The swamps of the Neck behind them as they entered the Riverlands, it was the furthest south Jon had ever traveled- at least in Westeros. The air was fresh, the grass lush and the trees dense.

It was a challenge to keep his eyes off Dany. She stood out like a bright flower in a wasteland. He would readily admit she had impressed him with how well she had adapted to this rough way of life on the road, having not so much as complained.

He could scarcely have imagined a woman like her, let alone being with a woman like her. She was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever laid eyes on but she was so much more than that. He saw how the men looked at her, knew they envied him, but they didn't even know the half of it.

She was as lethal as she was lovely, a though that thrilled him. Brave like his little sister but as soft as a maiden in a story. Her presence alone turned him into a starry-eyed fool.

He felt for her most days, knowing he wasn't much of a talker, not like she was. Being a foreign woman, the men didn't speak to her much either and he saw her growing more bored by the day.

That afternoon, they stopped for a break, and he watched out of his peripheral as she approached a man about their age. Whenever they stopped, this young man was always pulling out a quill and parchment, his fingers stained in black ink.

"Are you a poet?" he heard her ask.

Jon smiled inwardly watching the man startle, as he dropped his parchment, and stuttered out a response. "No. Well, I guess, sort of. I'm writing to someone back home."

The young man flushed bright red as she helped him pick up his parchment, taking a seat beside him.

"You have a girl back home? In White Harbor?"

He nodded, looking bewildered that she would speak to him.

"It must be hard to be separated from her."

"Aye, " he replied, fidgeting. "That's why I'm writing. It helps, and then I might have something to give her once I return."

He looked dumbstruck when she smiled at him brightly. Jon knew the feeling. "May I read some?" she asked.

A powerful surge of jealousy charged through his body. This young man wasn't a threat, not really, but Dany was admiring something he did that Jon couldn't offer. He certainly wasn't a bleedin poet.

Pretending to busy himself with the dragons, he watched them.

"This is lovely, " he heard her say. "What's your name?"

"Daeron."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Daeron."

As they talked further, Jon saw her face light up. He watched her touch his arm and laugh at something he said.

Jon was no longer amused, and his foul mood continued throughout the day.

When they stopped for the evening, they found a private area to let the dragons play. This was normally his favorite part of the day but he couldn't shake his jealous thoughts, irrational though they were.

"Daeron seems like a kind man. I can't imagine being separated from you for so long, " she said.

Jon huffed. "Seems a strange sort, writing all the time."

Dany snorted. "Are you jealous, Jon Snow?"

He bristled at the accusation, however accurate it was. "Why would I be jealous of a bleedin poet?"

Dany laughed outright, angering him further as he shook his head and turned away. He couldn't bring himself to look at her even as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Did I run from the Dothraki horde to be with a bleedin poet?"

No.

"Did I cross the Narrow Sea and set out on this grueling journey for anyone but you?"

No.

She stood on her toes to whisper into his ear. "Who's cock will my lips be wrapped around tonight?"

Mine, he thought as blood rushed to his groin.

"I'm sorry, Dany. I'm being foolish."

"Yes, you are. There is no one for me in this world but you."


It was raining the morning they approached The Crossing and Jon beheld the twin castles he'd heard about all his life. The rain did nothing to help alleviate his grave mood. He'd never heard a kind word said about Walder Frey and he hoped he'd ignore him, lowly bastard that he was, and just let them cross.

As they stood before the unfriendly castle gate, they waited for their request to be brought before Lord Frey.

"Jon, I don't like this, " Dany whispered, standing at his side, her hood up. "This doesn't feel right."

"I know. Lord Frey is not known for his charm, but the Green Fork is too flooded to try to ford and I'd rather not take the long way around. He won't pay us any mind. That's one advantage of being a bastard."

An older man in dark clothes and the leather coif Freys were known for, came to greet them with a sour face. "My Lord father requests an audience with Jon Snow."

Nodding Jon forced a smile. "Of course."

Dany squeezed his hand and whispered, "I should stay back."

"Ghost will stay with you."

Jon's heart sank as the man spoke again, "Lord Frey requests to meet your companion as well."


Walking through the grey and drafty halls, Jon thought of how much warmer Winterfell felt even being that much further north. He could see Dany's eyebrows were knitted together as she held his arm tightly. "Ghost won't let anyone near them while we're gone, " he tried to assure her.

Dany shook her head and whispered back, "I've heard Lord Frey is very old. He's probably met my mother. I've been told I resemble her a great deal."

They were led into the great hall before the head table and this room felt no kinder. Taking in the sight of Walder Frey, he tried not to gape. He'd never seen such a weathered-looking gray man, and there was a young girl standing beside him with a forlorn look on her face.

He had heard Lord Frey was partial to young women but to see the age difference in person was striking.

"So, " the old man started, "You're honorable Ned Stark's bastard. The late, honorable Ned Stark."

Ignoring the slights was becoming easier for him and he simply nodded politely, "My Lord."

Walder Frey wore a sneer. "I heard your father sent you to the Wall to rot with the robbers, rapers and other baseborn boys. Yet here you are."

Jon felt his ire rising. "Aye, My Lord. I left before I took my vows and now I ride to join my brother, King Robb."

The old man snickered. "Half brother. I've also heard your brother intends to name you Stark. Call you his heir."

"It has been quite some time since I've spoken to my brother, My Lord, and I am not a Stark."

Lord Frey leaned closer. "I'd never have to ask for one of my bastards to be legitimized with twenty-two trueborn sons. My baseborn children could never dream of climbing so high as you."

Before Jon could answer, Lord Frey turned to Dany and demanded gruffly, "Who is this?"

Jon fought an urge to shield her from his gaze. "This is Doreah of Lys."

Lord Frey never took his eyes off Dany. "Lower your hood girl, you're in my hall now."

Dany did as he commanded and Walder leaned back, eyeing her with a queer smile. "It's been many a year since I've seen hair like that. What are you doing here so far from the Lysene pleasure houses? You a gift for the King in the North?"

Jon felt his face flush as he clenched his hands at his sides. "Doreah is my wife, My Lord."

Lord Frey's eyes went wide as he barked in laughter. "Your wife? My, a wanton bastard indeed. Hear you're going to be named Stark and you're off to Lys plucking a Paramore from a pillow house like some Targaryen King? The war's not won yet, boy."

Dany spoke up, smiling sweetly and breaking the tension. "We met quite by accident, My Lord. A love match."

He laughed, a grating sound like creaking floorboards. "Heh, a love match. Only a bastard can concern himself with a love match. The rest of us have to think of what's best for the family. Like your brother, King Robb. He's betrothed to one of my daughters. Any of his choosing."

Working harder to force a smile, Jon followed Dany's example. "He's a lucky man, My Lord."

"Lucky, heh. He's in a better position to win this war, that's what he is. If this love match doesn't work out, I've plenty more daughters for you to choose from. Once you're legitimized that is. Now be on your way. You still have a war to win."

Just as they had turned to leave, the old man croaked out a word of caution. "Be mindful as you travel the Riverlands of the Mountain and his men. He's a vicious man. I pity anyone caught by him alive."

"The Mountain?" Dany asked.

"Oh, yes. Tywin Lannister's mad dog. He's been torturing and murdering the small folk. Men, women and children alike. You don't want to cross paths with him".


The rain had stopped and a pale sun was peeking through the clouds as they stood on the other side of the Green Fork, having crossed safely. There was an uneasy silence between them.

"The Mountain, " Dany said with a biting tone. "Do you know what he did to your infant brother and sister?"

"Aye, " he replied, feeling nausea bubble in his stomach.

"He slaughtered them. In front of their mother... before he raped her and used his sword to cut her nearly in two."

"We'll stop him, " he tried to comfort her. "By my brother's side, we will bring them all down."

She didn't respond but continued to look out at the river with her arms wrapped around her middle.

Jon cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I let him speak to you that way."

"It's alright, " she softened. "There's nothing you could have done that wouldn't have made things worse. I'm just glad to be away from him. I have a very bad feeling about that man."

He brushed her arm. "Well, we shouldn't have to deal with him again."

"Unless our love match doesn't work out and I attend your wedding to one of his daughters, " she taunted, pushing him away playfully.

"I don't think so, " he replied flatly, with a shake of his head.

"I thought you told Lord Frey that your brother was a lucky man?"

He almost laughed as she crossed her arms again, and turned away.

"Are you angry with me? Or are you trying to push me off on a Frey girl? Going to try for one of his twenty-two true-born sons, are you?"

She was laughing when she turned back to him, closing the distance between them. "If you tried to leave me for a Frey girl, do you know what I'd do?"

"Burn me alive?"

Taking little handfuls of his leather gambison, she looked up at him with a smile. "No, not a quick death for you. I'd steal you away and lock you inside a tower. Keep you guarded day and night, to use at my leisure"

Pulling her flush against his body, he studied her lips. "That sounds like one of my most wicked daydreams."

Suddenly, Dany pushed away from him, putting a hand against her forehead. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Just felt dizzy for a moment."

"Come on, " he said with concern offering his arm. "Let's get to the horses."


As the day wore on, Dany developed a headache that grew gradually stronger as they rode. She had insisted she could keep riding, and Jon took over her horse's lead rope, guiding her behind him.

Nauseous and almost feverish, they broke camp early to let her rest. Unable to eat their meager dinner, she laid out on her bedroll with the sun still in the sky and fell into a fitful sleep.

She knew she was dreaming when she found herself back in the hall of Walder Frey. It was evening and the hall was lit with candles, and music was playing. The room was full of people she didn't recognize but there were numerous men wearing the ridiculous hats House Frey seemed partial to.

A haunting melody filled the air as the doors of the great hall slammed shut. She was startled by screams echoing against the walls but everywhere she looked she saw people laughing and raising their cups.

In the middle of the room, she saw a crowd forming, and she pushed her way through. There in the middle of the floor was a young woman, lying on her back,

clutching her belly, swollen with child.

She heard Walder Frey's hateful snicker and she turned around to see him raise his cup in a toast.

"To the young wolf, heh! Forever young!"

She woke up with a start, his laughter still ringing in her ears. It was full dark, nowhere near morning as she shook Jon awake.

He sat up like a bolt. "What is it, Dany? Are you ok?"

"Jon, we can never go back to that horrible castle."

"You're not making sense, Dany."

"I had a dream about Walder Frey. I don't know what it means, but I know he means harm to the Starks."

"Alright, " he said rubbing her back. "We'll talk to my brother once we reach him."


It had been a few days since they had left the Crossing, and they found the terrain of the Riverlands far more pleasant than the swamps of the neck. Now they hunted rabbits and squirrels for their meals and he felt a twinge of guilt when he watched Dany bite into a spit-roasted squirrel for the first time. She wouldn't complain, he knew. She was determined to make the most of this like it was some grand adventure in a story and he admired her for it.

One afternoon, they stopped for a break at midday, he approached her while she was bent over, her head in a dragon cage. He grinned watching her backside wiggle, wishing they had time to take a tumble in the trees.

"Jon!, " she called excitedly. Coming to her side, she planted a chaste kiss on his lips before urging him to look inside the cage.

"Watch!"

He peeked inside, his cheek close to hers and


he spied Dreamfyre looking at a piece of raw meat.

"Dracarys, " she stated firmly.

At her command, the little dragon breathed out a little ball of fire, cooking his meat before devouring it quickly.

Jon could hardly believe it and laughed in delight before kissing her. "You're a clever thing, aren't you?"

He continued to smile at her excitement but another part of him felt a sense of foreboding. Suddenly, their little dragons weren't as cute as they once were.


The weather had been kind to them as they traveled for the past week. Used to riding, Dany wasn't near as sore by the end of the day, and she'd even gotten to know some of the men.

Children put away for the night, she rested her head against Jon's shoulder as they sat around the fire sharing spit-roasted rabbits.

"We'll reach Riverrun soon, " she addressed the group. "Won't it be lovely not to have to sleep on the ground anymore?"

Several of the men laughed. "Aye, I'm sure the officers are preparing out feather beds now."

"Oh, you know what I mean." She replied with a roll of her eyes.

"It would be nice to eat something other than squirrels and rabbits, "Daeron remarked.

Turning to Jon, she whispered, "What are you looking forward to most?"

The smile he gave her made it hard not to kiss his lips, so she leaned her head back against his shoulder, enjoying his warmth.

A peculiar whine from Ghost caught her attention as she watched the great beast stand to his full height. She felt Jon stiffen within her embrace as his eyes surveyed the treeline ahead of them. Captain Rivers held a finger to his lips and looked around at the gathered men who all fell silent.

Jon whispered to her so softly she had to strain to hear. "See that fallen tree?" he gestured to a downed oak off to the side. "When I say, you run and get behind it."

Her heart was hammering in her chest and yet there was no threat to be seen. She scanned the forest fretfully, seeing nothing but trees and darkness. The leaves on the reaching branches rustled sinisterly in the wind.

A branch cracked in the dark and then there was a flurry of movement as Jon, and the men around her rose to their feet, drawing their weapons.

"Go!, " Jon told her, but she only sat stunned until he yelled again, startling her out of her trance.

Her boots kicked up dead leaves as she bolted in the dark, seeking sanctuary behind the rotting trunk, the sent of dirt and weeds invading her senses.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard the crashing of steel and shouting. Trembling, she peeked over the trunk to see a battle now raging at the campsite.

The darkness and chaos impeded her view, but she thought she could make out ten or so assailants.

We outnumber them two to one.

She wanted this fact to comfort her but her heart palpitated with fear as she watched Jon standoff against an attacker in a red gambison.

Half bathed in the glow of the firelight and half covered in shadow, she watched him sidestep strikes gracefully. She saw the flames reflect off the steel of Jon's blade and she gasped, hands drawing to her mouth, as their swords clashed. She was granted a moment of relief when she saw Jon disarm the man and knock him hard to the ground.

Her lover safe for now, she turned her attention to her other companions as they too were overtaking the assailants. A horrible scream demanded her attention, and she looked in time to see blood spurt from a man's throat under Ghost's powerful jaws.

She released a breath as the battle seemed all but won, Jon and her friends safe. Some men had begun to clean the blood off their weapons as she stood, preparing to rejoin them. More shouts and shadows emerging from the trees had her stifling a cry as she ducked again behind the trunk.

She felt paralyzed as she watched on helplessly as the largest man she had ever seen emerged with the fresh wave of men.

The Mountain. The monster who murdered Rhaenys and Aegon.

He walked into the fray with a cruel smile on his face, welcoming the violence before him.

"Clegane!, " she heard someone shout and at that moment, she watched him run a man through easily with his greatsword.

Eyes finding Jon instinctively, she saw he was defending against another attacker and that their party was overwhelmed.

We will not win this fight.

Letting go of fear, she crouched down and dashed to her dragons, cages settled a few feet outside of camp. Undetected, she found them screeching desperately as she approached. Her hands trembled as she took them out one by one, urging them to settle over her upper body.

She looked up to see Jon thrusting his sword upward through a man's torso. His eyes dark and ruthless, so unlike the man she knew that a shiver ran up her spine.

The Mountain was moving closer to him, having just smashed the heads of two men into one another. She thought she could smell blood now. They needed to fall back. They needed a horse.

She sprinted away from the conflict until she reached their horses tied up for the night. They moved restlessly, nickering and quivering with the melee raging so near them.

Finding the dapple gray, she whispered to her softly. "You must be swift tonight, girl."

The dragon's talons pricked her skin even through her clothing as they clung to her tightly as she climbed her mount. She instantly wished she had time to put on the saddle, finding it already more difficult to stay balanced.

Coaxing the palfrey closer to the battle, she looked on in horror to see so few of their men left standing. Daeron and two others were facing off against the Mountain, who appeared to be taking his time, easily swiping away strikes. Jon was dodging another assault when Ghost leaped in between them and tore out the throat of his attacker.

Dany's heart lept into her throat as she saw Jon jump in beside their friends facing the Mountain. In an instant, she watched her friend Daeron lose his footing before the Mountain plunged his greatsword through his gut forcefully.

Screaming in anguish for her fallen friend, she was horror-struck as the great beast of a man turned around and set his sights on her. His men took up arms against Jon and the others as he leisurely approached her.

Fear left her paralyzed. This was the man who's violence had been the subject of her nightmares since she was very small.

The dapple gray reared and Dany fought to keep her seat. In the distance, she thought she heard Jon call her name, and the world slowed down around her.

There's no escape.

His eyes that held hers were dark and empty; predatory, like a lion stalking a stag. He reached out a meaty hand toward her and all she could do was continue to stare into those dead eyes.

A sudden battle cry brought the world rushing back into motion and the Mountain dropped to his knees before her, face twisted in pain and rage. Then clarity took the place of fear and a calm settled over her body. She knew what she had to do.

Looking back into the monster's eyes, she spoke calmly.

"Dracarys."

Clouds of flame shot past her face, warming her cheeks as they took to the hair, skin, and armor of her attacker. His terrible screams of agony reminded her of the screams at the manse, but they were far more satisfying. The smell of his burning hair and flesh didn't sicken her the way it had before.

I am the blood of the dragon.

She was relieved when Jon's warm body took up space behind her, pulling the reins from her hands, and she melted into him. He kicked the horse forcefully and they were tearing off through the trees.