The Last Stag • Game of Thrones

35.

Chapter Thirty-Five.
The Son of Snow and Stag

Myr was just as she had dreamed it would be.

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, illuminating their bedroom in the soft morning glow. In the distance, waves lapped against the cliff that their house sat upon, the call of seagulls overhead.

A wet nose to the face awoke Renfri. Her eyes drifted open, a smile stretching across her face.

"Good morning, Goj." She whispered, reaching out and scratching the old bears ears. "You wanted attention, huh?"

The bear hummed in response, pushing his head against her hand. She smiled, sitting up, reaching up with one hand and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She looked to the window, noticing that the sun sat higher today than it did most mornings. She groaned, flopping back on the bed in annoyance.

"Jon." She mumbled, her hand finding her lovers face, tapping his cheek gently. "Darling. Get up. We overslept."

Goji grunted, leaving the room, his job done.

Beside her, Jon stirred, blinking slowly as he slipped into consciousness.

"Mm." He kissed the inside of her palm. "I was having the most lovely dream."

"Yeah?" She turned to him, her hair smooshing against the pillow. "What about?"

"You." He took her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist. "Me." A kiss on the inside of her elbow. "Nothing between us..."

"Jon!" She squealed as he picked her up, pulling her over his lap. She laughed, pinning his wrists against the pillows, sighing. "We slept late. Ben has his sword fighting classes at noon and you promised you'd take him, and you need to take Myria with you because she has horseback riding in the afternoon. I've got a full day with the twins, I just got the new order of books in-"

Jon groaned loudly, breaking from her grasp, his hands finding her waist.

"Rob and Ned are three. They have the rest of their lives to learn about the great poets of Essos." He murmured. "Why can't we just stay in bed forever?"

"Because we have four children." Renfri laughed, sliding off of him and moving across the floor towards the wardrobe. "Children that I seem to recall you begging to have more of."

"Not my fault." He laughed, sitting up. "You and your wicked ways. Bewitching me. You've made a mad man of me, Renfri."

In front of her eyes, his image flickered, and then faded away to nothingness.

Renfri's bloodshot eyes snapped open. She was back in her cold cell, the waves rocking the ship beneath her.

With footsteps approaching, she sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

The Dragon Queen came to a stop in front of her cell, eyeing her peculiarly.

"Daenerys." Renfri greeted, raising her eyebrows.

Daenerys said nothing in response, moving to sit opposite Renfri on the floor, sliding down the wall.

"How are you healing?" The Dragon Queen asked, although it was just a formality. "Your shoulder."

Renfri reached up, shrugging her shoulder as she did so. The wound was nearly healed, although she knew she would never have full rotation in that arm again. But it was not her sword arm, so it was less severe than it would be otherwise.

"My child died yesterday." Daenerys eyes' were sullen, elsewhere. "My dragon. Viserion."

"I'm sorry to hear it." Renfri raised an eyebrow, not sure if she was being entirely truthful. But her days of wearing her emotions on her face were over. "Lannister forces, I take it?"