I Am Not a Woman, I'm a God - Jonerys [18+]

Couldn't keep it locked away, couldn't take it to the grave

A/N: Aftermath of Brans letter. Tension and drama. A chat with Jaime Lannister puts an idea in Daenerys' head as they race to Winterfell.

"I got my bedsheets pulled right out from under me
I can't keep hiding what's been underneath
No fancy covering
You get just what you see
You get, you get, you get

Breaking down
Let the words fall from my mouth
All the things I've never shown
All the things you'd never know
Hear me out
'Cause I never made the sound
Couldn't keep it locked away
Couldn't take it to the grave

Was feeling empty
Feeling with uncertainty
I couldn't be left inside a room with me
Now I believe running only gets you where you see"

to the grave – Bea Miller (feat. Mike Stud)
********

Daenerys

"The Wall has fallen. The dead are on their way. Their progress is slow. Something is holding him back... Make haste to Winterfell." Daenerys finished reading the letter aloud and bravely met Jon's eye. She stifled the urge to flinch at his autumnal eyes' lack of light and warmth.

It felt like a very long time before either of them spoke. Knee deep in silence, each flap of the tent door crashing through the air like a glass shattering on stone, they stared at each other. Her hand shook, the parchment fluttering as she offered it to Jon, who took it silently. She watched as his eyes skipped over the short text, waiting for him to blame her for keeping them in the South for too long. She was surprised when he spoke and didn't toss the fault at her feet.

"What does he mean by 'somethin' is holding him back'?"

Dany shrugged. Her chest felt unbearably tight as she imagined leagues of dead men making it past the Wall and cursed every God she knew the name of. Their problem had always been time. They never had enough of it, and that which they did have kept slipping through their fingers like water, and she knew it was pointless to try and cling to it, but she did it anyway. Now the water had changed to ice and melted each time she closed her fists around it. As the days went by, marked by rough hands and gentle, sweet talk, her resolve waned and threatened to fracture. The task before them seemed insurmountable as she shakily unfastened her coat.