyrian steel gleamed in the light, same as the gold and the ruby in the crossguard.
Elia was surprised. She wasn't the only one. The second ancestral blade of House Targaryen, returned to them. The Realm had thought their house fortunate when King Rhaegar and Prince Aegon crushed the Golden Company and took back Blackfyre. Now, they had both. She looked at her children. Aegon was happy to see the blade. Rhaenys had a look of desire as she gazed at it.
"We are glad that it is returned to us," Rhaegar proclaimed. "Have you wielded it, Jon?"
"Only in defense of myself or my friends," he answered.
"Then continued to do so." Jon nodded as he sheathed the sword again. "But you said you brought two gifts."
"Aye, I did. And the second, I consider the far superior of the two." Before anyone could've wondered what he meant, he looked back to the doors.
A shriek was the first thing Elia heard, full of shock and fear. The reason was answered a second later when a direwolf entered the Great Hall.
The queen stared. The court had heard how Lord Stark's children were raising direwolf pups they had found but she never thought one had been given to Prince Jon. The wolf itself easily reached the prince's waist in height, probably even a few inches taller. Its fur was white as snow and its red eyes could've matched Dark Sister's ruby. As it strode down the hall, it showed no fear. The men standing the prince paid it no mind. They were clearly used to the wolf. When it came to a stop beside Prince Jon, it all but announced how much of a Stark he was.
Yet, it was clear to Elia that wasn't the gift he talked about.
Sitting on the wolf's back, much like one would a pony, was a little girl with silver-white hair mixed with red, and purple eyes. When the wolf sat on its haunches, she slid off with nary a word and went to Prince Jon's side. She gazed up at the Iron Throne and a determined look crossed her face. Elia knew that look very well. It was the same look Aegon used to wear whenever he wanted to do something he couldn't.
The girl moved before anyone could stop her. She scurried around Ser Arthur's leg, raced up the dais, and climbed the throne's steps with no fear. She came to a stop at the king's knee and held out her arms. "Up!" she demanded in a clear voice. Rhaegar, still stunned at her appearance, did as he was ordered, picking her up and settling her in his lap.
"Your Grace, I present the Princess Daena Twinflame Targaryen," Prince Jon announced with a proud smile. "Your granddaughter."
"Papa, I can see everything up here!" the child said in that same clear voice. And with that one sentence, she had captured her grandfather's heart.
That night, the royal family had dinner together. It was a private gathering, for the family only. The king sat at the table's head, with his queens beside him and their children sitting beside them. Out of all of Cersei's brood, only the twins, Aemond and Aemma, were interested in seeing their half-brother. Lucerys, the eldest, lounged in his seat. The way he frowned at his empty place showed what he was thinking.
Prince Jon was the last to arrive, carrying his daughter. Ser Jaime and the direwolf followed. "I apologize for being late," he said. "I had to pry this little one away from the Tyrells." Daena wore an unrepentant smile. "Lady Olenna was quite taken with her from what I saw." As he looked at the table, a slow smile crossed his lips. He put his daughter down after whispering in her ear.
The princess went around the table and stood beside Elia. Seeing that smiling face surprised her for a moment, until she smiled back. "Hello, little one."
"Hello, Grandmother," she said before raising her hands.
Aegon laughed as his mother picked her up. "I think your daughter is trying to lay claim to my mother, brother," he told Jon.
He smiled as he took his seat. "Nothing like that. Daena has an eye for finding grandmothers." The direwolf laid down beside his chair as Ser Jaime took position by the door.
Daena nodded. "Grandmothers tell the best stories," she proclaimed.
Such honesty in the declaration. Elia couldn't help her laughter. "And are you hoping to get a story from me, little one?" she asked.
"Aye."
Rhaenys shared in her brother's laughter. "Such honesty! It's refreshing," she remarked. Her eyes found Jon. There was warmth in them, along with something else. "You've done a good job raising her, Jon."
"I'm still raising her, Rhaenys," he replied.
Having a child in her lap was a sensation Elia missed. Alas, Daena had to go to her own seat beside her father as the food was brought in. Daena stared confusingly at the food placed before her. Had she never seen fruits before? She looked over at her father, who gave her an encouraging nod. She mimicked his action as he picked up an apple and bit into it. Her eyes lit up and she quickly finished off the apple. It reminded Elia of Oberyn, back when they were children. He was such a messy eater.
"Easy, pup," Jon told her. "You don't want a sick tummy again, do you?" Daena thought about it for a moment, then ate a little slower.
Cersei regarded the child for a moment before looking at her father. "She is precocious. You and her mother must have a tough time with her." Her voice was sweet. Anyone who didn't know the second queen might've thought nothing of her words. But Elia knew her and heard the poisonous undertone.
The pause in Jon's movement was brief but they all saw it. "…Her mother died in childbirth." His voice was quiet in its somberness. "I have had help raising her, aye. But for the most part, she's only had me."
His sadness was matched by his father. It was a sadness Elia didn't share. "Who was she?" Rhaegar asked.
"Her name was Ygritte. She was one of the free folk." A little smile crossed his lips. "I took her captive, and she did the same when Mance's army found us. Stuck by my side throughout our time with them. Claimed that I stole her—"
"Stole?" Aemond piped up. "What's that mean?"
He looked towards his little brother with a warm smile. "When a man of the free folk wants to marry, he has to steal a woman from another clan." Shocked and distasteful expressions rose around the table. "And the woman is expected to put up a fight every step of the way. Of course, some only put a show of it, if they want to go with the man."
Aegon lost his shocked expression as curiosity replaced it. "So, since she said you stole her…?"
"In the eyes of the free folk, she was my wife. I didn't think much of it at first but the more we rode together…"
The more they fell in love. Elia didn't need to hear the words to know it was true. A slow feeling of jealousy curled through her stomach. She once thought she had such a thing, only to be proven wrong. And now it was being thrown in her face.
Jon kept talking, unaware of what she felt. "When I negotiated with Mance, one of the things I offered was to seal the new alliance between our people with marriage, namely between Ygritte and myself." He smirked a little at the memory. "I think I surprised everyone in that tent with that declaration. But Mance agreed to it."
"What did Ygr…Ygra…" Aemma frowned as she tried to say the name. "Ygritte say about it?" She was proud to get it right.
"She was surprised, then not too pleased that it was decided without her decision." Jon's smile was fondly reminiscent. "She gave me a black eye for it, but we were married beneath a heart tree all the same."
More than a few people chuckled at that. Lucerys wasn't one of them. "And now she's dead," he declared, waving it away as if the woman didn't matter.
Jon's smile froze and slowly slid off his face. "Aye, she is."
"Perhaps now that you're back in the south, you're looking to remarry," Cersei suggested. "I'm sure there are plenty of ladies who would yearn to be wedded to you, such as you are."
Elia was sure that most of the ladies Cersei was thinking of came from the Westerlands. She knew what the other queen was doing. She thought she was clever when she was nothing but crass. The subject of Jon's hand in marriage was not something to be discuss the first night he returned to King's Landing.
"Then they will be disappointed, your Grace," Jon told her. "I don't plan to marry again."
The only two not surprised by that declaration were Jon and Daena. And the princess was far too busy trying the new foods to look around the table. "Jon, that's not a decision to be made lightly," Rhaegar told him. "As prince, you have a duty."
"I know my duty, Father," he replied. "I did it when I made peace with the free folk, and I will do it in whatever capacity you'll give me. But Daena will be my only heir."
Cersei smirked as she looked at him. "Bold words, Prince Jon. Yet I'm sure those words will turn to wind when you find a girl who'll capture your heart. Why delay the inevitable and simply find the girl now?"
Elia wasn't alone in how she felt about her words. She and her children threw the same look of disgust across the table at the Lannister. Cersei was unrepentant, more focused on Jon than them. It wasn't Elia didn't feel the same. She had heard men say they would never marry again, yet they were usually courting a woman within the year. What she objected to was how Cersei put it. Did she have to be so crass, not to mention crude, about it?
For his part, Jon finished his venison before answering. "You would not be the first Lannister to tell me such, Cersei." Something changed in his voice. He didn't shout but there was a note that warned her to tread lightly. "Lord Tyrion told me the same thing, albeit with kinder words. I'll tell you the same thing I told him: I'll remarry when your lord father does."
Aegon covered his mouth, trying to hide the sudden laughter. His mother heard the snort all the same. Not that she didn't disagree. Tywin Lannister was almost famous for his faith to his late wife. It had been decades since her death and not once had he considered taking a new wife. Ser Jaime wasn't quite smirking from where he stood but Elia knew he could if he wanted to.
Rhaegar tried not to be as amused. "Tell me, Jon, why is Daena named Twinflame?" he asked, pushing on.
"So I can be like Mama," Daena answered before her father did. "Mama was kissed by fire, and now so I am too."
"Kissed by fire? What does that mean?" Aemma asked. Her curiosity was pure, showing her interest.
"Red hair is rare amongst the free folk, so those who have it are often said to be kissed by fire and are considered beauties," Jon explained. "Once they learned about our family, they considered the hair to be kissed by dragonfire."
It seemed almost poetic in choice. But Elia also noticed the redness in Daena's hair wasn't natural. The streaks were too uniformed, too bright, to be anything but a dye. "Where did you get the dye?" she asked Jon.
"There was a Tyroshi merchant one time at White Harbor. Daena saw his wares, saw the red dye, and begged me to get it for her." His daughter grinned unashamedly at his look, which made him smile back. "I have a hard time saying no when she puts her mind to it."
Rhaegar chuckled. "Yes, I'm aware of that problem." There was no ill meaning in his words as he looked at both his daughters with fatherly pride.
"So, now that are you here, what do you plan to do, brother?" Aegon asked Jon. Everyone was interested in the answer. Cersei might've been crass about it earlier, but the game didn't wait even for a dinner. Jon was a new piece after all these years. They had to know where he stood.
Jon didn't take long to answer. "Truthfully, I don't intend to stay long. We came south so Daena could meet her family, but we will return north. There is still much to do between the North and the free folk."
"That is a duty I'm sure Lord Stark can handle," he said. "You're back in the south, Jon. Surely you don't think we'll let you go so easily again?"
Jon was surprised. It showed on his face as he stared at his brother. "I am needed back north."
"You are also needed here," Rhaegar declared. "There is land for you to rule, and a title that goes with it." His son was surprised but also curious. He waited to see what would be said next. "When you refused to return, I admit I was saddened but it also gave us time to finish the work."
"What work?"
"The reconstruction. Come tomorrow, I will announce you as the Prince of Summerhall, to rule the castle and its surrounding lands." His smile was shared by Elia and her children. They all knew this would happen long before Jon had entered the city.
It was not a sentiment shared by the rest of the table. "You said that Summerhall would be given to your second son," Cersei accused Rhaegar. Her green eyes were blazing.
"And I have."
Lucerys slapped the table. "I'm your second son!" he protested. His finger reached up and pointed down the table. "Not the bastard! He shouldn't get anything even if he sired a bastard of his own!"
"Lucerys!" boomed Rhaegar, becoming the king in that moment. If Cersei's eyes blazed, his burned as they stared down his son. Lucerys quailed, unable to look him in the eye. Elia snorted as she eyed Cersei. The Lannister's firstborn was weak.
The silence was broken when Jon stood up and picked up Daena. "You must be getting tired, pup," he told her.
"No," she protested even as she laid her head on his shoulder while her eyes fluttered.
"Aye, I think so. Ser Jaime, please take Daena to her room. Make sure she gets to bed."
Daena looked at the table, at Elia. "Story?" she asked as she was passed over to Ser Jaime. He held her gently, like she was his own.
"Maybe tomorrow night, little one," Elia told her. For now, she wouldn't leave this room. What happened next would be very important
Jon watched as his daughter left the room. When the door closed, he didn't return to his seat. He walked around the table until he stood behind Lucerys. He moved quick, reaching over the chair to grab him by the hair and pulling up. The boy's shriek was cut off when the direwolf bit his arm, suddenly appearing by his master's side. A dagger appeared in Jon's hand and slammed down between Lucerys's fingers, an inch away from skin.
No one moved, too shocked by what was happening. Jon leaned in close to Lucerys's ear. "The only reason you are not a bloody mess on the floor right now," he snarled, "is because you are my brother. I know what people say about me. I've accepted that I will be seen as a bastard by some. But my daughter's mother and I were married. She is not a bastard and will never be one. If you dare to call her that again, you will not like the outcome. Am I understood?" Lucerys stayed silent until Jon pulled his hair, which made him nod quickly.
Satisfied with the silent answer, both man and wolf withdrew. Lucerys started clutching his arm, but Elia saw there was no blood. The direwolf knew what it was doing. "Your pardon, your Grace, for that display," Jon said to his father. "With your permission, I will leave and tend to my daughter."
Rhaegar nodded. "We will see you in the morning, Jon." His attention was solely on his son, ignoring his wife's outraged look.
Elia watched silently as the second prince left. In her mind's eye, the memory of him lying in that bed, unsure of waking up, faded away. "He doesn't need my protection anymore," she told her ghost.
Something faded inside, a shadow leaving her soul, at those words. If Lyanna Stark heard her, she believed the words too.
The Second Dance of the Dragons began much like the first. Two factions held the court, the Blacks, led by Elia Martell and her children, and the Reds, led by Cersei Lannister. While King Rhaegar knew of the political maneuverings both women did, his focus was on the Seven Kingdoms as a whole. But while he made great efforts to bring the realm together and heal from the troubles of war, more often than not he was hindered by his own family as they vied to see who would be the King's heir.
When his second son, Prince Jon (named by his dying mother and the only Targaryen with a non-Valyrian name) returned to King's Landing from the North with news of peace with the wildings and a daughter in his arms, a third faction began to grow. Named the Whites after Prince Jon's albino direwolf, while they didn't actively try to see the prince named the heir, they did support him in his efforts. The Whites did not have a great presence at court since Prince Jon ruled from Summerhall but they were not so easily removed.
If these factions were the tinder, it was Prince Viserys's success in reviving the dragons and a wedding that were the sparks creating a fire. A fire no one had noticed until it was too late.
— From the writings of Donald Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill.
End
Author's note: Hey again.
So, let's get this out of the way. I am not back fully. I wrote some one-shots and small chapters while I was also doing editing on my original work some months ago. The thought about posting them had bounced around my head but there was more important work to do. But now, I might as well get them out there and see what everyone thinks.
Let me be clear, I have no idea how long this collection could go for or when the next batch will be written. For all I know, the time between me writing them and actually posting could be months. So if I haven't posted anything in a long while, that just means this has been put to the side.
Now that's out of the way, let's talk about this story.
Jon is not short for Jaehaerys (how many times have you read that in a story?). He doesn't have a Valyrian name because it was his mother's dying wish. She wanted her child to have a Northern name and Rhaegar couldn't refuse it.
Cersei's children aren't Jaime's. Why would they? She got Rhaegar, just like she was promised. So her brother will be close by to protect her and do what she wants, just like he should. Of course, that idea got rip apart when Jaime was sent North alongside Jon.
I'll see you all next chapter!