Thank you to everyone who has read this story so far! We rejoin our pair, having learned that, indeed, people noticed Dany was missing. I played with flashbacks in this chapter, so it is a bit anachronistic.
If you feel inclined, please leave a review and let me know what you think.
Though she had been at sea many times with no issue, Dany felt increasingly seasick as waves of varying sizes tugged at the boat. She lay under heavy furs, back pressed uncomfortably against a lumpy satchel and head against a seat plank.
It was stuffy hidden beneath the furs and she longed for a breath of cool night air, the last of which she had taken what felt like hours ago. How long has it actually been? Agitation of not knowing gnawed at the lead in her stomach. She felt a sting from her cuticles, and briefly wondered when she had started pulling at them.
Another large wave rocked the boat, causing her stomach lead to fizzle and burn. Had she eaten anything in the past week, she would have relieved her stomach of it by now. Or earlier, as her panic and nausea had begun before they even set off in the tiny boat.
"Get up," Jon had said brusquely as he rose from in front of the fireplace, pulling at Dany's hands to rise as well, "Get up, we haven't much time."
"For what?" Dany asked, bewilderment painting her flushed face. Mind still buzzing from allowing herself to think of Missandei, she barely registered what was happening or what he had said.
Jon grabbed a stray satchel left beside the fireplace, hastily moving about the chamber and stuffing several candles, a sheaf of parchment, quills, and a small bowl into the bag. He took Dany's second pair of shoes and stuck them in as well, then yanked off two of the furs from the bed and tossed them to her.
"Jon what - what are you doing?" Dany spluttered, having had one fur hit her in the face as she stared open-mouthed at the whirlwind Northman tearing up her bedchamber.
"Leaving," he said as he shoved several uneaten pieces of bread into the satchel as well. He turned back to her, breathing heavily. His eyes had darkened with a grim intensity Dany had only seen once before, when Death himself had come to Winterfell. He picked up the second fur that she had missed catching and handed it to her. "We're leaving."
"What?" she exclaimed, somehow now holding Jon's hand along with the furs and quietly running out of the bedchamber, turning right onto a corridor leading north, "No. No, we're not. Jon, no!"
Being half-dragged, she attempted to pull him to a halt and stumbled instead, falling to her knees in a heap of heavy furs. She looked up to see his hand stretched out to her in aid and stubbornly knit her eyebrows together, refusing took take the aid. "Tell me what is going on!" she demanded in a harsh whisper, "Tell me or - or - or -"
"Or what?" Jon snapped back to her, matching her tone and glancing over his shoulder, "Varys tried to convince me to turn on you. Apparently Sansa has tried something similar. Don't you see? It's not going to stop. It's never going to stop for us. All this ends in is more death. Creating more nothing for more people to fight over. I don't want the throne, Dany. If you do, fine, but deep down you know it isn't worth it."
Dany opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. More nothing to fight over. Her life, her purpose, her throne, it had become nothing but death. Once, in a warmer place, she had sworn to protect people from the tyrants who caused them harm. Now what am I? Flashes of memory raced through her mind. The panicked screams of people nailed to stakes. Burning flesh. A soldier throwing up his hands to shield his doomed body from fire. Her khalasar disappearing into the night. A glint of silver in the sunlight as it came down upon the neck of someone too good for the world...
She grasped Jon's hand and allowed him to pull her up off the floor. Right arm clamped around the furs, she began to run next to him as they headed to the northern shore.
"Stay down, there's still a lot of torches," Jon whispered to Dany, breaking her concentration on pulling at a particularly stubborn cuticle on her right thumb. She winced, feeling the burn of it in entirety.
They couldn't be far away then, if Jon could still see the shore. Within moments of them pushing off from the shore, Jon had described the beach being swarmed with torches. The realization that they were so close to being found running away haunted Dany. One more mistake to add to my list.
They were mere feet from the water's edge, having raced along quietly down the steps and avoided the guarding soldiers by the grace of the gods, when Dany pulled to a halt for a second time.
"We need to leave," Jon hissed, tugging at her hand. He glanced at the weak firelight a few yards to the left of them. It was virtually the only light, as the moon, though peeking through the clouds, was dull and yellowed. Tyrion's figure could just be made out against the dancing flames, undoubtedly waiting for the two people hidden amongst the shadows behind him.
"Drogon," Dany murmured. Her child. How was she to leave him? She let go of Jon's hand, turning to run back towards the castle. Before making it a step, however, his hand braced her arm.
"Let me go, Jon. I can't just leave him!"
"You have to," Jon said evenly, though Dany could hear the suppressed notes of anxiety and exasperation in his voice. She made to ignore him, to continue running, but he held her back. "Dany, he's a dragon. The only direction he'd be flying is towards us again - towards you. That's away from the Scorpions."
He tugged at her hand again and said, "Come on, we need to move." Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be led to the water, hitching up the furs a little higher in her other arm. She heard other footsteps running in the distance and the figure against the firelight shifted as they reached the edge of the water.
How Jon had known a boat was here, she didn't ask. Treading carefully into the shallow, lapping waves, he dropped the satchel into the boat.
Wordlessly, he helped Dany in, motioning for her to lay down. "I'll tell you when it's safe to come out," he said to her before taking the furs and descending her into more pitch darkness than before.
A gentle hand rocked Dany awake. It stopped as she stirred, but she continued to rock without it. Where am I? Scrunching up her still-closed eyes, she pushed her sleepy mind to remember the past night's events. Her eyes hurt from the weak light caressing her face with little warmth. Light? Dany opened her eyes, sticky with sleep and stray tears, to look up at the pale, clear sky.
Although there was light, part of Dany's face fell in shadow. Turning towards the shadow, she found Jon looking over her.
"Where," she started, pausing to clear her hoarse throat, "Where are we?"
"Coming up on Crackclaw Point by the end of the day," he replied, squinting into the east. He looked back down at Dany and mindlessly brushed hair from her face.
Dany continued to stare at him, mind turning with the enormity of what he had said. She listened to the calm water sounds, the wind, and strained in vain to hear for anything else.
We left. They had actually fled Dragonstone and were headed somewhere else. For the first time since she had fallen asleep - when did that happen? - the lead began creeping back into her stomach. This time, however, it was battling an immense swooping sensation that Dany shamefully did not want to name.
"You needed the rest. But I made sure you didn't have to stay under the furs," Jon said, "once I couldn't see the torches anymore. No ships seem to have followed us, though. For now, at least."
Dany sat up, turning to look past the back of the boat. She couldn't see Dragonstone any longer, just water on every side.
"Crackclaw Point?" she asked.
"And north from there," Jon said, "We'll make our way around Dyre Den and find another boat to get to the Vale. We can travel away from the towns, away from Westeros."
Dany surveyed him, scanning his face in particular. Leave Westeros? But what choice did they have, she reasoned. The silent answer came gravely: More death. Dany took a deep breath in, trying to calm the many sensations battling in her stomach. Today, she vowed, I choose life.
"Beyond the Wall?" she guessed. Jon nodded and she returned his nod with a dip of her head. So be it.
Just to note: I have not read A Song of Ice and Fire, but am working really hard to stay true to the worldbuilding and, in particular, the geography and demographics of the area. I am currently using a map by theMountainGoat which I don't believe is the most updated version...but works as well as A Wiki of Ice and Fire. If anyone has other sources that may help with continuity, please let me know!
Until next time.