"It's nothing to be worried - ow - about, Dany," Jon insisted, flinching as she dabbed a cloth over his shredded side.
"It looks as though you got attacked by a shadowcat," she countered, dabbing perhaps a little more roughly than needed, "You shouldn't have been up there today, Jon."
Jon's face scrunched up and he spoke through gritted teeth. "Just thorns. And it wasn't bad, I just slipped. Although it is a rose bush. I fou-."
"Glad you got a good look at it," she cut him off, rolling her eyes.
In the past few months, Jon had been building a small barn in the clearing a little way from the house. Though they didn't have any livestock yet, the two had decided to work towards trading for a couple of mountain sheep and goats after the baby was born. The animals were hardy enough to withstand the northern cold and Dany liked the idea of having fresh milk and cheese to add to their fairly sparse diet.
Not that we'll be able to do it if Jon offs himself, she thought harshly, though fear gripped her stomach at the thought.
So close to the end of her pregnancy, Dany had been unable to go anywhere much past the clearing where their house was. Jon had stayed as close to home as well, but also tried to stay busy. For him, that meant working on the barn nearly every day - climbing up on the icy roof and risking his stupid neck.
Progress on the barn had been halted for today, however, after Jon lost his footing on ice. Fast as she could waddle, Dany had come out of the house, her face wrought with panic at the sound of him falling. She found him engulfed in the evergreen bushes that he had left at the barn's side. Fortunately, they softened the fall. Unfortunately, they had not just been evergreen bushes, but evergreens and rose bushes mixed together. The result was cuts and scrapes and a few thorns embedded into him. Worst was the gash on his side that she was currently tending to. Perhaps not as bad as a shadowcat, but it's still pretty deep. And what if the bushes hadn't even been there?
Dany tried to push down the anxiety of what may have been, but it spooked her all the same and she found herself feeling angry at Jon for it. Why do you have to be reckless starting now? And why do you have to keep squirming when I try to clean this?
"It's clean," she told him in a clipped tone, "Just let me grab a couple cloths to wrap it up."
"Don't see why you need to if it's just covered by the shirt," Jon said impatiently. Dany bit her tongue to hold back a reply as she turned around.
She waddled through the clean house to grab the cloths that she had stacked in a basket near the fire. They were by the foot of the bed yesterday, but she felt that a better place was by the fire. To Jon's annoyance, this had been happening a lot in the last few days. Though they had very few possessions, all of them had been subjected to moving around the large single room. Every time Jon walked into the house, even if he had only been outside for an hour, the inside looked different.
"How can anyone tidy this much?" he had said grumpily the day before, though he shut up once Dany narrowed her eyes testily.
The inside of the house felt different as well. Tension seemed to crackle in the air and she and Jon had not been able to go an hour without snapping at each other over something: Jon on the roof, Dany moving their things, "it's too hot," "it's too cold," "why can't you sit still?," "why can't you sit still?"
Dany was eternally restless. She felt as if she couldn't sit still (Jon was right about that, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it), but couldn't walk well either. The poor turn the weather had taken made it all the worse. Suddenly, the consistent melt of snow each day had turned to a deep freeze that made going outside like walking on glass. It either broke or resulted in whizzing across the clearing trying to balance, which was quite difficult if you were heavily pregnant and needed to relieve yourself. Therefore, she was virtually confined indoors. She had spent the long hours pacing and rearranging, looking outside the window at yet another snowfall, or laying down feeling tired but strangely energized and staring at the roof.
Willa, on her visit the day before, told her it was completely normal to feel this way. "Like a mother bird making a nest for when she lays her eggs," she had explained, "Everything has to be perfect and you're anxious to get to the laying part."
I don't feel perfect, Dany thought, walking back over to where Jon sat. Her back was killing her and her feet and ankles felt swollen and stretched. The baby kicked often and she had been finding it more discomforting and less miraculous than before. She was moving so awkwardly that she felt like a foal before it realized how its legs worked. Helpless and frustrated.
Though pregnant once before, Dany could barely remember if this had been a part of it towards the end, when her world fell apart in blood and despair. She prayed daily to any gods listening that it was different this time, but when her thoughts strayed from how awful she felt, they turned to the dark half-memories of Rhaego's birth. Held at bay for so long, the thoughts of her son that never lived had begun to seep into her nightmares where a faceless, nameless child screamed sickeningly in the darkness but Dany could not go to him.
The lower part of her stomach panged. Stop it, she snapped in her thoughts. She had begun having irregular contractions a few days before, but Willa was certain Dany wasn't going into labor just yet. Still, Dany found these contractions agitating and uncomfortable. Trying to breathe deeply through her nose and out through her mouth like she had been shown, Dany placed one cloth on Jon and went to wrap the other strip around him.
He flinched, squirming, and the cloth dropped away.
"Ow, Dany!" Jon chastised, glaring at her.
"Sepār umbagon nykeēdrosa!" she yelled, feeling tears prick at her eyes as a torrent of anger overtook her and she felt her temper go beyond her control. Her stomach was still clenching, she felt awkward enough as it was, and Jon wouldn't let her just. put. this. wrapping. on. How hard is this to do?
"Dany - " he started.
"No, Jon! Just leave me alone! Fall off a thousand roofs for all I care!" she shouted, chucking the cloths onto the bed and waddling off, grabbing her sheepskin coat and pulling her over her head as she wrenched the door open and slammed it on the way out.
Fuming, and deliberately stamping to crunch her slow way across the snowy in the clearing, Dany found herself headed to the lean-to. They had left it up and cleared of snow for some extra shelter. Jon skinned the animals he caught out here and it was where Ghost could be found if he wasn't next to one of them or exploring the woods.
The white direwolf lifted his head as Dany approached and gave a low whine as she sank down ungracefully next to him and buried her face in his flank, allowing the tears that had been threatening inside to finally spill over. She fisted his fur in her hand as her body became wracked with violent sobs from anger and fear.
I can't do this, she panicked, I can't do this. How am I supposed to do this? Despair gripped at her from inside and she could not shake the dark feeling that she was headed down the exact same path as last time.
Her breathing came in short gasps and she felt Ghost move his massive front to nose Dany worriedly and whine. Slowly, she sat up to look at him, still breathing heavily with silent tears running down her red face. "Am I being ridiculous?" she asked him through gasps. The direwolf laid his head on her lap in comfort, licking her hand. It was soothing to sit there and feel Ghost's rhythmic licks. Dany could feel her heart begin to slow, and the fear that had overtaken her moments ago seemed to dissipate. It's not the same as last time, she told herself firmly, you're not alone. Even if she was still angry with Jon, Ghost was here.
The direwolf nudged Dany again, putting his nose to her swollen belly. In what Dany would swear was a reaction, the baby kicked directly at him and Ghost recoiled, startled with his ear pricked forward.
Dany sniveled a short laugh through her remaining tears as Ghost moved back in for a closer look. His ear swiveled as the baby continued to kick and he cocked his head back and forth listening.
"Is there a baby in there?" she asked, scratching the direwolf's big white head.
So focused on Ghost, Dany didn't notice Jon until he was stooped at the entrance of the lean-to. She stopped scratching the direwolf, regarding Jon and his solemn expression with a fixed glare. Very aware of her red face and glassy eyes, she tried to look as pissed off as possible at him.
"Dany," he said, apology etched across his face, "Can I sit down?"
Dany felt herself involuntarily soften at his words. "You may," she replied, her voice noticeably hoarse.
Sitting in silence, both watched as Ghost continued to stare enamored at Dany's stomach until Jon spoke.
"I'm sorry, Dany. I didn't mean to make you upset. I won't go up on the roof again until the ice is cleared," he told her solemnly.
"Jon, it's - "
"No, I mean it. I wasn't thinking about you. I was being selfish trying to get the barn done. I was a big - "
Dany held her hand up to his mouth to stop him. "It's not the working on the barn," she told him, "I know you want to get that done. It's just…" She trailed off, feeling the tears sting her eyes again and trying to find the words. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to do this," she said, gesturing to her stomach, "And I'm...scared. Last time, I lost everything. My whole life fell apart around me. And this time...Jon, I don't know what I would do! I know it's ridiculous to think that the same thing would happen again. But...when you fell off the roof today, when I heard you, I was so scared. I can't lose anyone else. Especially not you. I can't, Jon, I - "
Cut off, Jon pulled Dany into a strong hug. She melted into him as his embrace only tightened and one hand came to stroke her hair, wet with melted snow.
"You won't, Dany," he whispered, "You won't be alone. I won't leave you. I promise."
Dany closed her eyes, breathing deeply and letting his scent and words wreath around her in comfort. Once, when she was in Vaes Dothrak, the scents of the Western Market gave her memory pangs of a home she couldn't picture. Now, however, she was certain that home smelled like Jon. And she could picture it. Dany's stomach clenched unpleasantly again, but it was bearable. It's okay, little one, she soothed, we're going to be okay.
Lips pressed to Dany's hair and she heard Jon give a contented sigh before the pressure left her head and he moved to look at her. "I have something for you," he said.
Cocking one eyebrow, Dany looked at him expectantly. From behind him, Jon produced a rose. Not red or white, but the palest blue like the morning frost upon the trees. It looked so delicate, Dany half-thought it may simply shatter from contact with the air.
"It's a winter rose, like the ones in the Winterfell glass gardens," Jon said, gently handing Dany the rose, "Before, I was trying to tell you that I found some in the barn bushes - they're quite rare."
Gingerly, Dany stroked one of the petals and a small smile glimpsed across her face.
"It's beautiful," she said as she looked back up at him, "Thank you. And...I'm sorry too. For snapping at you about the wrapping. I'm just really uncomfortable right now."
"I understand," Jon said, taking her hand, "But that's why I wanted you to have the rose. On that bush, most of them are just bulbs right now. It made me think of you, you know, getting ready to bloom. You're creating something beautiful and preparing to bring it into the world. It's the most incredible thing I've ever seen." He smiled, bringing their hands to her stomach where the baby still kicked.
Dany returned the smile with her own, stroking her thumb over Jon's hand. "I can't wait to meet them," she said quietly.
Nodding, Jon replied, "Nor can I."
Shifting positions, Dany nestled herself between Jon's legs and his arms encircled her and came around her stomach. She placed her hands over his and they sat in the lean-to, feeling their child move and watching the snow fall into the clearing, simply enjoying being together.
Until next time.