"How likely is it that if I said you don't need to know what's on the horizon, you'd listen?" Jon asked Dany, lowering the spyglass. His face was constipated, as if he did not know how to react to what he had seen.

"Highly unlikely, bordering on ridiculous," Dany replied coolly.

Jon sighed, sharing a look with Tormund. "That's what I thought," he said.

"What is it?" Willa asked.

"A ship," Tormund said gruffly, "Not a boat. Only one but…"

A ship? Dany felt herself go cold. She was suddenly holding Rose much more tightly as her mind raced. A ship was not any old free folk raft floating adrift on the sea or a Thenn vessel which, even for all the talk of Thenns acting savagely civilized and haughty, Dany knew was not much past crude. A ship sailed with purpose for a destination and knew what it was doing. A ship did not simply wander up to a cliffside that it did not belong at. A ship knew why it was coming to a specific place. It was commissioned. Commanded to places by someone who could build something like a ship to serve their interests outside of one area.

"What sails did it have?"

"Dany…" Jon started, the way he always did when he didn't believe she was going to react well. His eyes were wide and cautious and he placed a hand on Dany's shoulder.

Immediately, she shifted away from him. I need answers, not caution, she thought angrily. "What. Sails. Did it have?" she asked again. Her gaze raked from Jon to Tormund and back again.

Jon sighed again, defeated, before answering. "Direwolf," he told her, "They're direwolf sails."

Brilliant.

Taking a deep breath, Dany turned on her heel to leave the cliffs. "Well," she said, in a voice that did not match how she felt, "At least we know who they're here for."

The silver and gold egg that sat atop the mantle Jon carved and placed over the fireplace continually drew Dany's eye. She was sitting at the table in her house with Jon, Willa, and Tormund while Rose napped in her room. It was dull right now, but Dany expected it would flash if she stared at it long enough. Lately, the pulsed glow coming from it had been happening more often and Dany hoped it was because of the egg's near-continuous warmth overtop the fire. Not much of a nest, but it seemed friendlier than Saphira's nest below the Mammoth's Head. Although the Scarlet and Violet seemed to think otherwise, Dany absently mused remembering the two new hatchlings.

It felt warm to the touch now when she placed her hand on it. Not the same warmth that had emitted from Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion's eggs when she held them, but one of comfort and, hopefully, rejuvenated life.

Though everyone else had been extensively discussing the sudden appearance of a Stark ship seemingly coming to shore, Dany felt unable to keep up in the conversation. Her thoughts drifted to the dragons in the north and in her home, then returned to the looming shadow on their horizon.

Why now? What had changed? And how did they even know where to go? Despite being in her house, she felt uncomfortably exposed. Much to her chagrin, nobody else seemed to share the sentiments. Jon sat back in his chair as he listened to Tormund. Willa absently played with one of her many braids, interchanging between looking at Tormund and at the ends of her hair.

"Best plan would probably be to just wait and see if they even land," Tormund was saying, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair, "It's only one ship. I doubt they're coming to be hostile."

Willa nodded in agreement. "Word has been traveling about villages like Shadowedge," she said wisely, "Perhaps they've come to trade, seeing as the free folk and the Southerners are no longer enemies."

"So you're saying it's just a coincidence that a Stark ship shows up where one of the last Starks lives?" Dany asked dubiously.

"There aren't many other places to go along the coast," Willa replied, shrugging.

"And how would any Southerners know Dany and I are here?" Jon added, "Most people that have passed through Shadowedge have never met us, we were away for a month."

The answer to Jon's question fell on Dany with the full weight of a dragon. How did they know she and Jon were here? In an answer to the thought, her mind flew back to memories of the maester's quarters at Castle Black, where she and Jon had written letters. Letters that, more than a year ago, Dany had sent off with ravens destined for the South.

Jon's words of that night echoed in her head. "To Sam. To explain. Sam will know what to do."

"It was you," Dany whispered, her eyes fixed on a point beyond Jon, but her intent clear.

"Wh-what?" Jon replied incredulously, "Me?" Willa and Tormund were staring at Dany as well.

"You wrote the letter to Sam! You told him where we were! You said he'd know what to do!" Dany blamed. Her voice had raised and she found herself standing, pointing at Jon. Hot anger flushed to her cheeks and not even Jon's disbelieving and hurt look could stop her.

Dany looked away from him. "Well I hope you're happy," she muttered darkly, "A reunion to look forward to."

She did not speak to anyone for the rest of the day.

Dany lay on her bed in the corner of the house, facing the wall. Blearily, exhausted from the seething anger that had filled her so suddenly, she continually stared at one notch of the wall. In the background, she could hear voices but did not focus on what they were saying. Soon after she had taken up her position on the bed, the voices dwindled and the only sound left was Jon's steps around the house.

A few times, Dany thought she heard him walk over to the bed and stop right next to her, but she never turned around and he never said anything. Instead, he turned around and walked off again.

After a while, the sounds of an awake Rose and Ghost joined Jon's sounds. In the back of her mind, Dany knew that she should be up. She should be helping with Rose and being a mother instead of a petulant child in the midst of a silent tantrum about something that couldn't change now. But how could she face Jon with what he'd done?

And then our life came crashing down, she thought angrily. That was it, wasn't it? They had run all the way from Dragonstone to beyond the Wall to build a life for themselves away from the Southern scheming and houses and titles and now they would be faced with the consequences.

Since when did the Starks ever trade with the free folk? Willa had been reaching when she suggested that. He should have never sent that letter at Castle Black. The thought made her pause: When had Tormund told them about Shadowedge? But before Dany could think any further, the notch melted from view as her eyes closed.

"Dany?" a quiet voice called, pulling Dany out of slumber. As she opened her eyes, Dany found that the house had fallen into the gloamy light of dusk. She figured she must have turned over in her sleep, for she could see Jon's face staring down over her.

He looked tired, his eyes glazed and his hair disheveled. "Can I sit down?" he asked.

Dany nodded slowly, shifting over to make more room for him.

"How's Rose?" Dany asked, voice cracking with the poor attempt to make small conversation. The thoughts she'd had before falling asleep rushed back to her, and Dany felt like a horrible fool for what she had said.

"Fine," Jon said, "She ate and I put her down to sleep easily. Ghost's in there with her. I brought you food."

He offered her a bowl of stew, still warm, and Dany sat up to take it from him. "Thanks," she said, to which Jon nodded. He didn't quite look at Dany, instead focusing on the furs. She could see, even in the dusky light, that he was chewing at the inside of his lips, on the verge of speaking.

"Jon, I - "

"Dany, I - "

She smirked slightly at their simultaneous speech. "Go ahead," she told him.

"I know you're angry with me, but- "

"I'm not - "

"Hold on, let me finish," Jon told her, "I didn't tell Sam where we were settling. I didn't even tell him that we were at Castle Black. I did say that we were with the free folk for the time being, but nothing else. Not even that it was permanent. All I did was explain what had happened and why we had left. Said that they could choose what to do next, that it wasn't my choice or your choice anymore, and that we weren't coming back. And I told him that he could choose what to do with the letter. That's all. Believe me, Dany, I'm no happier about seeing that ship than you are. I swear I didn't lead anyone here."

His eyes bore directly into hers with his final words, as if promising beyond absolute doubt that he was being truthful. He doesn't need to, Dany thought shamefully.

"I know, Jon," she admitted quietly, taking his hand. He cocked an eyebrow at this, but returned her gesture with a squeeze of his hand around hers.

Dany continued, "I know it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry. I was just so caught up in what was happening, I looked for someone to blame and...it was you.

"I know you didn't tell Sam. We didn't even know we were going to Shadowedge until well after we had gotten beyond the Wall. I was just lashing out. I'm just so angry and...scared. We left all this behind! Even if it turns out to just be a coincidence that a ship with Stark banners is coming ashore, what a horrid trick of the gods! I never thought past leaving all of Westeros behind and never seeing anyone again. What if I can't face whoever comes off that ship?"

She thought of Ser Davos, who was nothing but kind only to have the two people he'd sworn to follow leave in the dead of night without a word. Of Ser Brienne, a knight Dany had great respect for, who would consider it the highest treason to become a deserter. Of Arya, Jon's favorite sister whom he had left without a word to for Dany. And of Sansa, whom Dany wanted dead the last time she thought of her.

All people whom she had betrayed, left behind, or acted the tyrant towards. Even wishing death upon them, sowing more violence rather than trying to end it. I don't miss that feeling, Dany thought, a sick feeling of disgust rising in her throat like bile as she remembered the Daenerys Targaryen of recent past.

"You can face whoever comes off that ship," Jon said, "You're not trying to conquer anyone. Just sharing the land like the gods intended. If anyone had any ill feelings towards you now, they'll have to forget them. We're not here to kneel or politick anymore. We share what we have with travelers and help people to live, nothing more than that."

Dany smiled slightly at Jon's inclusion of free folk culture. She found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with everything he said. It was something she would defend with conviction, and the thought comforted her. For once, people were coming into Dany's home instead of the other way around. For once, she was not a feared outsider, but a loved neighbor with her people.

"Thanks," she said to Jon, "And I really am sorry for being so awful to you."

"Aye, well, it's in the past. Forgiven," he told her, leaning down and kissing her hair, "Finish your stew and we'll get to sleep."

Dany did as she was told. The stew was lukewarm by the time she began eating it, but it was welcome nonetheless. Though her mind still buzzed with a cloud of stress, she felt more peaceful than before, and tried to lose herself in the rhythmic circles Jon's hand was making on her back. She was not sure when she finally fell asleep, but knew that she had felt the circles continually rubbed on her back until she did.

This chapter was an interesting writing experience, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. Until next time.