Sorrow and despair.

The two things seeming to be suffocating the entire camp.

Mourning had befallen everyone at the loss of the princess. His own heart had broken at seeing the little lass he had found years ago north of the Wall practically lifeless.

He can still hear the screams of both his monarchs that fateful day, the day when all will to fight was lost. He remembers how the Queen's dragon had landed next to the tent crushing everything in his path and upon seeing the princess, burnt the surrounding area. It had taken hours to put out the fires and for the dragon to stop his destruction.

Since then no one had even attempted to approach the monarchs with plans to continue forward. The entire camp was in a standstill mourning the little girl that had won most of their hearts.

He sighs, needing all his strength as he walks toward the tent where the princess lays with either parent watching over her.

It is his turn to check on his King and Queen, as those closest to them had taken it upon themselves to make sure the family got their basics for survival. He is not entirely sure who he will encounter this time, the despondent mother, or the distraught father.

Another deep breath and he pushes past the entrance of the tent and sees his king sitting in his now habitual spot, holding the seemingly lifeless hand of his daughter. A glance at the nearby table shows another plate of uneaten food gone to waste. He sighs knowing this is going to be another rough attempt to get his King to eat something. He doesn't see his queen in the tent which means she must be with the princes, the only place they have gone to besides this tent. At the foot of the princess's bed was Jon's loyal direwolf.

"My King, I have brought some fresh food," he says but it is as if he spoke to the wind as no reaction comes from his monarch. "Lad, I know you are upset but she would not want you to waste away."

"She hates me," his voice rasps, completely out of use, but that is not what shocks him. It is his words that shake him the most.

"Jon, what are you saying? That girl loves you more than anything," he tries to remind his King but the lad just shakes his head tears running down the marked tracks down his face.

"You weren't there. You did not see her eyes, how much fear and hatred she had towards me," Jon pauses, his eyes somehow seeming more lost than before. "Bran showed her what I did. How I killed them both."

This is the first time he hears about what happened in that tent and hearing these words from his King, explains much about his mood.

"I never wanted her to know. I never wanted her to see what kind of man her father was. An Oathbreaker, a Queenslayer, a K… kinslayer," Jon sobs out.

"You are no longer that man Jon. You learned, you bettered yourself and made yourself a man that your children could look up to, something some of us have never done," he says, but these words do not seem to reach his King. He sighs and decides to reveal something he has not done in years. "You are not the only one to kill his children, Jon."

This at least makes the lad look at him. The look the man gives him reminds him of his sons, the look of being lost and needing some guidance. Gods his sons would be his age, with families, children of their own. He needs to clear his throat to try to rid himself of the knot of raw emotion that had formed.

"My… my wife… she bore me seven sons and one by one I lead them to their deaths, fighting for a man that turned into nothing more than a religious fanatic," he can't help but rub the stumps where Stanis had taken his fingers. "Only two remain, but neither wants anything to do with me. I killed their brothers, abandoned their mother, and served a King that lead the realm into further despair."

He swallows trying once again to clear is grief.

"The only time I did right by them was when I served you and Daenerys and even then I failed," he says. "I am sorry for dragging you back into this life."

His King says nothing as he turns back to the still body of his daughter. A few minutes pass and he readies himself to leave when Jon speaks again.

"I… I still remember the first time I held her…"

He smiles.

"Aye, I still remember the first time I held my boys, it is not something a father forgets," he responds and the faintest of smiles forms on his King's face.

"She was such a tiny thing, I feared I would break her just by holding her, even more so when she screamed and I had to rock her," his King reminisces.

His mood then turns somber once again.

"I struggled back then, to know what was real and what wasn't," Jon confesses. "Half the time I believed I had imagined Daenerys coming back to life, that I was still alone beyond the wall. But the minute I held her, all that went away. It went away because there was no way I could imagine something so perfect, so pure."

The King caresses his daughter's face most likely remembering what that face looked like when she was born.

"She lifted the fog, brightened my world and everything suddenly seemed worth it."

His King pauses, wiping his tears and he finds himself wiping his own.

"She was my salvation, Davos. Her and Dany both. Without them, I would not be here. I would have ended my miserable life up North a long time ago," Jon confesses.

For the first time since he has known the beast, he hears a whine come from Ghost as it crawls closer to his master and places its head on his lap.

Jon also seems surprised by the direwolf's actions and simply runs his hand through the white fur.

"I know the men want to march, that there are whispers of madness but I… I can't…" Jon tries to explain.

"You can't leave her," he finishes and the King nods, turning his attention back to his daughter.

"Even if she hates me, if she wants me far away, I need her to wake, to be well. Nothing else matters," Jon says.

The tent opens and his Queen walks in. He stands up straight and bows slightly.

"My Queen," he says.

"Davos," she addresses, before turning to her husband. "Anything?" she asks pleading and her face falls when Jon simply shakes his head.

Of the two, his Queen has done the best keeping her composure, seeming almost emotionless before others and being the one to care for their other two children. However, he knows her own heart must be breaking at her daughter's condition. He watches as she walks towards the cot and sits upon it, taking her daughter's hand in one hand and her husband's in the other. Daenerys leans in placing a kiss on her daughter's brow and caressing her face gently.

"Please, my love, we need you to wake," her voice cracks in emotion. "Your Papa and I miss hearing you laugh, seeing you smile. Your brothers want to play with you and Drogon and Ghost wnt you to mount them. But please my love, you need to wake," his Queen begs her daughter.

He can tell this is a private moment and decides to leave, leaving the food he brought on the table and walking out of the tent, quietly. He almost crashes into Arya Stark who seems completely breathless and frantic most likely having just arrived from the Stormlands.

"I just heard. Is it true?" she asks.

He nods sadly and the young woman seems ready to walk around him and enter the tent but he stops her.

"Leave them, they need this time to themselves," he says and thankfully she seems to understand.

"I want to kill him," Arya practically growls. "I do not care if it is my brother's body I want to kill."

"That will not work, Lady Arya," a voice speaks behind them and they turn to find Kinvara standing there. "To rid us of this great evil, it must be the King." She then looks towards the tent sadly. "But all that seems lost until the princess is back."

"Is there anything you can do?" Arya asks.

"I am trying all I can. What I am starting to believe is that we need to wait for the princess to find her way back. Until she does, there is nothing we can do," Kinvara explains.

They nod sadly accepting that there is nothing for them to do.