Breaker, Broken | Jorah Mormont

Chapter 23

"My Queen," said Varys seriously. "It is not only the Realm you are protecting now. Your sister will target you. She will target this Council, your husband, your..."

"My child," she finished, acknowledging the weak smiles cast her way. "I do not think her cruel enough to do such a thing, but... better safe than sorry. Which is why I wish our letters to the other Kingdoms include this announcement. The Queen is with child and... a usurper sails across the Narrow Sea to try and take what she thinks is hers."

Varys was not satisfied. "Queen Saera, if I may speak plainly–?"

"Always, Lord Varys."

"You must be prepared to flee if it comes to that. You and our King. You've already named an heir. If we decide from this moment who will succeed Prince Jon–"

"I will not abandon this city unless it is the only way to make sure my child is able to grow up one day. My sister wouldn't if she knew. She's lost a child of her own. And she won't want blood on her hands."

"Needless to say, she doesn't have to get blood anywhere. She could feed you to her dragons as Aegon the Usurper did his sister, Queen Rhaenyra."

"I should hope it won't come to that. You are right about one thing, Lord Varys." She faced Jon, "Start thinking about who you want to succeed you in the event that becomes necessary. Your claim will be stronger if you have an heir in place. Once I am no longer Queen I cannot control what you do or don't do with the crown. Though I'd like for power to rotate between the Great Houses... it is possible that this cannot be done if no leaders or heirs of those Kingdoms prove competent enough to be named Prince or Princess of Dragonstone."

Jon knew what she meant. Saera continued, "In which case I ask you to start considering marriage, to have heirs that are your own blood who you could educate as needed. My only requirement is that you find someone you love and who makes you a better version of yourself. Do not marry for duty. We've seen too many wed for duty and how did that turn out?"

He nodded, "Yes, My Queen. At your command."

"At your leisure," she corrected. "I do not wish to pressure you into this. It's only a precaution."

"The dragons," piped up Ser Davos once it was quiet. "What about them? Armies, we can defeat in the field. But she has one more dragon than you. One larger, based on what you've told us, Your Grace."

She shut her eyes for a moment. "I refuse to force Viserion to fight his own brothers. As much as I do not wish to make dragons extinct again..." she pressed her fist to the table. "Let us rebuild the scorpions that Qyburn fashioned for Cersei. Pluck him out of the black cells long enough for him to explain them. I doubt she'll have thought to use armor for her dragons. Rhaegal is riderless, he will be subdued more easily."

They were quiet, able to see how stressed Saera was. She held her head with one hand, the other instinctively lowered to hold her stomach. "Forgive me, I must step out," she said, choosing to get up. She dipped down to kiss Jorah, "I leave them to you."

She walked all the way to the Dragonpit, the Queensguard insisting on following her. They were patient as Saera stopped to greet everyone who called out to her, making her trip much longer than intended. She arrived at last and found Viserion asleep in the sun, wings spread out and small whirls of sand billowing around his face each time he snored.

"Good morrow, my boy," said Saera, announcing her presence. He opened his eyes lazily, cooing as she started to caress his forehead, humming and pressing her cheek down against his. "I'm told you're eating much more. Perhaps that was your way of telling me something about myself? I had three helpings of rye and cheese for breakfast."