( Jon keeps his arm around her to keep her steady, not wanting her to fall, and when she asks if he'll tell her about Daenerys, he nods. It is a hard thing to speak of Daenerys, to speak of what once was and what could have been, but it feels good to describe her to someone who would have been dreaming for her and waiting for her as nothing more than a promise of future blood. This is someone who would have loved Daenerys. Her family. )

You would have liked her, I think. She was small, like you are, and had the most beautiful hair I had ever seen in my life. She had three dragon eggs that hatched for her after all the dragons in the world had died. She...Daenerys was never afraid. Ever. She and my sister both were queens and while my sister lived a hard life, she wasn't one to fight with her hands like Daenerys. My sister fought with words. Daenerys rode on the back of a dragon or lifted a sword or did whatever she needed to do.

( The more he talks about her, the more he misses her, and his words catch in his throat for a moment. )

She died in King's Landing. Without her, though, no one would have lived. She wanted to set things right after Baratheons and Lannisters had torn it apart. She was my father's younger sister and we were of an age. It was difficult not to love her. She would have loved to meet you.