Love is the Death of Duty
Chapter 8
Surrounded on all sides by the grey walls of Winterfell, Jon Snow stood in thought, his eyes turned south. Tormund Giantsbane had left seven days before Jon had returned to the castle, and it had been another seven since the King in the North had returned home, and he feared the worst. Tormund had left with a large host of wildlings in an attempt to ensure that some of them made it back with the information that Jon needed: now, he was worried that there were three hundred fresh corpses in the army of the Undead.
Winterfell was alive with people coming and going; more and more soldiers arrived by the day. The Karstarks, Glovers, and Umbers; the Mormonts, Forrests and Reeds. Every able bodied man, woman and child from every great Northern house had arrived or were arriving to defend the North from what was to come. Convincing the lords to let the women of their houses fight had been far easier than Jon would've ever expected: they all seemed to realize that this had to be a collective effort, or there was no hope. Down the in the forges, the finest smiths and tool makers the North had to offer were toiled night and day, warping blades of dragonglass into swords, attaching short points to spears. Jon knew that they had a fighting chance: soon the whole of the North's combined force would be equipped with obsidian weapons.
Jon allowed his mind to wander to Daenerys. He had done his best to avoid thinking about her since his return, and in truth it hadn't been as difficult as he might have first imagined. The instant he had stepped through Winterfell's gates he had been swamped with various tasks and duties, his head swimming even now as he tried to recall them. Now, alone, Jon permitted himself to think of the woman who found her way into his dreams every night. She was so beautiful. Jon knew that if he ever saw the Dragon Queen again, he would need to redouble on his efforts to rebuff her: he needed his mind to be unclouded by romantic bias so that he could make decisions based on what was good for the people of the North, not just Jon Snow.
As soft grey clouds above began to cry frozen tears, the movement in Winterfell's courtyard ceased. The crowds parted for the White Wolf as he walked past him; Jon looked regarded them as he passed, unmoved by the the respect, the fear, and the love that their eyes held for him. A boy Rickons age that looked up him, eyes wide as his mother held onto his shoulders, his eyes full of something that bordered on reverence: that terrified Jon.
"Your Grace," a voice called out to Jon, who wrenched his eyes away from the boy in front of him. Maester Wolkan was bustling towards him, his robe swishing to and fro as he stopped in front of his king, breathing heavily. "A raven for you, sire," he said, holding out a small roll of paper, the crimson seal of House Targaryen impressed into the wax. Accepting the scroll, Jon sighed deeply, looking to the grey clouds as if they held the answers that he so desperately sought. Jon lingered there for a moment: his faced upturned, his eyes closed, his lungs filling with the cold, crisp air that surrounded him. People stood and watched as the king in the north departed the courtyard, his brisk, purposeful steps leading him towards his solar.
….
The rhythmic sounds of the Unsullied filled Daenerys's ears. The loud, wild jeering of the Dothraki could barely be heard off infront of her as they scoured the road ahead of the Dragon Queen's main fighting force, the thunder of their hooves a distant rumbling in Dany's ears. The Drums of her Westerosi troops brought up the rear of their strange orchestra; Tyrell, Lannister, Martell, and Greyjoy Troops followed in various states of organization. The road they traveled on was worn down through centuries of use: shards of cobblestone peered up at her through the rough dirt below. Daenerys had been riding for weeks: the moment that Cersei Lannisters scorched body had been laid at her feet, Dany began to make arrangements for their trip north. Grey Worm and Tyrion had set about organizing and arranging the Westerosi portion of her army as troops from various cities and houses poured into the Capital. They had left three days after the sack of King's Landing: Tyrion stayed behind to begin the reconstruction of the red keep and to help smooth the transition between monarchs.
Now, they marched north. Drogon roared overhead, stirring Dany from her restless thoughts: they had been traveling for so long, riding harder and harder every day (or so it seemed to her). She had noticed the air around them getting progressively colder: this morning, they had ridden past a snow covered forest. Randyll Tarly, an experienced military commander whom she had appointed as the general of her Westerosi Troops, assured her that they were a day's ride from White Harbor. Dany felt her stomach stir with excitement: she would get to see Jon soon, and she wouldn't part ways with him again without telling him how she felt about him. She also knew that she shouldn't be allowing herself to feel anything but dread: according to letters they had received from Jon, a large hunting party that had been dispatched from Winterfell had gone missing north of the Wall.
Yet Dany's emotions persisted and intensified with the Cold: her mind filled with thoughts of the King in the North. As the sun began to set, and Daenerys climbed off of her horse, inner thighs aching from effort, a wisp of movement caught her eye. Turning to face the treeline to her east, she scanned the depths shadows cast by of the towering trees. Her heart stopped when two glowing red eyes emerged from behind a snowy trunk.
A giant wolf, as big as her horse, emerged from the darkness and stood, regarding her with the same intelligence that she saw in her dragons. As quickly as he had come, the Wolf was gone, vanishing back into the woods. Daenerys let go of a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding, her eyes scanning the trees infront of her. A howl tore through the cold evening air, setting Dany's men on edge. However, as she listened to the forlorn, sad sound that rang out around her, Dany felt her heart fill with longing as two grey eyes appeared in her mind.
Soon, she thought to herself. Soon.
This is one of the shortest chapters I've ever uploaded, and for that, I am sorry. This update is alot of filler, and I don't want to drag it out anymore than necessary. That being said, the coming installments should be much more intriguing and alot more enjoyable to write, so I'd like to say that it's just going to get better from here. I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. I will be finishing this fic before I move on to The Dragons Revenge: I've decided that juggling multiple stories at the same time isn't a great idea.
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