Might I suggest listening to "Stay A Thousand Years" by Ramin Djawadi for this chapter?

Soft evening wind breathed through the needles and leaves of the lean Haunted Forest trees that curved in embrace of the ground, protecting its inhabitants from the harsh of the north. Cold, but welcome, the wind played at the loose strands of Dany's silver hair as she waited on the edge of a small forest clearing not far north of her home clearing.

The villagers of Shadowedge called it The Gods' Clearing, for in the center stood a single weirwood heart tree, larger than any other most had ever seen in the forest. Stretching tall above the pines, ash, and ironwood that surrounded its home, the tree, Dany imagined, would be a sight to behold from up high as a bird or on the back of a dragon. Many of the red leaves, a dark vermillion that Dany loved, turned down as if they were pointing to the very center of the bone-white trunk that stood watch over its clearing with a carved face thousands of years old, still standing the test of time and weather. It seemed almost apathetic, as if it did not care about the red tears it shed every day, nor the people who had come to visit it. Instead, it simply watched the years, eras, and eons go by, an observer of all that happened beneath its boughs and in its clearing.

As Dany looked on from the shadows, the clouds overhead of The God's Clearing, which had been looking low and sullen all day, began to part, turning silver as the moon and stars peeked through from the other side. The snowy, untouched land became bathed in pale moonlight and the heart tree looked as if it were glowing. Faintly, light shone through and around the brilliant leaves, outlining their five-pointed shape. Above, in the small patch of sky surrounded by trees, ribbons of color danced across the stars in whispering hues of blue against the ink of night.

Patiently, Dany watched, through the wafts of breath unfurling in front of her, for a sign of movement beckoning her to come forth.

I wonder if I'm supposed to feel any different, Dany thought as she surveyed herself in the bit of light that just reached into the shadowed wood. She wasn't wearing anything different from any other day, since all of her clothes were the same sheepskin and animal fur that free folk used. Although, she had made sure they were pristinely clean. She still wrung her hands from anxiousness - or was it anticipation? And she still knew that tomorrow she would wake up, fetch Rose from Willa's house, and go about her normal life in Shadowedge just as she had the day before: Jon at her side, Rose on her hip, new baby growing within her. Yet this night was different. Different from all other nights. A night witnessed by the gods that would end with the promise of forever.

As she twirled her hair around a finger, Dany knew she did feel different, whether or not she was supposed to.

"You do know that you're already married, don't you?" Willa had asked earlier as her capable hands worked through Dany's long, wavy hair. The healer's collection of beads and shells sat next to her, and every now and then she paused to carefully select one to add to her braided art. It was not often that Willa was given the opportunity to create something of Dany's hair. The sensation was soothing. Dany felt warmly reminded of mornings in Mereen with Missandei, when they braided each others' hair before beginning the day, trading stories of their lives and dreams.

"Southerners have ceremonies," Dany replied, smiling at the thought, "Like how the free folk present children to the old gods for their second nameday.

Willa sniffed. "Sounds like a lot to do for not much reason," she said, "Your man steals you. You put up a fight. He keeps you. You're married. None of this ceremony Southern stuff."

"I guess this is just one of those Southern things I'd like to keep."

She understood where Willa was coming from: to the free folk it did sound silly to get married when they thought you were already married. And she was right, in a way. According to their idea of marriage, Jon taking her from Dragonstone did count (even though she didn't put up a fight). But this night was something more. As much as she considered herself part of the free folk, there were some traditions from Dany's past that she felt no need to neglect. And having the chance to marry Jon, to truly marry him in the witness of the gods, was one of them.

It would be in the eyes of all of the gods, if they were looking. Jon had suggested getting married in front of the heart tree like they do in the godswoods in the North. It wasn't going to be a formal ceremony of any faith, but one they made their own: beneath the open sky in The Gods' Clearing with nobody but the two of them, the stars, and the heart tree to witness.

Glancing up, Dany smiled at the stars. Quickly, she spotted the Ice Dragon amongst them. It made her think of Saphira and Drogon. Where had the dragons gone now that two of their eggs had hatched? The blue eye of the constellation seemed to twinkle knowingly, and Dany wondered if its soul could have answered her question. It was quite bright, and she imagined the soul to have been an incredibly strong person in life, also calm and gentle.

Moonmaid chased the Ice Dragon towards the sea. Inside her tonight was the red wanderer - Dany smirked, thinking of Willa and Tormund - they couldn't have chosen a better night to be married. Even the free folk customs approve, she thought, bemused.

In the silence of the forest, she heard the snow shift as someone approached. Momentarily, Dany stiffened, but she recognized Jon's figure immediately. As he approached the heart tree, the moonlight came over him, giving him a soft outline in the night. His broad shoulders stretched out and she could tell he was standing extremely straight. Is he as nervous as I am? The nerves had come as a surprise - after all, it wasn't as if she had never seen him before. But it was different this time, wasn't it?

At first, she didn't move. Her mind had stopped her feet from taking any steps into the clearing, keeping her in the shadows, perhaps to ensure that she would never forget this moment as she stared at her future before her.

A future she had freely chosen.

Dany watched as Jon bowed his head to the heart tree in silent prayer to the old gods. She waited, giving him his private moment until he had raised his head up again, before walking into the clearing. Out of the shadows she came, moonlight cascading over her to turn her clothes a silvery-white. Her hair looked to be made of braided starlight. As Jon turned to see where her light footsteps came from, she caught his expression. Butterflies took hold inside of her, and Dany thought she may have floated with their wings across the snow to join the Northman standing in the center. Her Northman.

They did not speak once she reached his side. Suddenly, she felt very shy, and instead of speaking, she allowed her gaze to be drawn to the apathetic face watching them both. Were its tears from sorrow or joy?

A combination, Dany answered silently, as all lives are.

Gently, a large, calloused hand interlaced its fingers with hers. Its thumb drew slowly over her skin, almost reassuring, as if Dany's nerves were written across her face. Looking up, her violet eyes locked with the gray gaze from Jon, brilliantly intense and yet entirely soft. A small smile came across his face, brightening him more than the moonlight or even the sun ever could.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if anything louder could disturb the still of night.

Voice fanned away by the fluttering butterflies still inside her, Dany nodded, returning his smile with a light one of her own.

Deftly, Jon produced a long strip of white cloth from his person. He raised up their joined hands and wound the cloth around the pair, bonding them as the heart tree looked on in witness through its red tears. Together, they began the recitation they had chosen, Dany's voice finally finding its way.

"In the eyes of the gods, and in the witness of the stars, I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of days."

She felt her eyes pricking as Jon's hand held hers tighter. They let the words sink into the night, carried off with the wind still gently rustling through the clearing, as they continued to hold each other's gazes.

Hands still bound by the cloth, Jon brought Dany in close and cupped her face with his free hand. Delicately, he kissed her, and she responded in kind, feeling the caress of his thumb over her cheek damp with the tears that had begun to fall from the joy blossoming where the butterfly wings had beat moments ago.

"I love you," he said quietly to his wife, "Now and always."

"And I love you," she murmured to her husband, "Forever."