Chapter 13 – Daenerys
It was to weak sunlight and a biting, crispy chill that Daenerys rode north. She pretended not to mind, but she was beginning to worry about how she would fare as far north as Winterfell. She wanted to look like a strong and capable leader, and knew that running inside to shelter from the elements at every given opportunity wouldn't do much for her reputation as a queen further north. Daenerys glanced behind her, further along Drogon's back, at her companions. She hadn't thought it wise or fair to leave Tyrion, Varys or Missandei to ride all that way with the Dothraki. Jorah had been up for the challenge, but the others Dany decided to take with her on the dragon. Saying that, they didn't seem too keen to be so high up. She had thought Tyrion's head would explode with excitement when she first proposed the idea to him, and he seemed to be the only one of the three of them to be enjoying the experience. Missandei looked terrified every time Drogon steered sideways or Viserion or Rhaegal overtook too closely. Varys looked positively green.
A few moments more, and Daenerys spotted a small field containing a gathering of what looked like tents, a couple of miles inland from the coast. They were nearly there. The mere thought of reuniting with Jon and Arya both excited Daenerys, and made her nervous. Especially now…
"This is White Harbour, Your Grace," Tyrion shouted to her over the wind, as if Daenerys had not worked this out for herself already. She nodded in response in an over-exaggerated way so that he would see. She mentally asked Drogon to fly a few laps of the snow-dusted greenery first before descending to the ground, and used the time to clear her thoughts of the memories of the last few days.
She was now the official Queen of Westeros. Everything had gone to plan. She had arrived at Kings Landing on dragonback, naturally, and had dismounted in the Dragonpit. Her small entourage, meanwhile, had travelled by boat half a day earlier, in order to walk with her up to the Red Keep. The Unsullied were there to protect her, as well as the Dothraki. On arrival in the throne-room, Daenerys had wasted no time in naming Ser Jorah and Grey Worm as highest-ranking members of the Queensguard. All of the people in Kings Landing swiftly and relatively silently bent the knee to her, and Dany inwardly both marvelled and worried at Arya's fail-proof strategy, while wondering exactly what she had done to ensure their allegiance to Dany. Part of her felt unsatisfied at how easy the whole thing had been – not exactly the conquest Aegon and his sisters had planned, nor the battle plan she had laid out herself at Dragonstone, before Jon, or indeed Arya, had turned up.
Arya… back to the here and now.
Daenerys swooped around the grassy clearing, looking in awe around her as a dusty layer of bright white snow began to fall. Then, she gently nudged Drogon to a landing, to one side of the gathering where there was more space. Dany dignifiedly slid to the ground from Drogon's back via his wing, among hurried shouts of 'the Queen is here!' and 'someone get the King!'. Daenerys extended a hand to Missandei, who practically flung herself to the floor without a backward look at the red dragon, seeming very relieved that the experience was over. Tyrion was grinning broadly, having also dismounted independently, while Varys still looked ill as he shakily made his way down, aided by two men in Stark livery. Drogon gave a sweeping glance around the field, checking for threats and finding none, before jumping into the air to soar around with Rhaegal and Viserion overhead.
"You certainly know how to make an entrance," a quiet, serious voice came from behind. Daenerys turned.
"Arya!" she said, previously oblivious to her appearance and surprised to see her so quickly. Not many people dared to get close to any of the dragons. But, Daenerys realised, Arya was not exactly like many people.
The younger Stark girl regarded her carefully. "How are you?"
"Alright," Dany replied. She had a horrible feeling that Arya could read her mind, and she knew she should really say something more meaningful. "You planned out Kings Landing very well."
Arya shrugged. "It was nothing." She paused, before bowing her head very stiffly. "I expect Jon's on his way." Daenerys was aware that Arya, as well as her other companions were all watching her, so she was careful not to say anything, only nodding.
And then there he was. Jon Snow bowed his head respectfully, but did not kneel – not that Dany had really expected him to. She looked into his dark eyes, hoping for a glint of humour, or at the very least a little more intimate recognition, but saw none. He was being strictly professional.
"Your Grace," he greeted her, smiling – but still very formally. "I'm glad you found us." Daenerys nodded again, aware that she was now surrounded by northerners as well. She steeled herself and narrowed her eyes, but her body betrayed her and she shivered violently.
A hint of worry appeared on Jon's solemn, handsome face. "You must be tired after your long journey, Your Grace, not to mention cold…" He broke off and addressed all four of them. "I'll show you to your tents. We can speak later." Daenerys looked around at her companions and noticed they were all shivering too. Arya had disappeared. She looked back at Jon; she was grateful to be able to get out of the biting cold – and followed him with yet another mute inclination of her freezing head.
Tyrion, Varys and Missandei all had tents next to one another, with Jon's not too much further along. If the whispers she had heard on the way to her own, opposite Tyrion's and adjacent and as large as Jon's, they would only stay a couple of days here, as the King in the North was keen to move closer to the Kingsroad, and indeed Winterfell.
There was no source of heat in the tent and Daenerys violently shivered again. She wished she could go to the dragons: Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion always seemed to radiate warmth. She had never known such cold, it felt like she was dying…
Tyrion entered her tent, interrupting her thoughts.
"Well, that could have gone better, Your Grace," he said, reaching out as though to take hold of a wine jug, before remembering there was none.
Dany glared at him accusingly. "Meaning?"
"Your Grace," he said seriously. "Over the last few years, you have gone from a little girl scared of her own shadow, to Queen of Westeros in your own right, but just laying eyes on Jon Snow after being separated for little more than a week reduces you to a mute, doe-eyed wreck!" He moved closer. "You need to stay focused in the weeks to come, Your Grace. We have come to a cold, dreary and unfeeling place."
"And I need to remember who I am and what I am doing here, yes," Daenerys replied, feeling a little irritated at her Hand's intrusive meddling, although, deep down, she knew he was right.
"I know how you feel about Jon Snow –"
"– I don't feel anything for Jon Snow –"
"– All I'm saying –"
"Well don't." Dany turned away from him as she felt her cheeks begin to redden.
A few seconds later, Tyrion took another step forward.
"How are the dragons?" he asked softly, changing the subject. "Will they adapt to their new climate?"
"They will if I do," she replied, trying to look and sound indifferent, but now starting to worry.
"It is true that they are very close to you, and respond to change and environment similarly to the way you do," Tyrion mused thoughtfully. "Especially Drogon."
"Yes," Dany agreed, unsure where he was going with this.
"Do you not worry about the other two, though?" he asked.
Daenerys frowned, confused. "Why would I?"
"I once read somewhere that every dragon needs a rider," Tyrion told her. "To control their actions and ultimately make them safer, especially in dangerous situations," he paused and made eye contact, "such as battle. Aegon and his sisters both rode dragons…"
Daenerys rolled her eyes. "If you want Rhaegal or Viserion all to yourself, then –"
But Tyrion cut across her before she could continue, making her frown. He had been interrupting her quite a lot of late. "I didn't mean me, Your Grace. You know as well as I do that I am better strategist than fighter. And while I do have a small bond with both of them, I wouldn't dare to say it was strong enough to let me ride either of them."
Dany sighed, tired. "What are you trying to suggest?"
"I was thinking of Jon," Tyrion said softly. Daenerys spun around to look at him in shock, but said nothing. "You have seen the way the dragons react with Jon. While I agree that it is very strange that they do so – they do not really know him, and it is highly unlikely that Jon has any Targaryen blood in him – you cannot deny that we could use his and their bond to an advantage…" Daenerys stopped listening for a moment to remember the way Rhaegal had seemed so at ease with Jon Snow back at Dragonstone.
They do seem to like me, Jon's voice echoed inside her head. I can't see why.
"…what do you think?" Tyrion's question broke her out of her thoughts.
"I don't know," Dany's voice wavered. "It would be safer for Rhaegal to have a rider…" She considered it for another few seconds. "I would have to ask him about it, he always seemed fairly nervous around them. Plus, wouldn't it look a little strange if we both showed up at Winterfell on dragon-back? I will be distrusted and despised enough when I get there."
"That is true," Tyrion said, before going very quiet.
Daenerys looked at him shrewdly. "What's the matter?"
"Just thinking," he said, not meeting her gaze. "Remembering the time I went to the Wall. Remembering the last time I went to Winterfell. Remembering the last time I saw some of the people that live there." He smiled at her. "Have no fear, you will not be the only person who is distrusted and despised when we arrive at the seat of the Starks." He then shrugged out of his reminisce and took a step back. "Anyway, I had better go and talk to Varys." He bowed and began to leave. "Remember what I said about the dragons!" he called as the tent flap fell back down.
Daenerys turned around and eyed the tent flap in determination. It was time to go and talk to Jon.
There were not many people milling about outside. A few tents along, Gendry and Arya were talking, several blades in their hands. Daenerys remembered that the boy was a blacksmith, and assumed Arya had offered to test the newest weapons he had crafted. The young Stark met her eyes and gave a little acknowledging nod as she passed.
It was obviously impossible to knock on the tent flap, so Daenerys simply increased the volume of her movement to indicate her presence before gently entering.
Both Jon and Ser Davos had their backs to her as she walked in, and Davos' hand was on his king's shoulder as they spoke in hushed voices. At the sound of the dropping tent flap, Davos turned.
"Your Grace," he acknowledged politely, before turning back to Jon. He looked at him meaningfully and gave his shoulder a final pat; then he bowed his head and left behind Daenerys, who moved forward.
Jon gave her a light smile. "I assume everything went to plan in Kings Landing, Your Grace?" he prompted gently.
"Yes," she answered simply, before shivering, although heat was slowly creeping up her face.
Jon moved swiftly and drew up two rickety, wooden chairs from the side of the tent. There was a pile of thick blankets in one corner of the room and he picked up one and handed it to her.
"You must be freezing," he said, by way of justification, before sitting down and motioning for her to do the same. "I remember when I first got back up here it felt unusually chilly, but it must be horrible for you and your party having spent so long in Essos."
Daenerys nodded fervently as she draped the blanket around herself. "How can you even live here? It is so, so cold!"
"Winterfell will be better, Your Grace," Jon assured her. "It is built on a system of hot springs, and warm water flows through the castle." He thought for a minute. "Maybe when we get there, you can have Lady Stark's old chambers. She grew up in the Riverlands and never liked the cold – Robb always told me her rooms were the warmest."
"That is kind of you," Daenerys said, before changing the subject. "There's something I need to ask you about."
He regarded her seriously for a moment, his dark eyes boring into hers and making her heart beat a little faster. "Fire away."
"That's exactly what it comes to," Daenerys said. "Fire," she added, when she noticed Jon's serious expression turn to one of confusion. "Jon… I've been thinking about the dragons, particularly Rhaegal, and thinking that maybe he would be safer with a rider on his back when we go after the Night King." She looked up at him, almost pleading him to agree. "I want to ask you if you would be Rhaegal's rider. Because he likes you…" She trailed off under the intensity of Jon's brooding gaze. She gulped. "Of course, if you don't want to then I can't really force you, but I would implore you to at least try…"
"I think I would be better doing my fighting on the ground, Your Grace," Jon told her straightforwardly. "Saying that, though – I don't see any harm in trying. I want your dragons to be safe, both for your sake and for ours collectively. If the Night King gets one of them…" he trailed off and shook his head, looking pained. "I'll at least try with Rhaegal. Just for a few minutes, and here, in case anything happens."
Dany looked up at him, almost giddy with surprised delight. "Thank you!" she said excitedly. "I doubted that you would agree to it – thank you, thank you!"
Jon grinned at her, looking slightly amused. "You will join me, on Drogon – won't you?"
"Of course!" Daenerys replied. She had agreed with herself that she would have to.
Jon gave a nervous laugh. "Well, this will be a first – a Stark riding a dragon! You will make sure Rhaegal doesn't roast me alive, won't you?"
Dany laughed along with him. "Obviously – although I very much doubt he would anyway, after seeing the way he reacted to you back at Dragonstone." She was about to reiterate the fact that they must have had a special bond, but was distracted by Jon getting up. He took off his gloves and pulled on another thick cloak. He then turned back to Daenerys, with a look of perpetual fortitude.
"I'm ready," he said simply, before extending his hand to her. She took it and got up.
As they left, Daenerys added, "you will need to learn the basic commands in Valyrian, since that is what they understand best."
"Alright," Jon replied as they followed a muddy path towards the corner of the field, where the dragons had roamed to. He looked unsure again.
"Zaldrīzes!" Daenerys called, and the three dragons looked up at her expectantly. With her peripheral vision she noticed that a few people were watching the two of them curiously. Tyrion, Varys, Missandei, Ser Davos, Arya and Gendry all came running closer from different directions, although they all maintained a safe distance.
"What in the seven hells is he up to now?" she heard Ser Davos mutter to Arya and Gendry.
Daenerys clambered on Drogon's back as she had done a thousand times. Jon gently approached Rhaegal, extending a gloveless hand for the dragon to sniff. She tried not to laugh again as Rhaegal looked from Jon to his back and back again. Jon nodded nervously and gently climbed the green dragon's spikes and settled himself on his back. Drogon and Rhaegal had been standing close together when they had arrived, with the result that Daenerys and Jon were just inches away from each other, making it easy to talk.
"Make sure you're holding on tight," she told him. "I'll take off on Drogon first and fly low – that way, Rhaegal will do the same. When you're feeling more comfortable, we'll go a bit higher." Jon nodded back nervously.
"What's the command?" he asked.
Daenerys bent closer to Drogon. "Sōves!" Drogon moved away from Rhaegal and took off, and Dany mentally reminded him to fly low and wait for his brother.
"Sōves!" Jon echoed, before letting out a surprised shout as Rhaegal jumped into the air. Daenerys got Drogon to fly in circles, a few metres from the ground, and after a few seconds Rhaegal came up to fly next to him.
"Are you alright?" Daenerys shouted to Jon.
"Yes and no!" He yelled back.
A few laps later, Daenerys heard him utter another yell. She turned to look at him and nearly screamed herself. Somehow he had slipped off Rhaegal's back and was hanging on to one of his spikes with one hand.
"Land! Land!" she begged both dragons. Both of them lowered themselves by a few metres and were heading closer to the ground, but it was too late. Jon had lost his grip on Rhaegal and was falling fast. Daenerys looked down in desperation as his body hit the ground and she saw Ser Davos and Arya rush towards him.
The next few minutes were spent landing Drogon and Rhaegal safely. Rhaegal seemed very distressed, as though he knew what had happened to Jon and felt responsible, and it took Dany several minutes to calm him down. She then ran as fast as she could towards Jon's tent, only to rush straight into Missandei, who caught her before she could fall over. Tyrion also made his way over as fast as his stunted legs would let him.
"He's still alive, and no lasting harm is done," Tyrion reassured her. "He's just unconscious and bruised."
"It's all my fault, it's all my fault!" Daenerys cried, no longer caring about the people staring.
"It's also mine," Tyrion reminded her. "It was my idea."
"But I listened to you!" Daenerys said, trying to blink back tears of guilt and worry.
"Lord Snow will be fine," Missandei said, but Dany wasn't listening.
"I want to see him," she demanded.
"I think it would be a better idea for you to go and lie down and calm down, Your Grace," Tyrion said, firmly and gently. "Missandei, would you take our Queen back to her tent?"
"You need rest, Your Grace," Missandei took her arm and led Daenerys back to her tent, much to her chagrin.
"When he wakes, let me know immediately," she told Missandei, before dismissing her. She rocked backwards and forwards on her makeshift bed in silent agony, willing herself to be able to turn back time.
A/N: I am so, so sorry that it has taken me so long to update! Loads of things have been going on lately and I'm always so busy now but I will do my best to continue writing this whenever I can. Hopefully, this longer chapter will make up for the wait.
The next chapter will be in Jon's POV.
Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
Thank you so much for reading, and I again apologise for the wait. I hope you all had a great Christmas/New Year.
See you next time x
