Willa was missing.
When Dany walked into her friend's house four days later with Rose and Ghost, she found only empty bed with furs awry, two overturned baskets of plants, a knife pointed down into the floor, and an extremely amused Sansa, who had been staying in Willa's home since the incident with Moregg. Although Shadowedge had ridden itself of his ilk, Sansa felt a lot safer not staying on her own any longer. And, like most other people in the village, her trust in Willa was implicit beyond anyone else.
"You...don't look well," Sansa observed easily, immediately offering her arms to take Rose. The radical change in the two women's relationship was immediately evident. Since their discussion on Willa's floor, Sansa had become much less withdrawn. She seemed to have accepted Dany's refusal to help them with the slaver problem, and did not say anything more about it, though Dany could tell that her mind was still working on the issue.
Instead, she acted much like Jon had when they walked across Westeros, asking Dany about Essos and her travels there, and trading amusing stories about Jon during childhood. So far, Dany's favorite was when Jon tried swordplay against a barrel that he did not expect to be full of wine and was soaked when he stabbed too roughly. She was waiting for the proper time to tell him that she could just see his pretty burgundy undertones in the sunlight.
"Nor do I feel particularly well," Dany replied tiredly, sitting down on her friend's rumpled bed, "Where's Willa?"
"She was dragged off this morning," Sansa said all too happily, setting Rose on her usual floor mat and tugging the knife out of the floor, "She put up quite a fight, but in the end she was taken. I've just been straightening up. It looked a lot worse before."
Shaking her head to make sure her ears weren't malfunctioning like the rest of her body, Dany looked at Sansa absolutely bewildered, "Dragged off? What do you mean dragged off?"
"Dany," Sansa said, motioning for her to calm down, "Willa's okay. It was just Tormund. He said they would be back later."
"Ah. So when you said dragged off you meant…"
"Yes," Sansa said blushingly, "That kind of dragged off. It was...an interesting experience."
She turned away quickly to fix the toppled plants, making sure to remove any broken ends that had experienced the unexpected pruning job and piling them onto Willa's table to be sorted out later. For a little while, Dany found herself lost in thought. She had not told Willa about what she had seen the day Tormund left to guide the party from Winterfell back past the Wall (nor even Jon), instead letting her friend keep the ideas of romance to herself if she wanted. In turn, Willa had not mentioned it aside from Dany catching her grinning whenever she thought nobody was looking.
Whatever had happened after Dany and Rose had backed out of the house must have been intense for Tormund to have come back and immediately taken her from her home in true free folk tradition. Wait, Dany thought, if Tormund is back, then -
"They've returned with your garrons?" Dany asked.
"They should be here by nightfall," Sansa said, "Tormund came on ahead and sent a few of the villagers to meet my men on the last leg of the journey."
"So then it's back to the North?"
Sansa shrugged. "Tomorrow morning. What's left of it I suppose," she replied. At the sight of Dany's face, she added, "And I'll work with it as best I can. You were right, what you said, I don't want to be a leader through fear. Even if you had said yes, thinking that somehow coming up here to ask you to solve our problems the way you did in Slavers' Bay was wrong. You're not that person anymore and...admittedly, I'm glad that you aren't. I'm glad to not be either."
Smirking, Dany nodded, "So am I."
The few Northmen and a dozen garrons arrived with their Shadowedge escort at twilight. Having gained an eye for horses during her time with the Dothraki and having not seen one since they passed under the Wall, Dany was very eager to inspect them. As Sansa and Tyrion spoke to those who had come, she tugged Jon (holding Rose) around to look at the steeds.
Most were dark in coat, so unlike the flashy herds of all colors across the Dothraki Sea or the sleek, well-bred animals of nobility. Dany did spot a bright chestnut among the ranks, sticking out like a sun in the gloaming. Her favorite horse, however, was a huge liver-colored stallion with tall stockings on each leg. He would have looked extremely fierce with his intense amber gaze, save for the wide, white stripe that ran down his face, giving him a very boyish appearance for a horse.
When he walked, he looked as though he was on unsturdy legs, and Dany expected that one would have to stand still to look imposing.
"What kind of garron is he?" she remarked to Jon when she first saw him amongst the other horses, "I've never seen one so big. Or clumsy."
"The men said they took the lot of horses offered from Lord Norrey, he's one of the mountain clan chiefs. I think he's just overlarge for a mountain horse. But he seems to have held up well," Jon replied, eyeing the liver stallion.
They went to the northern mountains for these horses? Is the Southern North as empty as the true north? She had heard Jon speak of the mountain clans in the North. They lived past Last Hearth, and luckily took up the call against the Army of the Dead before they were destroyed like House Umber. But it was a far way to go for horses.
"Walks like a sailor who's never stepped on land," she observed a bit disdainfully.
"Aye, but you didn't see him being ridden when they came in," Jon countered, admiration in his voice, "Graceful beast with a rider on him."
Dany looked at Jon, raising an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said devilishly, pulling his hand along to approach the horse. As Jon noticed what she was hinting at, he stopped.
"No, Dany," he cautioned.
"Why not?" came the innocent reply.
She could tell Jon was doing some very quick thinking to defend his words. "Because," he started, grey eyes darting back and forth, "Because you're - you're pregnant! You've been sick all week. And you don't know the horse. And you haven't got a saddle."
Smiling, she turned back and stood on her toes to whisper in Jon's ear, lips caressing lightly over the lobe, "It's all right, mahrazhkem, I can do it bareback too." Leaving Jon stuttering, she walked slowly to the horse.
The liver stallion looked up as Dany came over, hand tentatively extended towards him with the palm facing up. His white nostrils flared wide as he tilted his muzzle toward her hand and she felt the hot air blow onto her hand in greeting. A brave horse indeed, he pressed his velvety nose into Dany's hand for a moment and did not move as she approached his side, but watched curiously.
Up close, he was very tall, even taller than Drogo's favorite red stallion as Dany remembered. This is either going to go well or be an extreme embarrassment, she thought, conscious that not only Jon was watching her. The stallion seemed to guess her thoughts, for he lowered his head and Dany was able to take a fist of mane in her left hand. She stretched to reach his withers, so high off the ground, and ignored the warning "Dany" she heard uttered from behind.
"At, akat, sen," she grunted the last number as she heaved herself up from the ground, arms very angrily protesting at the less than graceful mount onto the great horse who began moving before she could sit up properly. Nevertheless, she made it atop him and he was indeed very tall.
Although it had been a long time since she had truly ridden a horse, Dany remembered it like she had been on the rolling plains in the morning. Squeezing with her calves, she urged the stallion forward into a very graceful walk. Gone was the clumsy horse with too-long legs that had minds of their own, his gait was smooth and comfortable, gliding over the snowy field with ease. She could see why Jon admired him so.
This can't be just a garron, Dany thought. She had always imagined the surefooted horses as stout and scruffy, like the others in this herd. But this stallion was a surefooted as the rest, perhaps even more so with a rider on him. Any khal would have considered him a terrific prize if he was this fluid in his other gaits. Let's find out, Dany thought gleefully, certain that it showed on her face as she urged the horse into a steady trot.
It felt as though she was gently floating over the ground. The horse's light and airy trot was easy to sit to and almost relaxing. Squeezing him once more, Dany pushed him into a lofty canter and found herself grinning even more broadly as they circled around the herd. Once more she circled before sitting back to slow the horse into a walk and then a halt. The stallion, so engaged before, eased into his relaxed appearance that Dany had first seen as she leaned down to firmly pat his neck.
She dismounted, sliding slowly off his tall back and being sure to bend her legs at the landing just as Irri had taught her ("Good rule for always, but special for when you're with child, khaleesi. It is known."). With one more pat, she turned away to find a small group of people watching her including Jon and Rose, Sansa, and, surprisingly, a mildly disheveled Willa returned from her kidnapping.
"Are you done or do I have to hold my breath longer?" Jon asked, looking a mixture of anxious and sly enjoyment.
"Stop it," Willa admonished, shoving him playfully, "I didn't know you could ride like that, Dany."
Dany shrugged bashfully. "I've been around horses before," she said, "You were right, Jon. I feel a little bad for saying he walked with sea legs." She glanced back at the stallion who had rejoined the herd and was nosing in the snow for a few frozen mouthfuls. His ears pricked when he spotted her and he paused momentarily, nostrils flaring again, before resuming his quest.
"Keep him, then," Sansa said suddenly.
Everyone turned to stare at her, Dany making no effort to close her mouth which had fallen open. Sansa nodded in confirmation, gesturing to the horse, "There are only seven of us with twelve horses. I insist you keep him. House Norrey can get on with one less horse."
Still gaping in shock and wide-eyed, Dany turned to Jon who returned the stare with a very "if you must" look hiding the still-sly enjoyment look he had as well. She looked back at Sansa and, slowly, nodded, her gape turning to a grin.
Sansa smiled, taking Dany's hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she said, "I think he'll be quite happy here."
"Although," Jon said, "I think he may need a bigger barn. His head may go through the roof of our current one."
This chapter title literally means "gift horse" and, although Dany doesn't really broach the subject, giving the gift of a horse to someone is an extreme act of gratitude for her because of her time with the Dothraki. The horse is also based off of my soulmate horse from real life who is very enormous and really does walk like a drunk sailor when he's not under saddle.