A tiny hand was touching Dany's cheek repeatedly.

"Mamamama mamama," Rose babbled. Dany blinked her eyes open to see a happy baby face staring down at her. For a brief, sleepy second, Dany wondered how Rose had gotten out of her bed and onto Dany's stomach before she saw Jon sitting on the side of the bed.

"Good morning, Rosie," Dany cooed, smiling and reaching her hands out from the furs to gently tickle Rose's tummy. Rose giggled, grasping at Dany's hands as she was tickled.

As the giggles quieted down, Jon lifted Rose away so that Dany could sit up. "Good morning," Dany said to him, leaning in and stealing a small kiss from him over Rose's head.

"Good morning," Jon replied, "I think you're going to win."

"Win what?"

"There were a lot of 'mama's' in that speech," he told her.

He and Dany both laughed, with Rose copying her parents and joining in. Growing up so much already, Dany thought excitedly, though with a touch of sorrow. She was beginning to understand what the village women meant when they said they wished their children could be small once more.

"I wouldn't count yourself out just yet," she replied, "I've been hearing a lot of 'papa's' when she tries to avoid napping."

"I haven't heard that at all."

"That's because you mysteriously disappear whenever it's time for a nap," Dany said with a pointed look.

Slightly reddening in the face, Jon cleared his throat quickly changed the subject. "I've made some porridge. Figured it would be better if we went into the village earlier this morning," he said, handing Rose to Dany and getting up from the bed to go over to the fire.

Dany noted that he was already dressed. With a jolt of surprise, she saw what sat on his left hip

"You're wearing your sword," she remarked.

"You'd better eat while it's hot," Jon said as he came back over to the bed with a bowl of porridge, "Then get ready and we can go. I can finish up with Rose."

Dany looked at him. "Jon," she said sharply, "Why are you wearing your sword?"

"It doesn't - "

"Yes. Yes it does matter," she told him, "What happened to 'share what we have?'"

Unless they were traveling, Jon had not worn his sword since before Rose was born. Of course he still had a dagger on him ("You'd be a fucking fool not to have something to defend yourself with," Tormund had once said), Dany always did as well, hidden in her boot. But both of them kept the daggers habitually rather than with the intent of using them.

When he did not answer her, Dany pressed more. "Do you think something changes just because you can whip your sword out? We're not looking for a - "

"Dany!" Jon snapped through his teeth. Rose startled and looked up at her father. Noticing this, Jon softened considerably and, pressing the porridge into Dany's hands, added, "Just leave it, okay?"

Biting her lip, Dany refrained from saying anymore. She tried to eat the porridge, but the few bites she managed went down like splinters and tasted about the same. The happiness she had felt at waking up to Rose this morning and having her family together, and the lack of anxiety about the impending arrival of the ship seemed far away, replaced with a stomach of lead.

If Jon thought he needed to wear a sword to meet the people coming off that ship, what should she expect from the rest of the day?

The walk into Shadowedge was virtually silent save for the sound of ice under boots and Rose's occasional babbling from Dany's arms. Now very aware of her surroundings, Rose loved to point out anything that moved on their walks and generally accompanied it by happy shouting.

Usually, Dany entertained these moments by asking, "What's that, Rosie?" and reacting to whatever it was that was being pointed at. Today, however, she barely took her eyes off the path in front of her.

Jon was silent as well. He alternated between holding his body completely rigid while he walked and putting one hand on Longclaw. Dany kept glancing at him sideways, but each time she saw him turn his head even slightly she looked straight ahead again. Whether or not he was actually trying to catch her eye, Dany did not know, for she never gave enough time for him to notice her staring.

It was a relief ,and an added feeling of dread, for Shadowedge to come into view. At least Willa will want to talk, Dany thought.

Outside of her house, Willa was sitting at the table going about her morning herb sorting routine. She looked up as Jon and Dany approached.

"Why are you wearing your sword?" Willa asked immediately.

Grimacing, Jon nodded at her and turned around to stalk off, leaving Dany and Rose behind without a word.

"Why is he wearing his sword?" Willa asked again as Dany sat down.

"I have no idea. What's the news?" She got straight to the point, and Willa delivered. Dany guessed she had already been prepared for the question.

"Tormund and I got up early and went out to the cliffs. They're definitely coming here, should be close enough to come ashore soon. Couldn't see anyone particular on the ship itself. Nasty current out there - I think a storm's coming," she replied, "We got the news around to the rest of the villagers that there might be some Southerners coming in to town today. But I didn't make it out to be as hostile as Jon seems to think."

Dany let out a large sigh. "He'll do what he thinks is best," she said, ending the conversation, "Can I help?"

Wordlessly, Willa nodded and passed over a few strong-smelling pouches to Dany. One by one, Dany carefully emptied the pouches onto the table and began sorting through them as Willa had once taught her. Any leaves or bits that had become dry beyond use or moldy were removed to preserve the rest. After finishing sorting, Willa would take inventory of what she had left, what she could afford to trade if needed, and what she needed to trade or forage for.

It was methodic work, and while some could have called it dull, Dany found that it was easy to get lost in the rhythm of it. Dry, good, good, good, dry, good, she thought as she sifted through a pile of lavender which Willa got from inside her home. The scent, Dany remembered from her own experience, was good for relieving stress. It seemed to work even now, for she became absorbed enough that her anxieties about the approaching Stark ship settled in the back of her mind for a while. Rose sat on the table near Willa, as she usually did, playing with her favorite braided toy and babbling to herself.

"And very little nutmeg," Willa said bitterly as she finished up the last pouch.

"I was surprised you gave it up so easily," Dany remarked, sweeping away the discarded herbs from the table.

Will grunted. "It's fine, I suppose. Tormund was right, it's not like I was planning on spicing meat - don't tell him I said that," she added at the end, wincing as she realized what had been said aloud.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dany assured, smirking.

For a moment, they sat at the table, saying nothing else and watching Rose still engrossed in her play. In the absence of having something to do, Dany begun to feel an odd dichotomy swirling in her head. It felt like any normal day in the village: sorting herbs with Willa, Rose playing on the table, another day slightly warmer than the last. And yet so much more was expected to happen.

Jon was wearing Longclaw, a ship with Stark banners was floating off their coast, and the air throughout the village seemed to crackle with anxious anticipation. Word had obviously traveled quickly, and Dany kept catching glimpses of villagers stopping their work to look towards the east. None of the children were playing in their rowdy gang or pestering Dany for stories. Even Ghost looked tense underneath the table. What if this turns out to be absolutely nothing? Dany thought wildly. It was an absurd hope, but she wished it was true.

"Are we going to be greeting them by the cliffs or waiting for them to enter the village?" Willa asked, breaking Dany from her thoughts. The pouches of herbs and spices had been packed away inside their box.

"I thought you and Tormund would have decided that," Dany replied, confused.

"I thought you and Jon would have."

"They can come in here like anyone else," Tormund's voice sounded as he came up to the table, Jon at his side, "We're not looking to fight or treat them any different. What they do with that is there business."

At this, he gave Jon a pointed look. Dany quickly noticed that Longclaw was no longer on his hip, and he looked rather like someone who had just been scolded. She tried to catch his eye sympathetically, but Jon was determinedly looking at somewhere meant to be Rose, but not quite focused.

Just then, one of the younger village men, Birger, came running from the east. He only stopped once he reached Willa's table. Other villagers peered curiously at what was taking place, making no move to hide their eavesdropping.

Out of breath, Birger took a moment before speaking to Tormund. "You said," he panted, "To say - when they came. They landed - and - they're coming - now."

"Did you talk to them?" Willa asked.

Birger shook his head and swallowed, regaining more of his breath. "They didn't see - me. I ran before they could. But I heard them. I recognized the one that was talking from Winterfell. He said they needed to be careful when asking to speak to the clan chief because they didn't know which clan lived in the village."

"Who was he?" Jon pressed sharply.

"The little man," Birger answered, "The little man that came with Dany to Winterfell."

If you're in the US heatwave this weekend, stay cool and think of Saphira and the Mammoth's Head! Until next time.