Jon Snow II
It took the King in the North a few minutes to collect himself after his encounter with the Dragon Queen at the bow of her flagship.
It was overwhelming.
The guilt in her eyes as she told him about the Tarlys… He knew it was not because she took a life post-battle as much as it was because she feared that she had wronged someone he cared about.
The need to comfort her quickly overtook him to the extent that he broached a topic he had discussed but a handful of times and only with Davos, Melisandre, and Sansa. It was a secret he preferred to keep hidden in an attempt to quell the question of why that has been plaguing his mind since he came back from nothing.
He had only touched her twice before tonight both of which were uninvited but not at all unwelcomed.
The first was in the dragonglass cave when he led her to the drawings depicting the Night King and the White Walkers – the real enemy they were all facing. It was a brief and light touch. And she was too much in awe of standing where the Children of the Forest and the First Men had stood thousands of years ago to care about his break in decorum.
The second time was in his sickbed on their way back from Eastwatch to Dragonstone. He awoke to her by his side to find a great loss eating at her heart and a torrent of emotions flooding her lilac eyes. Without thinking, he grabbed her right hand from her lap and held it between them so naturally it did not feel like it was the first time their bare skin touched.
He had wanted to comfort her again tonight. But, this time, he was not confined to a bed. He was standing next to her and so, he held her tightly and brushed away her tears as she unraveled in his arms and became Dany – a side of her he saw so rarely but longed to bury his soul inside.
And in kissing her; in the contrast between her soft plum lips and her hot demanding tongue, with her left hand gently caressing the back of his neck while her right rested over his speedily beating heart, he found a warmth he had not even known he craved, for the ice had long been engraved in his bones.
He inhaled a deep breath of the chilly evening air and braced himself to go back down below deck to face her again. And as soon as he crossed the threshold of the ship's main hall, their eyes locked.
She was sitting at the head of the table as she had been earlier. But, Tyrion and Jorah were no longer at her right and left. Missandei was now in Tyrion's seat having slanted it closer to Daenerys as they hushed and giggled.
The Hound had vacated his seat and was now hunched over the hearth to the right of the door staring into the flames. At that end of the table, Jorah had brought his seat over and was now deep in conversation with Davos, Tyrion, and Grey Worm who had preferred to sup with his men earlier. A map of the North lay in front of them and they were taking turns moving small wooden sigil figures around it in what Jon presumed to be proposing military strategies for defending the realm against the dead.
As Jon's eyes locked with Daenerys's when he entered the room, he felt their eyes on him and so he broke his gaze with her and turned looking down at them: "I thought we were taking the night off".
"I'm surprised the King in the North knows the value of rest," responded Daenerys playfully from across the room.
Even Daenerys is still referring to me as 'King'?
Missandei got up from her seat next to the Queen as Jon circled the table towards them. "I'll go light the fire in your cabin, Your Grace," said the brown-skinned woman before exchanging a knowing look with her Queen and leaving the main hall.
Jon looked at Missandei's vacated seat and found it inappropriate to sit that close to Daenerys given their present company. He slanted it back and sat in Tyrion's original spot as the dwarf now occupied his. He looked across the room to the Hound hunched over the hearth and recalled the man's reaction to the burning wight bear beyond the Wall. "I thought you didn't like fire, Clegane," Jon asked not in a patronizing tone; but, rather in a concerned one.
"I don't," he responded without flinching. "But, Thoros had urged me to look into the flames. And I saw the vision that led us to Eastwatch".
Intrigued, it was Daenerys's turn to ask: "Do you see anything now?"
"Nothing of importance," the Hound still did not turn around even after being addressed by the Queen.
"Oh, I pray, do tell," interjected Tyrion whose tone was rather mocking.
The Hound turned to Tyrion intimidatingly: "Fuck off!" Then, he remembered that he was in the Queen's presence and had just insulted her Hand. So, he turned to her and quickly said: "Apologies, Your Grace" almost mumbling the last two words.
Waving her left hand, she responded: "That's quite alright. We're at war. A bit of crassness can be expected". Daenerys paused, then asked: "What did you see, Sandor?"
"Fire melting ice," he answered her. "Ice extinguishing fire," he brought one of the two armless chairs on either side of the hearth to the center of the table. "I don't know. They blurred," he sat down. "See? Nothing of importance".
"You'd be wise not to trust in the Lord of the Light's visions," Davos interjected from the other end of the table.
"I don't trust any Lord," the Hound scoffed back.
"Then, what are you doing fighting in the Great War, Clegane?" Tyrion now asked seriously.
"I wanna kill my cunt of a brother," he answered as if he was ordering a bowl of stew and two chickens at the Crossroads Inn.
"Don't we all," said Daenerys with a sigh.
Jon turned to look at her, she stared ahead and explained: "During the Sack of King's Landing, the Mountain killed my brother Rhaegar's two children, then raped and killed his wife Elia Martell".
"I thought that was just a story," Jon said in shock.
It was Tyrion who now explained: "Not just a story. He admitted it during my trial by combat for Joffery's murder before crushing Oberyn Martell's head in a thousand pieces with his bare hands. You see, Cersei had chosen the Mountain as her champion and so, the Red Viper volunteered to be mine in an attempt to avenge his sister and her children".
Jon gulped. The more time he spent with Daenerys and her entourage, the more he learned of the horrors inflicted upon her family, the innocent and the wicked alike. The people suffered because a King was mad, because a Prince was driven by lust. When Rhaegar kidnapped and raped Jon's aunt Lyanna, he sparked Robert's Rebellion, which took the lives of soldiers, smallfolk, and noblemen by the thousands.
And the woman now sitting next to him was left a newborn babe with no family to love her save for a cruel brother who used her for his own ends. He reached out his left hand beneath the table and took her right, which was resting on her thigh. He squeezed it as he turned his head to look upon her with eyes that said I know what it's like to be alone.
He did not let his hand linger though lest Tyrion notices – as if he hadn't noticed them already. Jon changed the subject directing yet another question to the Hound: "Clegane, do you know what happened to Arya after she escaped the Brotherhood?"
He took a mouthful of ale and placed his tin cup on the table before answering: "I took her".
Jon's eyes widened and showed a flint of anger that only grew as the Hound continued: "I wanted to deliver her to your brother Robb in exchange for some silver. Took her up to the Twins. We arrived on the night…," he paused to find the right words, "of the Red Wedding. It had already started. She was lucky; if we had arrived any earlier, she would've definitely perished with them". He paused again. Then said with a sigh: "But, she saw it all".
That's what you call 'lucky'?
Jon had heard the stories of the Red Wedding and had often dreamt of them waking up to a cold sweat. It was horrific to visualize them and he could not even begin to imagine what it was like for Arya to have witnessed it with her own eyes. He realized he had been gripping the end of the table tightly while the Hound spoke; but, asked him in a cold emotionless tone: "Then, what happened?"
"I took her to the Eyrie to her aunt Lysa. But, by the time we got there, she'd been dead for three days," recounted Clegane.
Sansa was there. His sisters had come so close to reuniting. Jon wondered what could have happened if they had. Littlefinger would have probably tried to sell Arya off to some noble family for his own gain as he did with Sansa.
I must deal with that sleezy whoremonger before the real fighting begins.
Recalling how feisty Arya was as a child, Jon thought she would have probably stuck Needle's pointy end in Littlefinger's chest before she would let anyone touch her.
How did she even hold on to it through all of this? Jon had recently learnt from Lady Brienne that Arya had become rather skilled with the skinny blade he had gifted her the night he left for the Wall.
Jon had so many questions for his favorite little sister. He was exhilarated that he would see her again in just a few weeks; but, he dreaded hearing of her journey. Ever since Sansa told him of the horrors that have befallen her, he had a fiery urge to kill all those who have wronged her. He almost beat Ramsay Bolton to death with his bare hands before he felt her eyes on him and stopped, putting the wolf back in its cage.
Arya was younger than Sansa and from what he was hearing, it sounded like she had roamed the lands in the wild without even a roof over her head. The knuckles on his hand gripping the table turned white at the thought. He, then, felt Daenerys's hand grab his this time around, her touch warm and comforting. It calmed him.
He took a deep breath and asked: "Where'd you take her after that?" Jon thought their next logical destination would have been Castle Black, to him.
The Hound almost rolled his eyes as he began to say: "Brienne of fuckin' Tarth came upon us, said she swore to Catelyn Stark that she'd protect her daughters. But, the girl didn't wanna go with her. So, I tried to fight her off".
Jon knew the rest of this story: "Brienne told Sansa".
"The littlewolf hated me so much she wouldn't give me a merciful death and left me to my fate," the Hound spat.
Jon smiled internally. That does sound like Arya.
Then, Tyrion asked with a devilish smile: "Wait, Lady Brienne beat the Hound in single combat?"
Clegane glared.
"She sounds like a formidable woman," said a smiling Daenerys as she sipped the last of her wine.
"She had a Valyrian steel sword!" the Hound snapped.
"Excuses," said Ser Jorah under his breath.
A laugh broke out across the room and for a few moments, it no longer seemed like they were heading to a fight that could end their lives and the whole of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Well, at least now, we can end the night on a good note," said Daenerys as she placed her silver wine goblet on the table. She stood and waved the men off when they started to join her: "Please, stay".
"Enjoy the well deserved rest," she said before stealing a glance at Jon and leaving.
The rest of the evening was a blur for Jon. As the men shared war stories, his mind wandered back to his earlier encounter with Daenerys at the bow of the Silver Queen. Her touch ignited a fire in the pit of his stomach, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. At some point, he got up from his seat, took off his cloak, and placed it on the chair noticing that Tyrion had left. Jon, then, grabbed Daenerys's vacated chair and dragged it around the table in front of the hearth. He sat down, his legs extended out and crossed at the ankles, and stared into the flames. He was not looking for a vision from the Lord of Light like Clegane. He had given up on finding an answer to as to why he was brought back. But, he longed for the warmth he felt earlier in her embrace. She was fire incarnated and as he stared into the flames, he knew it would burn him; yet, he wanted it to consume him all the same.
He caught Missandei re-entering the room from the corner of his eye. She gave him a cheeky knowing smile, almost winking at him, before turning to Grey Worm sitting at the table and laying her hand softly on his shoulder. Jon wondered if Daenerys had told her friend about her earlier encounter with him. They were giggling like girls when he had come back. And now, Missandei was giving him that look.
Is that an invitation from Daenerys?
There was only one way to find out. Jon got up and purposefully walked out of the room only to be stopped by Davos before taking the right hallway that led to her cabin.
"Jon, a word?" The Onion Knight asked.
Gods.
The King in the North now turned left and led them to his own cabin. He entered first with the Onion Knight on his heels. Davos closed the door and asked worriedly: "You're not looking to the flames for answers, are you, lad?".
"Of course, not," retorted Jon as he took off his steal armor as if he was retiring for the night. Need to maintain the façade. He went to the small hearth in his cabin, grabbed a few logs of wood from the pile next to it, and occupied himself with starting up the fire.
When he turned back around, Davos was sitting at the small rounded table between the hearth and Jon's bed. Jon took the seat in front of him and looked across the room to the windows through which the moon light now beamed.
"You're playing a dangerous game," said Davos in a heavy voice.
"I'm not playing," responded Jon quickly almost under his breath.
"That's precisely the problem," Davos sighed, "the Great War is no Game, that much I know, but it ain't devoid of it either. When you swore your sword to the Dragon Queen, you didn't consult anyone. Not me; your advisor. Not your sister; the Lady of Winterfell. And definitely not the Northern Lords who made you King in the first place".
"What are you trying to say, Davos?" Jon's patience was almost running out.
"Given everything that she's done in the past few months; allowing you to mine the dragonglass, losing a dragon," Jon flinched for his role in her devastation as Davos continued, "the truce with the Southern Queen, and committing her armies to our fight, there's a good chance we can convince the Northerners to accept her and put aside their enmities".
"Aye," Jon nodded as this was his own logic.
"But," I knew this was horse shit, "that's not gonna happen if they see your infatuation with her-".
Jon cut him off: "I'm not-".
"I know that," Davos exclaimed, "that's not how they'll see it though". He paused, then said: "It's dangerous. You'd die for her and she'd probably do the same for you".
"You don't know that," scoffed Jon.
"You didn't see her when you were lying in this bed on the brink of death," Davos responded teasingly.
If the cabin was not so dim lit, the Onion Knight would have probably seen his King almost blush. Davos sighed, then said: "All I'm asking is for you to be careful, for the both of you". He got up and walked to the cabin's door. With his hand holding the knob, he turned to Jon and said before leaving: "And if you're not gonna use your bed tonight, at least ruffle it up a little for appearances' sake".