CHAPTER 53 | DANGEROUS THINGS

"I was once here years ago, Your Grace."

Daenerys Stormborn turned at her title. She stood on the top floor of the Stone Drum in Dragonstone, a room that housed her relative's, Aegon the Conqueror, Painted Table. This wasn't just any table, but one carved and painted to look like a detailed map of Westeros. This was the exact room that Aegon planned his siege on Westeros, and Daenerys was doing the exact same, in the same room.

Melisandre, the Red Priestess, clasped her hands in front of her, striding over to the Painted Table in quick movements. "And it was here," she continued, "that I stood with the false king, Stannis Baratheon. Things did not turn out as planned with him, but that's only because he didn't listen to me often."

Daenerys didn't know how she felt about this Red Priestess, who had seemingly just showed up at her doors, demanding for refuge. Daenerys was free to help anyone who needed it, but this woman was odd. She had made claims and prophecies of people before, so why should Daenerys believe her now?

"So you're saying I should listen to you often," Daenerys replied, "if I allow you on my council."

"As you should, Your Grace. I have a wide array of knowledge to offer, for the time I am here. I won't be around long."

Daenerys lifted a hand. "Let's take things in stride. We first need to hear from the King in the North, and his Lady housed there beside him."

Melisandre nodded her head, following the Dragon Queen to the table and sat down beside her. Daenerys tapped her fingers against the wood of the table before beginning to circle her fingers through the carved edges. Melisandre watched these movements carefully, and said, "I believe both will answer. It's part of the prophecy."

"The Lord of Light doesn't have many followers in Westeros. Why was I chosen to part in a prophecy I wasn't born to believe in?"

"Even those who don't worship the Lord can serve His cause," Melisandre said, a smile hinting at the corners of her cheeks. "The Long Night is coming. Only the Prince Who Was Promised can bring the dawn."

Daenerys looked up at the Red Woman. "And you're sure this prophecy of yours refers to me?"

"Well, prophecies are ... dangerous things. I believe you have a role to play." Melisandre exhaled slowly, watching Daenerys' nose wrinkle in confusion. "As do two others. The King in the North, Jon Snow, and Lady Maia of House Sanders, known as only the Traveler. I'm sure you're aware from her letter sent to you in record time."

"I am aware," Daenerys responded. "I admit I responded because I was only intrigued by her house name; I didn't believe the rest of her letter. House Sanders supported my brother in the Rebellion, and I was told they were wiped out. You could say I was curious of her existence. What do you mean to call her a Traveler?"

"The Traveler is part of the prophecy. They are a companion to the Prince Who Was Promised, that will end the Long Night beside him or her. They have the power to travel to alternative universes and have the ability to travel into the past or future." The Red Priestess answered. "Maia Sanders, though she may have the name, is not from that house. She comes from an entirely different world, but as the history of the Traveler goes, they are reborn every fifty years with the last name of a Westerosi house. She was sent here as part of her destiny. She will help aid us, as well as Jon Snow."

Daenerys rested her chin on her fist. Melisandre said so much that it seemed to hurt her brain. Daenerys had been ready for the throne her entire life, but being part of a prophecy? That took time. She needed time.

Melisandre raised a brow before asking, "Do you believe me now?"

•••

Jon Snow held up the letter he received just this morning, allowing all of court to see. "This message was sent to me by Samwell Tarly."

Maia sat in her same spot, next to Brienne and Podrick. She felt the need to this time, as he legs seemed to get weaker by the days. She wasn't showing yet, but she had definitely gained weight. Maia subconsciously felt herself covering her stomach with her hands more often than not. Maester Wolkan was right – she was running out of time. Was she ready to bring another Stark bastard into this world?

"He was my brother at the Night's Watch," Jon continued, eyeing each and every man in the room. "A man I trust as much as anyone in this world. He's discovered proof that Dragonstone sits on a mountain of dragonglass."

The men in a room began to shuffle and whisper. Lord Glover held out his hand, to which Jon placed the letter in. Jon then held up his other hand that encased another letter, which Maia could only guess was from Tyrion. She felt her insides twist was with worry at the lords' reaction to what Jon was to say.

"I received this a few days ago, from Dragonstone." Jon took a moment to gather his words, his eyes meeting Maia's. Her stare practically encouraged him to continue, but all Jon could think about was how beautiful she always looked. He cleared his throat before continuing, "It was sent to me by Tyrion Lannister. He is now Hand of the Queen to Daenerys Targaryen. She intends to take the Iron Throne from Cersei Lannister. She has a powerful army at her back and – if this message is to be believed – three dragons."

The room erupted in shouts, and not good ones. Everyone was staring at Jon as if he were an idiot. Maia wanted to say something, even as she looked to Sansa, who was staring at Jon with confusion. But Maia knew she couldn't speak. She had to let him handle the court; he was their king after all. Davos watched the chaos rage on from his spot at the high table.

"Lord Tyrion has invited both me and Maia Sanders to Dragonstone to meet with Daenerys." Jon then turned, so that he was facing his sister. "And we're going to accept."

Sansa's mouth flew open in shock. Maia sat back in her seat, almost smug that she knew of this news first. Shouts of anger escalated throughout court, but Jon ignored them. "We need this dragonglass, my lords!" He exclaimed. "We know that dragonglass can destroy both White Walkers and their army. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons!" Jon looked to the men around him, who were all shaking their heads. "But more importantly, we need allies. The Night King's army grows larger by the day. We can't defeat them on our own. We don't have the numbers. Daenerys has her own army and she has dragon fire. I need to try and persuade her to fight with us."

Maia looked to Sansa again, who met her stare with anger in her eyes. She knew Sansa didn't approve of the plan, but treating at Dragonstone needed to be done. Sansa could say that Maia was a foreigner to Westeros all she wanted, but that doesn't excuse the fact that they needed Daenerys Targaryen, whether they liked it or not.

Jon sighed and nodded his head towards the high table. "Ser Davos, Lady Maia, and I will ride for White Harbor tomorrow, then sail for Dragonstone."

"Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather?" Sansa questioned loudly. "The Mad King invited him to King's Landing and roasted him alive."

"I know that," Jon quipped.

Sansa shook her head. "She is here to reclaim the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms. The North is one of those Seven Kingdoms. This isn't ... an invitation. It's a trap!" The red-head's narrowed eyes flew straight to Maia's. She seethed in her direction, "Lady Maia, you can't actually think this is a safe idea!"

"It needs to be done, Sansa." Maia replied. "We can't let opportunities like this go. If we have the chance to actually get another ally on our side, we need to risk it. Jon first trusted me, a stranger of the North. Now he needs put his trust in another stranger, because it is the best chance for your people."

Maia knew why Sansa had asked her. It wasn't that Sansa was exactly scared for her safety, but for the child inside of her. She didn't want it to be risked too.

"It could be a trap," Jon answered. "But I don't believe Tyrion would do that. You know him, Sansa. He's a good man."

Yohn Royce stood angrily. "Your Grace, with respect – I must agree with Lady Sansa. I remember the Mad King all too well. A Targaryen cannot be trusted, nor can a Lannister."

Maia closed her eyes for a moment, a pair of dark brown ones clouding her vision. The eyes of an infant; the eyes of a Jaeherys. She shook herself out of those thoughts.

Screams of agreement followed Yohn's statement, causing Lord Glover to shout, "We called your brother king, and then he rode South, and lost his kingdom."

"Winter is here, Your Grace." Lyanna Mormont added, her small stature just barely visible over the crowd. "We need the King in the North in the North."

Fists pounded against the tables. Jon blinked a few times. He looked to Maia again, who was staring at her fingers. He wondered if she was as conflicted as he was, but he already made his choice.

"You all crowned me your King. I never wanted it. I never asked for it." Jon rubbed his forehead before quickly sighing. The men around him held blank stares. "But I accepted it because the North is my home. It's part of me, and I will never stop fighting for it, no matter the odds. The odds are against us." He shook his head. "None of you have seen the army of the dead. None of you. We can never hope to defeat them alone. We need allies – powerful allies. I know it's a risk, but we have to take it."

Sansa finally stood. "Then send an emissary! Don't go yourselves!"

"Daenerys is a queen. Only a king can convince her to help us. It has to be me."

"You're abandoning your people!" Sansa shrieked, her hands forming into fists. "You're abandoning your home! You're abandoning your friends and family! Both of you are!"

Jon allowed a smirk to engulf his features. "I'm leaving both in good hands."

"Who's?"

"Yours."

Sansa's expression turned to contentment. Her brow raised.

"You are my sister. You're the only Stark in Winterfell." Jon explained. "Until I return, the North is yours."

Sansa smiled, a genuine, happy smile. Maia was actually ecstatic for her, for she didn't know Jon was going to grant her that. This was something Sansa truly wanted, and Maia had even given up Jon's proposal, among other reasons, just to give her this. She was meant to be Lady of Winterfell. Maia never wanted to take that away from her.

Slowly but surely, Maia looked up from her spot. Instead of seeing Jon nod, her vision went to Maester Wolkan, standing in the corner of court. He gestured his head in her direction, and Maia knew this was it. She had run out of time. She was to leave for Dragonstone tomorrow.

It was then that Maia decided to keep the child inside of her, and to ignore the stereotypes of bastard upbringing. She just needed to find a time through all the chaos to tell Jon. If only she knew how long that would take.