Nothing Burns Like The Cold (Game of Thrones fanfiction)

Dany VI

I'm ready.

As evening settled into night, Dany's flagship north had come to life along the still waters of the Narrow Sea. Copious amounts of food, wine and conversation had flowed around the large dining table this evening, an indulgent continuation of last night's festivities on Dragonstone.

Good omens, she thought, praying for more of them as she willingly returned to the frozen tundra of her nightmares, this time better prepared for the journey. The ship had been stocked with a plethora of amenities fit for both King and Queen and their closest advisors; cured and fresh meats, cheeses, ales and wines, flatbreads, combs of honey, and the last of the fruit including a modest crate of lemons for Jon's sister. There were also plenty of heavy furs and wools, medicines, and as many candles and flints as could be gathered. Freshly forged dragonglass weapons took up much of the hull space. If this was going to be a long trip through unpredictable weather under dangerous circumstances, Dany wanted their short respite at sea to at least be a pleasurable one.

Devising this trip to White Harbor and onto Winterfell had proved more difficult than expected. Both Jorah and Tyrion strongly objected to her going over land and sea citing safety concerns, but Dany had remained unwilling to budge on the matter, a continued sore point at every discussion. But there was something else that threw her off guard, ever since returning from King's Landing; Tyrion's growing displeasure over her budding relationship with Jon. Ha! How dare he? After all of his incessant ribbing about her stolen glances and Jon's longing stares, practically throwing them together through well-placed words in conversations? She didn't even want to think of Jorah and his own manner of intrusion; sound advice masquerading as interference. With the exception of Missandei and Grey Worm, she was on a ship with well-meaning, trusted advisors all hell-bent on thwarting her hard-fought, long overdue happiness. Dany had conceded to them at every turn before but no more, she intended to have her way.

After settling in, the small cadre of passengers had shared a lavish dinner of juicy roasted pork in red wine sauce, buttered mushrooms and caramelized sweet onions, fresh bread stuffed with warm cheese and date spread, ripe fireplums and apricots soaked in honey wine and mint. Bottomless flagons of sour Dornish red and bitter dark ale. A wondrous display of overt extravagance, Dany had known, just one more night of distraction, we all needed it, although none could escape the inevitability that awaited them in the North.

And inevitability was very much on her mind tonight. Although Dany played gracious Queen for her table of companions, she had found her mind wandering, unable to concentrate much on the meal at hand, trying hard not to be painfully aware of Jon sitting directly opposite her. The heated memory of yesterday in the stone garden was still fresh in her thoughts, as one glance across the table reminded her. Whenever she had looked up during the evening, Jon was there, the desire in his eyes undeniable as he rested casually against his chair back. His blatant disregard for keeping up appearances at dinner had unnerved her, but she inwardly admired his boldness and honesty. He wanted her, he didn't care who knew it.

Dany had pleaded fatigue soon after all lemon cakes were eaten. She rose from the table to take her leave, watching Jon watch her go, a smirk creeping up his handsome face, leaning back on the carved chair with ease, an eyebrow curled with a hint of arrogance. Dany felt her stomach flutter as she returned his mischievous smile with her own, leaving the men to their continued talk of politics and strategy. Late was the hour when voices had finally quieted and tired bodies returned to their respective cabins, bellies full of wine and good spirits. Soon, the groan of the ship was the only sound heard as Dany relished the quiet of night once again.