Chapter Text
It is not easy to convince a nation to change its ways, men do not give up what they know nor cast aside beliefs that have been handed down for generations easily; but that was Daenerys dream for Westeros. And that was what she asked, so that was what Jorah threw his energy into, beginning on Dragonstone and in King's Landing; removing the first few spokes of the wheel.
As each moon passed the city around them changed as did his wife's body and Jorah listened closely to the whispers that raced through the streets. The whole of Westeros knew their Queen was with child and that she had plans for this continent. Plans that the great houses feared, and an army they were hesitant to face.
The lands of the Reach, now ruled by House Tarly had been divided, families that lived there remained but the plains once belonging to the Tyrells were now home to the Dothraki horde with fresh tall grass for the horses and High Tower was the Unsullied garrison, men took turns rotating from guard duties in the capital to spend their off time in the fields of the Reach, aiding Sam in maintaining and farming the richest lands of Westeros.
Few of the nobles were pleased about that, but the most powerful families were aligned with the Queen, relying upon her in one way or another; Jorah worked to ensure they stayed that way. Urging her to slow her plans for the kingdoms, to focus on one task at a time and allowing him to track those who voiced dissent.
In King's Landing the soup kitchens had not fixed the problems, nor had finding work for the men; none could force them to spend their wages on their families and not the taverns or go home instead of drinking until they were passed out in the streets or fighting mad. Nor could any afford the homes where they squatted, run down and filthy.
It was through one of those homes that he shadowed his wife, only the first of many blocks; he saw the frustration in her face. They had brokered a deal with Jamie Lannister, his empty gold mines were to become quarries, already cut stone flowed into the capitol but work was slowed as the Unsullied had to route people from the crumbling buildings each morning, only to have them return by nightfall.
“Can any afford these homes?” They were far from the high streets where the nobles and wealthy had their homes. Work crews had just finished turning the ruined Sept of Baylor into a public square with a well with several handles to draw up water and properly fixing the streets and gutters.
“No, and if the middle class can convinced to buy them thousands will be displaced.” He spoke plainly, in truth he was eager to get her back to the Red Keep and ideally her bed; Daenerys energy dwindled as their child grew.
But she would not be kept from her duties, and though she turned many things over to him she did not intend to be oblivious to the plans they made. This was the next phase of restorations she had ordered, it was this work that would keep the men of King's Landing working and earning an income for the next several moons.
“What about apartments? One room for couples and two for families, each could house more people and we will assign them based on the census.” She asked, stepping back quickly and before he could deal with the rat that skittered across in front of them an Unsullied soldier kicked it away, Jorah steadied his wife.
“We will have plans drawn up.” He promised, rubbing the small of her back where he knew it bothered her.
As she nodded they turned towards the doorway and fresh air once more; it would take months, if not years to establish the standard of living she wanted for the small folk; even longer in the outlying areas of the seven kingdoms where he knew landowners would challenge them. But as he helped her up into the carriage he knew she would become fiercer when their child came; the babe was a motivator for them both.
“I think I will lay down.” She murmured when he climbed in beside her, rapping sharply on the door to get them going. “Your son kicks incessantly, I fear what he will do when he discovers it is far easier to move outside of me.”
“You are sure it is a boy?” He teased lightly, it was her who was tempered and hot blooded; he wondered if it would not be a girl meant to conquer men and dragons alike.
“We should know soon.” His wife murmured, rubbing her side a moment; the midwives said she had a little longer but he knew she was uncomfortable and impatient to meet the child.
When he returned her to their chamber, tucking her into bed with the dragon egg cradled to her chest Jorah went down to hear the afternoon's petitions. Daenerys had sat the throne for a few hours this morning, but he’d ordered the Unsullied to keep the bulk of them for him; she pushed herself too hard. Yes she had an obligation to hear her people, but he had a greater obligation to her; and getting her some rest was a part of that.
The first were minor disputes, one man claimed he had been unfairly banned from a particular work crew and another that his ration was not enough; the first had fought with the foreman and the second wasted his income on the alehouses; neither were pleased with his judgements.
But then a young woman came in, a babe on one hip and a toddler tugging at her hand, she tried to kneel but he waved it off. This woman had a true petition, her husband was a drunk and with two young children she could not work herself for she had no kin to watch over them; she needed a way to provide for her children.
And Jorah winced, trying to think of a way to help her, he could not begin issuing more allowances for then their court would be flooded with claims true and false. At his side Missandei cleared her throat. “There are others in her position, perhaps she could work at the soup kitchens, there older children often watch the younger while the women cook and serve the meal.”
“I can cook.” The woman volunteered eagerly.
“If there are others in your position we do not need another cook as much as someone to tend the children. Can a room be found in the building or nearby where the children could be congregated?” He knew in the various kitchens space was limited; But they only had to start with one.
They might not entirely break the cycle of poverty, there would be some who never wanted to work to provide for themselves; but any who did needed the opportunity. And women with little ones could be the most vulnerable, for it seemed the ale houses and wine sinks always had a trade.
....
She did not sleep, but only curled onto her side, holding the charred dragon's egg close, while it became warm and trembled her child rested; as though soothed by its touch. As Drogon was hers this egg was meant for her babe; the two were already bonded. And Daenerys was eager to meet them both.
However she was not sure the intended arrival was as eagerly awaiting in all parts of Westeros, while the North, and the Riverlands were gladly hers, many lesser lords and southerners would not be pleased to see her house grounded with a child; Targaryen succession secured. The only reason they hadn’t had too many issues was the army loyal to her that lived in the Reach and patrolled the streets of Kings Landing.
There were complaints filtering in from various parts of the south telling tales of small folk starving in winter towns as the Lord’s hoarded food supplies, expecting a long and brutal winter. Her decree was for resources to be traded, in the years since Dragon's Bay had been liberated from slavery trade with slave cities had dropped off; increasing their trade with Westeros was good for both nations. Distributing it was the problem, while Sansa had efficiently set up supply lines spanning the largest kingdom, bringing ships to White harbor and Bear Island to serve the small and remote communities it was the Lord’s of the more densely populated south she struggled with.
In a few areas she had control and while there was much still to be done progress could always seen. The small folk of Kings Landing were not skin and bone, starving in the streets and none cowered when the dragons soared overhead. On Dragonstone the quarries were in operation and there was work for all who were willing, smith’s were learning the art of weapon making in Dragon glass; making the weapons they had used in the war look crude and clumsy.
One of the best pieces had been made by Lord Baratheon, and had been a gift to her husband, before the smith began dealing with his own lesser lords uprising; skeptical of a bastard being legitimized. Jorah had marched their army to the Stormlands and the sight of the standing army had been enough to quell it; things in Westeros had changed. Those who supported her could expect her strength to ride out for them; and the Dothraki liked to ride.
It had put down the unrest but it had not silenced the highborn whispers, or made them keep her decrees and Daenerys had noticed. The small folk were taking hold of her reign, and her orders, and though some were journeying to the capitol to ask for her help, and she knew there were thousands more unable to make the journey; as of yet she was not sure how to fix that. While the wardens she had appointed could be trusted, they did not fully see her vision for it wasn't theirs; and many were dealing with older craftier banner men who had their own agendas.
Daenerys roamed towards the throne room, knowing her husband would still be there, only pausing as she noticed her children soaring over the sea. Beautiful in flight and still growing, even at a distance Daenerys could tell them apart as they fished.
Except after a moment she realized they weren’t fishing but swooping about a ship coming into the bay. With a sigh she glanced to Missandei who shadowed her, and still slim was capable of moving far quicker. “Have the guard’s slaughter some sheep, and find out what banners that ship flies.”
With a nod her friend was gone, having dragons living so close to a city of people was difficult at times. Thankfully the dragons liked the cliffs for their lairs and fished for most meals, but intelligent and curious they could create chaos. It had taken the people of the city time to get used to them flying over to the Red Keep where they perched upon the walls or in the courtyard and waited for her; screeching their displeasure if disturbed by gawkers or foolish feats.
The smell of fresh lamb would bring them to the courtyard, and hopefully the sailors could be calmed; she had seen no fire so they should be unharmed. Daenerys watched until the dragons turned towards land and then continued down the stairs and stepped out into the cold gray day, a thin layer of snow coated the city but farther north it was reported that snow was already waist deep; even the Reach had a thin spattering.
Her husband and many others said it was typical of a winter after such a long summer, but with the war at the turn of the season Daenerys was still worried. The cold had been deadly here so she knew the effects would be felt throughout Westeros and today it felt like more snow might come.