Blood of the Dragon
Daenerys
It is a long flight back. When she flew over there, she had a purpose, so she did not notice the time passing. Now she was calmer, she was not exhilarated as she was after the battle of Mereen. She fought here because she had to, not that she thought the Dothraki would not win it anyway but she felt she had to be there. She needed a victory after the losses, after doing nothing for weeks and weeks; she got one but it felt different. The choices she had to take were different. Harder, even if necessary.
For some reason she wondered what Jon Snow would think about it. She could not understand why his opinion of her mattered so much. She still hopes he will be an ally but there is something more, she craves his personal approval of her. He is stubborn, broody and does not talk much. A walking mystery. He shoots down any questions regarding his past. She still knows almost nothing of him. So annoying. Most men she knew always liked to talk about themselves. He does not. And she would be happy to listen, she likes his voice, somehow it soothes her.
Strictly speaking, he is like no other man in her life. People like him, love him even as she suspects, but she sees him as a very lonely person. He wears his loneliness like a dark cloak and she would like to know what it is that he is hiding underneath. Sometimes before the sleep, she means it literally. Even in his heavy clothes she appreciates his lean and agile body... No, Daenerys Stormborn, stop! She is not going there. She thinks of him too much as it is.
She is getting close, she sees the foggy outlines of Dragonstone. She enjoys riding Drogon and she is so relieved that he is not much hurt. She was not scared for herself but rather for him, her poor baby screamed with pain when that spear hit him. His screams nearly broke her heart. Some man tried to kill her and the other tried to kill her baby, she hopes they were both fried to ashes. She gently strokes Drogon's neck and she hears him purring in satisfaction. She smiles to herself. She sincerely hopes his wound will heal soon. She knows she should not have favourites but he is hers. She loves Viserion and Rhaegal with all her heart but there is this soft spot for Drogon. He is so much like her, independent but loyal, fierce but protective of those who are close to him.
She recalls the face of Jon Snow when he saw her mounting Drogon, it makes her smile. He must have thought her this fragile woman and there she was disproving his prejudices. Maybe she is unfair to him. Apart from those first two encounters, he has been always very gentle and respectful with her. She remembers their conversation in the cave. She feels her cheeks burning, 'Maybe it's this harsh wind', she tries to deceive herself. She closes her eyes, she sees his handsome face glowing in the light of a torch, his warm eyes, his full lips. And she still feels the gentle touch on her arm as if she is branded. She was too taken aback to react at that moment. No one, absolutely no one touches her without her permission now. She bore too much of an abuse in her life to allow it now. She should have rebuked him for this familiarity but she tells herself she was distracted by the carving of White Walkers. And yet at the memory of this touch a shiver runs down her spine. 'Oh, snap out of it, woman!'
She looks for a good place to land, suddenly she sees a lonely figure on the cliff. It is Jon Snow. Lonely again. She is surprised. These days he spends all his time in the cave. Why is he here?
In her mind she tells Drogon to land near him but not too close as not to frighten him unnecessarily. Drogon complies and they land in a safe distance, but then, unprompted, Drogon takes a couple of steps towards Jon Snow, very quickly. She tells Drogon to stop but he does not listen. At last Drogon stops in front of Jon Snow and roars at him. She is afraid now that Drogon may attack Jon. She nearly cries in her mind, 'Don't hurt him!' But then she feels that Drogon is just curious so she breathes more easily.
Drogon stretches his neck towards Jon and his head is dangerously close, she cannot see what is happening. Even if her mind tells her that nothing bad is going to happen, she is terrified, but then she feels Drogon relaxing, she hears him gently purring. Drogon moves slightly, so now she can finally see and she does not know what to think about it. Jon is gently stroking Drogon's head. Her mind is full of positive emotions felt by Drogon but she is dumbstruck. Drogon is the fiercest of her children, both Rhaegal and especially Viserion, quite unlike her brother he was named after, are gentler.
Another mystery added to Jon Snow's mountain of secrets
She decides to dismount and as she comes closer she sees Jon's face clearly. Jon? Where did it came from? Jon Snow, she should say. Whatever you call him, he is full of quiet admiration and his breath is shortened. He meets her eye and she just knows that he just went through a mind shattering experience. But in a good way. She smiles gently.
Jon
He cannot focus. Supervising the mining does not engage his brain as much as it probably should. His thoughts wander towards her despite all his efforts. He knows she probably rode her dragon many times but he is worried. The battle is not the most pleasant experience anyone can live through. And she is tiny, fragile, alone.
From Missandei and some Dothraki he learned that they truly love her. One Dothraki was telling him a story about how she came from the fire. He was not very fluent in Common Tongue and very excitable so Jon thought that either there was some misuse of words or he was just fanciful. Yes, everyone loved and admired her but still he thought of her as a very lonely figure. Last of her family, the great Targaryens, hated, loved, vilified and admired. Before her, he met one Targaryen, Maester Aemon, who was one of the kindest and the wisest people he ever met. It is a shame that he died, Maester Aemon would have the opportunity at least to meet another Targaryen. He was sure Aemon would be proud of her.
Being Targaryen is one thing but aside from that he felt her loneliness and he was certain she did not deserve that. And there she is now, alone again. She only left this morning but he is anxious to see her back on Dragonstone as soon as possible, whole and unharmed.
He sighs with impatience. He solemnly promised himself not to think of her. He needs a distraction. He takes off his robe and gloves, grabs the pickaxe laying nearby and walks deeper into the cave. Hacking at the wall is not an easy task but he strangely enjoys it. All frustration, anxiety, worry and some quiet anger at himself is being put to good use.
He works hard for some time. Then he notices Davos in the corner of his eye, "Your Grace, your help is appreciated here but –"
"I have to do something, Davos!" he interrupts brusquely. "I didn't mean to shout," he checks himself.
After a pause, Davos quietly says, "I believe she is safe."
Jon turns sharply towards Davos. "It has got nothing to do with…" he cannot finish the sentence. He feels unable to lie to Davos. Davos looks at him with surprising gentleness in his eyes but says nothing.
"I need some fresh air," Jon says and leaves Davos, angrily grabbing his cloak and the gloves he exits the cave.
He walks aimlessly for a while, then he has an idea and quickly crosses the bridge and heads towards the cliffs. It seems like a good vantage point. He gazes intently in the direction from which he expects she should be coming. It is late afternoon, the sun is almost setting. Do dragons fly at night? But then he notices a tiny speck at the horizon, a speck that is quickly becoming larger and larger. The dragon. It must be very quick, within a couple of moments it is very close to him. He tries to see if the dragon has a rider. But only when it makes a circle over him he notices her, she does not look hurt. He sighs in relief.
And then with a great thud the dragon lands not far from him. Seven hells, it is a big fucker. He is almost breathless and now the dragon charges towards him. A thought of running quickly crosses his mind but he dismisses it even quicker. Where would he run to? How could he outrun the beast? He stands his ground even if he trembles a little. Not entirely out of fear, it is rather an exhilaration, an awe and fascination all together at once.
The roar of the dragon nearly deafens him. The beast stretches his neck and the enormous head of the dragon is right in front of him. Instinctively rather than directed by common sense, he takes off his glove and slowly reaches for the dragon's head. He thinks of nervous horses he tried to calm down when he was young. Maybe it will work here too. Huge nostrils of the dragon quiver for a while, so Jon steels himself and gently touches the skin. A wave of sheer happiness goes through his body. The skin is rough, yet smooth, he feels the warmth of the body emanating from it. He cannot believe he is touching the dragon, an actual dragon. And it growls but not menacingly, it is a comforting sound somehow.
He was never very religious but at this moment he feels closer to the gods. He is almost tearful. Happy is much too small a word to describe what he feels now. His eyes wander to the eye of the dragon. It feels like looking into the fire. He is not afraid, he feels safe and at peace. The dragon's eye slowly closes and opens again. In his mind Jon thinks it is a small gesture of approval.
He looks at Daenerys. Their eyes meet but he is lost for words and she looks surprised but happily surprised. She slowly dismounts the dragon, when she comes closer, the dragon gently turns his enormous head in her direction and there is this gentle growl again.
She walks briskly towards him, with a gentle smile on her lips. She is safe, she is unharmed. She is back with him.
Daenerys
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" she asks when she reaches Jon and looks lovingly at the dragons flying away in the distance. She hears him chuckle and suggesting that he cannot agree with her on this point. She turns her head sharply and looks at him with indignation.
He quickly changes his tune and he calls her children gorgeous but at the same time he uses the word 'beasts'. She mellows a bit at that but still feels the need to correct him, "They're not beasts to me. No matter how big they get, or how terrifying to everyone else. They're my children."
They stay silent for a while. She watches the dragons with tenderness.
His voice wakes her from her reverie. He asks about the battle. When she tells him that she has now fewer enemies than yesterday, a quick spasm goes across his face and he looks at the ground. He is clearly unhappy.
Not that she is ecstatic about it but she tries to make him understand, "We both want to help people. We can only help them from a position of strength." She pauses. "Sometimes strength is terrible," she adds. He walks alongside her in silence.
Looking at his face, immersed in dark thoughts, she wants to change the subject but nothing significant comes to her mind. Then she recalls what she wanted to ask him a long time ago. They are always in the company of others, so now it seems like a good time as ever. She touches his elbow slightly to make him stop and face her. She needs to see his face when she poses this question.
"When you first came here, Ser Davos said that you took a knife in the heart for the people." She watches him intently.
He is very clearly uncomfortable with it, so he tries to convince her that Ser Davos got carried away. She thinks he is not telling her the whole truth, he wants her to think it is a joke so he smiles. But she did not watch him keenly through all those evenings they spent together not to read his emotions correctly.
"So it was a figure of speech?" she insists.
The smile disappeared and he looks at her earnestly. She thinks he is about to reply when they become aware that they are approached by some Dothraki men, it is her usual guard.
They brought someone with them who claimed to be her friend. When she sees it is Ser Jorah, her heart fills with joy. She is nearly tearful now, Ser Jorah came back. He found the cure. She is very happy now. She needed him, he was always such a support to her. A true friend, an old friend.
And that is how she introduces him to Jon Snow. She is overwhelmed with emotion and she steps forward to embrace Ser Jorah. She needs more friends and he came back. She tells the Dothraki guards that Ser Jorah is her valued guest and orders them to take him to his chambers to be fed and to repose.
"You must tell me everything that happened to you," she addresses Ser Jorah. "I hope you will be refreshed enough for the supper." She is all smiles. It turns out to be a good day after all.
Jon
She smiles at him and then turns her head to look at the dragons flying in the distance, she says that they are beautiful. He chuckles. "Wasn't the word I was thinking of but…" he looks at her and sees she is offended. That was not his intention. And that look she gives him, he quickly checks himself, "…Yes, they are." He makes the mental note not to criticise them in front of the Mother of Dragons.
"Gorgeous beasts," he assures her. Her face softens at it and she explains that she does not considers them as beasts. They are her children. He understands why she is so protective of them. She made them happen. An absolute magic as far as he sees it.
She is looking at dragons again with such a tenderness on her face that he just stares at her unabashedly, as always mesmerised by her. He wishes he could just look at her and forget about all the problems in the world. He would be happy just to be able to look at her. But the reality kicks in and he wakes himself abruptly from this unreal dream.
"You weren't gone long," he offers as a change of subject. Since she is back and in a calm mood, he surmises the battle was successful. He wants to know the details. Her quick 'no' deprives him of them. She does not look ecstatic as one would presume others do after a victorious battle, maybe she is not entirely happy with the result?
"And?" he presses her quietly.
"And I have fewer enemies today than I had yesterday," she replies calmly. So she has her victory. He does not know what to think about it. Presumably he is glad that she won but then he thinks what it must have involved. Death, pain, despair. It seems to him such a waste. Especially with the threat of the Army of the Dead.
As if reading his mind, she says that he is not sure how he feels about that. "No, I'm not," he admits.
"How many men did your army kill taking back Winterfell from the Boltons?" she asks as she starts to walk slowly towards the castle. He follows the suit.
"Thousands," he replies quietly. And his mind wanders to the battle. He thought he would not survive it, he did but it was a massacre. And such a waste of life.
"We both want to help people," she says. "We can only help them from the position of strength." She is right, no one would listen to a mere ranger to help the Wildlings, he could do it because he was the Lord Commander. And even now the North would not be readying themselves if he did not make them as the King in the North.
"Sometimes strength is terrible," she adds. And again he has to agree with her. He never shirked his responsibility for others, but it also made him do terrible things. Sometimes he is crushed by the burden of the guilt he is carrying. She seems to understand that. He feels closer to her than ever before. He is glad that the gods allowed him to meet her and know her. He only wishes it was in different circumstances.
But then she stops him, gently touching his elbow and he is facing her now. She asks about 'a knife in the heart' mentioned by Davos at their first meeting. Now this is a very uncomfortable subject for him. Magic of dragons is one thing, but coming back from the dead is quite a different story. "Ser Davos gets carried away," he tries to brush if off, giving her reassuring smile. Nevertheless she persists. He is faced with the dilemma; he does not want to lie to her but he is very reluctant to tell her the whole story. He thinks she deserves the truth from him but he cannot bring himself to tell her the gory details. She is looking at him very keenly and he knows she will not let it go easily. He is bracing himself to tell her but he is miraculously saved from doing that as the Dothraki guards came up to them. They say something to her that he does not understand and then he sees that they brought with them a man he never saw before, a Westerosi by all accounts.
She seems to recognise the man. Her voice softens as he had never heard it do before. It is obvious that this man is important to her. The man kneels before her and calls her 'your grace' and then he looks at him suspiciously.
Daenerys introduces the man as Ser Jorah Mormont. Mormont? He realises quickly that this is the son of his old Lord Commander. "I served with your father," he says to Mormont. "He was a great man."
Mormont nods but says nothing. Jon recalls now what he had heard of Ser Jorah before. He was sentenced by Jon's father for trading in slavery. She introduced him as an old friend, it confuses him. She of all people should feel very strongly about it. And yet she is apparently moved to see him, her voice is soft and gentle when she asks him if he had found the cure. The cure? A cure for what? Nothing is explained and now Mormont asks her to take him back to her service. "It would be my honour," she says. Jon is really very confused now. Then she takes a step towards Mormont and embraces him.
Jon feels a thud in his stomach. He has never seen her being that comfortable with anyone. Well, maybe with Missandei, but he always presumed it was a girl thing. He feels a hot wave engulfing his whole body. He is jealous, really jealous. Where did it came from? What is happening to him? He never felt jealous about a woman. Never. Luckily for him, the embrace does not last long and she steps back to her place by Jon. 'A small victory' he thinks. He knows he glowers at Mormont but he cannot help himself. She said he was an old friend. A friend? Is it all that there really is? At times he thought that he saw her looking at him with softness in her eyes but now he knows he was wrong. She just wants an ally. This here, this is a real emotion. He does not say another word when they walk back to the castle.
Daenerys
She does not understand what is wrong. Yet she feels very strongly that something is wrong. Did she say anything? Has he received some bad news from home? No, she would have known about that. Yet he is changed. Well, he never really talked much. He is a typical Northern strong, silent type. But his attitude towards her has changed. He is polite but not engaging. He avoids her eye. Looking at the floor seems to be a favourite pastime for him now. He sulks. And she cannot fathom the reason for it. She seems to recall that the change came with the arrival of Ser Jorah but surely it cannot be it. What has Jorah to do with it? It does not even make sense.
It is annoying to her that the more he avoids her, the more she craves his company. She cannot understand why. He is right here and she misses him. What is wrong with her? Her dreams became even more disturbing now and in her time alone she keeps coming back to reminiscing their conversation in the cave. The way he looked at her there. And the touch, even if for a fleeting moment.
Whenever he enters the room she is in, her heart is beating faster. It never really happened before. She came to love Drogo and she enjoyed his body but he had never made her feel that way. With Daario it was pure lust. She knows he loved her but he never invaded her dreams. She did not tremble at the thought of him touching her. With Ser Jorah… well, she came to love him as a friend and a kind of father figure. Not that she knew her father. And not that she wished she knew him.
So what is it about Jon? Or Jon Snow rather.
She simply cannot be in love in him. There it is. She finally allowed herself to use the word when she is thinking about him.
She loved Drogo and it felt nothing like it. She lusted after Daario but it felt nothing like it either. So what is it about Jon? Why does she even care if he looks at her or not? Why does she even care if he likes her or not?
He is just an useful ally. That is all. 'Just stop thinking about him,' she tells herself.
Jon
He does not remember when it was the last time he was so miserable. The evenings in her company became a torture.
Especially the evening of the arrival of Mormont. Well, at least he now learned that greyscale is curable, he did not know that it could be. And some part of him was worried that she touched Mormont. What if he was not cured? Grudgingly he has to admit it highly unlikely. He can clearly see how Mormont looks at her, doing those cow eyes at her. Mormont would not risk infecting her. He bloody loves her. And she seems to enjoy his company which is more annoying than Jon can take.
When Mormont mentioned the Maesters at the Citadel he wanted to ask if he met Sam but as he did not trust the tone of his voice, he kept silent. In any case it would be highly unlikely, Sam was learning to become a Maester, in what possible circumstances could they have met?
In any case, from this evening on, he does all he can to avoid her. He thinks he could not bear to hear even a little dose of her gushing over Mormont. And yet despite his stubborn attitude towards Mormont, he is too honest not to allow that Mormont seems like an honourable man and his devotion to her is unquestionable. Mormont saved her life twice. Even if nothing more is said about the circumstances, he understands why she trusts him.
That evening Jon made some deep soul searching. He is acting unreasonably. He is jealous and yet he has no claim on her. Seven hells, why should he have? She obviously does not care for him at all. She only sees him as an ally. He deluded himself that there might be something building between them. Something more than strategic alliance. Oh, what a fool he has been! He needs to get a grip on himself. He is here to mine dragonglass and possibly make her an ally. Nothing more, nothing less.
Well, easier said than done.
The more he avoids her, the more he craves her company. Her face is the face he sees when he closes his eyes in bed. Despite his steely resolution of not thinking about her, his mind wanders to her constantly. The way she looked at him in the cave, her flying this gigantic dragon like it is next to nothing. As it turns out her looking into his eyes was not as special as he thought. She is just very intense and he fell for it like a child.
He knew instantly that Ygritte took a fancy to him and he was not wrong. But then Ygritte was different, similarly fierce and strong perhaps, but more straightforward. She was not playing games.
Daenerys is a royalty, he presumes the political games are in her blood. And still he thinks she is different than others, she has a kind heart and she wants to protect her people. It does not hurt to add that she is more beautiful than he could ever imagine. He remembers when King Robert and Queen Cersei came to Winterfell; everyone whispered how beautiful she was and how she was the most beautiful lady in Westeros. He begs to differ. Especially since Daenerys arrived at Dragonstone.
He thinks that he is only bitter now because his hopes were raised. Well, maybe it was not anybody's fault, maybe his own imagination was too robust.
In any case he learned his lesson. When you imagine yourself in love, it is probably just something you ate yesterday. Hold on. Love? Where did it come from? He is not in love. There is no time and this is not a place to feel things. He has a task at hand, a task he may not survive but at least he will try. War time is not a time for feelings. They distract and this is what happened, he got distracted. No more of this Daenerys stuff, he has the humanity to protect.
Her eyes are like mountain lakes and he could happily drown in them… 'Oh, for fuck's sake, Jon, get a grip on yourself.'
Daenerys
He reads his scroll in silence. She watches him with anxiety. Is it bad news? Why has he got so pale out of the sudden? She is impatient to know but she knows he must do it in his own time. Finally he reads the scroll out loud, in a very monotone voice. It is not bad news, is it? She is confused. There is a long silence.
"I thought Arya was dead. I thought Bran was dead," he finally speaks.
She does not understand, this is good, right? "I'm happy for you," she says. It made no impact on him, he still stares at the map gloomily. "You don't look happy," she states what she sees. He does not even look in her direction.
"Bran saw the Night King and his army marching towards Eastwatch. If they make it past the Wall…" he tosses the scroll angrily. Varys tries to interpose that the Wall kept them away for thousands of years.
She sees that he does not listen to any of them. "I need to go home," he says emphatically.
Her heart sinks. She has not thought about it for some reason. She just accepted his presence here without looking much into the future, how stupid of her. Is she now to lose him? She is not ready for it yet. Will she ever be? She starts to feel annoyed at herself. She feels she needs to say something. "You said you don't have enough men."
"We'll fight with the men we have," he still does not look at her. "Unless you'll join us?" Finally her presence was acknowledged by his eyes.
"And give the country to Cersei?" she asks a little annoyed. "As soon as I march away she marches in."
Finally her Hand joins the conversation. Tyrion wants to prove Cersei wrong in disbelieving the story about the White Walkers. He proposes to bring the dead to her.
Now she is confused, "I thought that was what we were trying to avoid?" she says. Tyrion explains that they only have to bring one soldier as an example. Apparently it is possible as Jon explains that he met his first wight in Castle Black. A wight? What is that? Is it a dead man? This conversation is getting out of hand in her opinion. Everyone suddenly seems eager to go with it but she thinks it is a stupid plan. Is she the only one seeing how dangerous it may be?
Even Varys concedes with the only exception that they would need to convince Cersei to listen to them instead instantly trying to kill them. Tyrion suggests that in order to convince her, he needs to convince Jaime.
She is starting to lose her patience. "And how would you get in King's Landing?" she asks. Both Jon and Tyrion look at Ser Davos. Ah, yes, his past as a smuggler.
It all seems like settled but there is this crucial thing of getting a dead man as she points out. Varys supports her and ask Jon how he proposes to find one. Jon is silent. He looks uneasy.
Then Ser Jorah proposes to go and catch one. Is everyone mad today? And it is she that is always accused of being mad as her father. She is surprised and looks at Ser Jorah, she thought he was smarter than this. If this is the way he wants to prove himself to her, it is a stupid way. She hears Jon mentioning that the Free Folk will help them. She is still looking at Jorah. She is worried as it is a dangerous mission and she is afraid for him. She only just got him back, for goodness sake.
"They won't follow Ser Jorah," says Davos. Maybe there is a hope of abandoning this stupid, dangerous plan. She looks quickly at Ser Davos and then she hears it, "They won't have to."
Jon! He wants to go with them beyond the Wall! She feels as if someone kicked her in her stomach. She looks into Jon's eyes desperately, pleading; she is now overcome with fear and despair. He cannot go there. It is too dangerous, she cannot lose him. She thinks she sees something in his eyes that looks like goodbye. He cannot be going. The sudden realisation of losing him, not only going away from Dragonstone, but quite possibly losing him forever, is more than she can bear. She is on the brink of tears and when he breaks the eye contact with her, she is desperately trying to compose herself. She has to do something, stop him from going. "I haven't given you permission to leave," she finally says in, what she hopes, her most regal tone.
She finally gained his full attention. "With respect, Your Grace, I don't need your permission," he replies forcefully. "I am a king." She is spellbound and listens to him very intently. "And I came here knowing that you could have your men behead me, or your dragons burn me alive. I put my trust in you, a stranger, because I knew it was the best chance for my people. For all our people. Now I'm asking you, to trust in a stranger, because it is our best chance."
That was surprisingly well put and her respect for him has just got bigger. As much as she does not want him to go, she knows she is not really given an option. He must know by now that she trusts him and so there really is no choice. She glances towards Tyrion, who slightly nods, but she knew already that she would have to let him go. She quickly nods her approval but all she wants to do now is to cry like a little girl. She needs to be alone, she is not sure for how long she can keep her composure. "Very well, my lords. You must all make your plans. I'd like to be alone now."
Varys, Tyrion and Ser Davos leave immediately. Only Jon and Ser Jorah linger a little longer and finally she is left with only Jon, still looking at her. She cannot look into his eyes, she stares at the map, she hopes that if she does not move or speak he will go.
No such luck, "Your Grace…" he starts gently.
She cannot allow it, not now, "I expect you will be needing your sword, Your Grace. I shall make sure that it is given back to you today."
She quickly stands up and walks towards the window, turning her back on him. Just in time. Two lonely tears are streaming down her face, but watching the sea calms her.
Jon
His mind is in a swirl. He reads it again and again. Part of him is rejoicing, all the living Starks are home and safe, well, safe as they can be with a threat of the Army of the Dead looming over them. Meanwhile he sits here on this island, wasting his time. He hears what is being spoken to him but he does not react. He is angry at himself, he should be doing something.
They do not realise in what danger they are all in. He tells the room that he needs to go home.
She of all people should have known better that he does not have enough men. When he suggests that she should join him she only thinks about that bloody throne. He is angry at her because she kept him here and distracted him. He cannot help anybody from here.
Then Tyrion comes up with an idea. Jon made himself so angry that at first he does not grasp the full implications of it. As he calms down a bit and actually starts to listen, it dawns on him that it may not be the worst idea he had ever heard. They would have to catch a wight and show the others what is the actual threat. Tyrion may have finally found the answer to his original question that he posed on the cliff on the second day here. How to convince people that the threat is real? By showing them what it involves.
"Is that possible?" asks Davos.
"The first wight that I ever saw was brought into Castle Black from beyond the Wall," Jon replies.
The conversation is going quickly now as even Lord Varys is seem to be in accord. Jon thinks that it may actually work. Cersei needs to accept the truce, so Tyrion offers to go to King's Landing to talk it over with his brother.
She asks how Tyrion plans to get to King's Landing. She sounds annoyed but he does not care about it at the moment. That is the easiest answer ever. He looks at Davos who concedes. The plan starts to look doable.
"But it'll all be for nothing if we don't have one of these dead men," she points out. He still hears annoyance in her voice, to be honest he sees nothing to be annoyed about from her perspective. But she is right, catching a wight is crucial to their plan.
"How do you propose to find one?" asks Varys. Jon knows the answer to this already, as much as he hates going beyond the Wall again, he is ready to try to catch a wight. Tormund is at Eastwatch, so he is sure that he will get help. But before he can answer, Ser Jorah offers himself, "With the queen's permission, I'll go North and take one."
'Seven hells, what is this? It is supposed to be my mission,' Jon thinks.
"You asked me to find a cure so I could serve you. Allow me to serve you," continues Ser Jorah.
It did not escape Jon's notice how quickly she reacted to Ser Jorah's offer, she turned her head towards him and listened with horror. It is obvious that she cares for Ser Jorah. Jon felt the pang of jealousy again. Despite his resolution, he wished she showed at least a portion of that anxiety for him. No, this is stupid. Why should he care? In any case it is getting out of control, he already decided that he is going and if Jorah wants to join, he can use an additional warrior by his side.
His declaration that he is going on this mission stuns the room. His eyes inadvertently go to her. She is positively staring at him. She looks as if she is shocked and deeply worried. She looks unhappy. He does not want to make her unhappy but he needs to go. Seeing the pain in her eyes actually makes him feel horrible. He has been ranting at her in his mind and there she is, this beautiful, ferocious and kind queen obviously worried about his wellbeing. He cannot take it anymore, he looks down, it hurts him to see her pain.
Davos interjects, "You can't lead the raid beyond the Wall. You're not in the Night's Watch anymore, you're King in the North."
"I'm the only one here who's fought them. I'm the only one here who knows them," Jon tries to explain.
Then he hears the queen speak for the first time since he proposed to go. She says that she did not permit him to leave. Well. He tries to explain to her as firmly as he can manage that he is a king and does not need her permission. For a short moment he thinks that he spoke too harshly, nevertheless he continues in the same tone. He tells her the she has to trust him as he put his trust in her. His voice is gentler at the end of the speech because he can clearly see that despite the words of haughtiness she is still worried and anxious, and that worry and anxiety is due to him going beyond the Wall. She looks quickly towards Tyrion and then gives a very brief nod of approval to his request.
He keeps looking at her but she broke the eye contact and stubbornly stares at the table. She asks them all to leave. Everyone walks out of the room except him and Ser Jorah that is. He sees in the corner of his eye that Jorah is watching him. After a short hesitation Jorah leaves the room.
He does not take his eyes off her. She is sitting motionless, still focused on the table. She reminds him of the dolls Sansa played with when she was little. They were definitely Sansa's toys, Arya never touched them. But she is more beautiful than any doll or anyone he has ever seen.
There is a feeling of tenderness and protectiveness in him for her. There she is. Alone again. He wants to explain to her in private his reasons for going. He wants to reassure her. And yes, he wants to take her into his arms and kiss away her sadness. "Your Grace…" he starts.
She immediately interrupts him and tells him that she will return his sword to him, then she turns her back to him and he knows that the precious moment is lost. He slowly leaves the room.
Daenerys
As soon as she saw Tyrion's face when he came back from King's Landing, she knew his mission was successful. She would not have called it that. She still thinks that the raid is stupid and dangerous. A week has passed since this mad idea of a raid had been planned. They are all busy with preparations. They are leaving today. She sits with Missandei in her own chambers. She is not a good company today. She tried to avoid everyone, but she trusts Missandei implicitly, she is the only one allowed to see the queen not acting regally.
"I wish you were there," she says to Missandei. "Maybe two voices of reason would discourage them from being a hero."
"Your Grace, Jon Snow had already been there and he knows what to expect. I'm sure he will be well prepared and careful," replies Missandei.
She knows Missandei wants to console her. "Sometimes you can have all the preparations and plans in place, but still it all goes wrong," she muses. "And Ser Jorah, one would have thought that getting his health back would give him more reasons to live instead he is acting like he is looking for an honourable death."
"Valar morghulis," says Missandei quietly.
"Indeed," Daenerys agrees. "But there is no such thing as an honourable death. It's just death."
"I'm sure that they both come back, Your Grace. Especially Lord Snow," Missandei smiles gently.
She glances at Missandei sharply. "I've told you already, it is just your imagination." Before Missandei has a chance to reply, the door opens and a tall Dothraki comes in and nods. "It is time, Your Grace," Missandei says.
Daenerys stands up and walks towards the door, then she stops and turns, "No," she says to Missandei. "You stay, I don't want to feed your vivid imagination more than it's necessary." They both smile in understanding.
Her long walk towards the beach, gives her time to think unperturbed. What if it is the last time she ever sees Jon? Should she say anything? If so what should it be? There is nothing to say. She must be wrong about it all. She just imagined it, she must be as bad as Missandei. Maybe there is something in their food.
She sees Tyrion talking to Ser Jorah. She is glad they have grown to respect each other. When she reaches them, Tyrion steps back.
She and Jorah smile at each other. "We should be better at saying farewell by now," she says.
"Your Grace, I…" Ser Jorah starts but she interrupts him by taking his hands in hers. She does not know if she did it instinctively to prevent him from saying things she does not want to hear or for any other reason, in any case she succeeded. In the silence between them they hear quick steps approaching. Ser Jorah glances in their direction, then quickly kisses her hands. She followed his gaze only to confirm her suspicion that it is Jon coming from the direction of the caves.
As soon as Jorah walks away, Jon stops in front of her. She looks at him as if she wants to memorise every wrinkle and every scar on his beautiful face, but particularly his eyes, those eyes that have been haunting her dreams for months. He looks on her only fleetingly, as if he wants to make this moment less solemn.
"If I don't return, at least you won't have to deal with the King in the North anymore," he offers. They both smile briefly.
"I've grown used to him," she replies.
His smile slowly fades and he leaves her with the traditional wishes of warriors. He nods and walks to the boat.
She would have never thought on seeing him arrive those two months or more ago, that she would be in in actual pain to see him leave. She stares long after the boat up to the point when they reach the ship. She is almost afraid that she will not have strength to turn her back on him.
Jon
He went to the cave one more time to see the progress of mining. Even if he does not come back, he hopes the dragonglass will be delivered to Winterfell. They will need it all very soon. He notices the entrance to the little cave where the carvings of the Children were, for some reason he used to go there often. He wonders if the delicate smell of her perfume still lingers there.
Maybe it is all for the best. If he does not come back, he will not have to deal with his feelings. It is much too complicated as it is. And then there is Ser Jorah, maybe he will manage to come back and will be awarded by his queen. He noticed before how Mormont looks at him when he thinks Jon is not paying attention. Mormont cannot be happy that Jon is at Dragonstone.
He walks quickly out of the cave. He sees her from afar. She came to say farewell. She looks a perfection as always. It does not help. Well, he will try to make it quick. Less pain, the better.
He sees them holding hands. Familiar pang of jealousy is there again. He is angry at himself and that anger translates itself into his frustration as he has some problems with putting his gloves on. He tugs at them maniacally.
Mormont kisses her hands. Gods be good, does he do it on purpose? The only thing he should be thinking about now is the mission and he knows he will as soon as the main distraction of his life stays behind on Dragonstone.
She is finally alone, so he walks quickly towards her. He tries to joke to cover his nervousness. And although she answers playfully, he is unable to smile. He tries to take it all in, her exquisite face and all the magnificence of the rest of her body. It would be a nice picture to bring to mind with his last breath.
"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, Your Grace," he says solemnly. Good gods, her eyes are even bigger today. 'Make it quick,' he reminds himself.
He nods and walks towards the boat. It takes all of his inner strength not to look behind him. The mission, all he will think about from now on is the mission.
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