As she strolls through the courtyard, she notices Rhaegal circling overhead.
Daenerys stops in her walk, having been on her way to where her children usually stayed, just on the outskirts of Winterfell. She turns around then, following along in the direction of where Rhaegal flew, surprised to see him touching down on the ground quite a distance away. She walks quickly and through the cover of the trees, she can see that Rhaegal is not alone where he's landed. No, in fact, the first thing that she sees is the vivid red hair peaking through the trees. It's Sansa Stark standing there, facing her dragon without an ounce of fear on her features, truly a surprising sight to behold. And then there is Jon at her side, stepping out from beside her to reach for Rhaegal- for her dragon.
They approach him as if he belongs to them, as if Rhaegal is not her own child, born from the funeral pyre of her own dead husband. She can still recall the feel of his warm scales against her belly. A shudder races through her as she watches Sansa reach out, her glove removed as she places her palm against Rhaegal's head. Her dragon is purring, a sound Daenerys rarely even hears herself, and she's full of white hot rage yet again. For a moment, she thinks about showing herself to them, in fact she thinks about taking her dragons from this place entirely. But she can't walk away, not yet.
And then... Something else entirely happens.
She watches in silence as Rhaegal leans down his massive head, his snout nuzzling against Sansa's belly. Anger curls in her own belly and it leaves her barely breathing; Daenerys clenches her fists at her sides as Jon laughs, his own hand patting at the dragon before them, his snout still yet resting against the Stark girl's belly. It cannot be, Daenerys thinks as she sags against the tree, it just cannot be. She watches as Jon's hand pulls from Rhaegal and instead slips into place against Sansa's belly, his face full of pride and joy. Though she could not believe it, Daenerys knows what this scene before her means. And now she understands the words Sansa had spoken to her only a few days before... The child isn't a bastard. Jon had fathered her babe, clearly before he had even sailed for Dragonstone so many weeks ago.
It's a moment later that Rhaegal takes off and Sansa is laughing as she points up at him, her and Jon's hands still yet clasped across her belly. They speak words she cannot hear then and turn as if they mean to walk towards where Daenerys stands. She remains frozen for only a moment, until her anger begins to thaw her out, and she turns on the spot and makes her way back towards Winterfell. Now she's beginning to understand- Jon never loved her, never cared about her at all. He had done this all for her, for that redheaded woman he was supposed to call sister. He had done it for her armies and her dragons and for nothing else. It had not been for her or his love for her. Daenerys feels no sorrow, only anger.
And they will know it.