Nobody Knows || Closed

Ayleth felt her heart hammering in her chest as she stared up at Khal Drogo, chest rising and falling hard as she waited for whatever would happen next. Her stomach was still flipping anxiously, as if they hadn’t already performed this dance before. Maybe it was because lying beneath him was one of the few times in her life where she didn’t feel like she was completely in control. The thought of him taking advantage of that frightened her a bit, even though she knew if he ever crossed her badly enough, she could easily set him straight or prove just how cross with him.

When he dropped to his knees and grabbed her ankle to pull her toward him with little struggle, she stared fearlessly up at him, lips still pulled up into a coy little grin. Something about the way he was handling her and the way he was looking at her lit something in her that no man had ever done. Men before him had looked at her like an object, like she was some trinket to sit on a shelf and look but. Perhaps she was imagining it, but he seemed to be gazing at her like she had true worth. As his hands grasped at her hips, she could guess where this was going next.

A gasp left her as he flipped her over, lifting her face from the furs a bit. Ayleth let out a soft moan as he pressed against her, expecting him to not waste any time and press inside. Instead, when he paused, her brow furrowed a bit as she tried to figure out what he was doing. She almost wanted to turn her head to look at him, to try and read into what he was thinking. Before she could even turn her head, he was pressing his back against her and she drew in a slow, regulated breath of air. Her back arched instinctively as his hand met her breast, causing just enough friction between the two of them that another soft noise left her. The anticipation was slowly driving her nuts.

Ayleth’s eyes slipped shut when he spoke, swallowing hard at the rush of warmth that coursed through her even before his mouth met her skin. An audible sigh left her as his teeth met her skin, hips rocking back against his on their own to try and find any sort of friction she could. What little was there still wasn’t enough for her. Though she found the language very attractive and she could listen to him talk all day, now was not the time for talking. She was tempted to snatch control back from him, to flip them over and to show him how impatient she was. Instead, she remained still, turning her head just enough to shoot him a look from the corner of her eye.

“No,” she said in a soft voice. She had already been coiled tightly as it was and now this anticipation was nearly killing her.

---

Jon couldn’t help but to smile at himself at the reaction his trying to wake Anaris up garnered. Granted, there was a slight tinge of sadness that came with it, knowing that she must have been wandering for a long time if she was taking this long to wake up. This could have been incredibly awkward, but if anything, he found it sort of endearing, even if she wasn’t completely aware of where she was. “As much as I’d like to let you sleep, we’ve got to get moving,” he said softly, grinning down at her.

The grin quickly dropped when he felt her tense against his side, brows lifted slightly as he waited for what her reaction was going to be. When she pulled away from him, he kept his gaze on her, nervous that he’d done something wrong by the way she was reacting. “No, I understand,” he told her, shaking his head slowly as he watched her, “I didn’t mind at all.” He offered her a small grin, glad that she wasn’t freaking out in his general direction. Without saying much, he plucked the shearling collar from his shoulder and seated it on Anaris’ shoulders instead. He pulled his lips between his teeth for a moment as he cleared his throat and slowly got to his feet.

A soft groan left him at just how stiff he felt after sleeping in the same position all night. Pausing a moment, he drew in a deep breath of air and let his gaze wander over the surrounding area, just to be sure they weren’t being watched or followed. He kicked a bit of snow over the ashes, just to be sure nothing was left smoldering and that nothing would catch after they left the area. That would be a surefire way they’d leave behind hints that they’d been there. He glanced over to Anaris as she reached out to Ghost, giving him a bit of attention. Jon grinned slightly as he watched her for a moment before turning away, grinning to himself.

As she spoke again, his eyes slipped over to her and he shook his head a bit. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he told her softly, offering her another smile. He held her gaze as she looked at him, letting out a quiet laugh as she continued on. “And risk the both of us dying of the cold? Not a chance,” he replied, eyes locked on hers for a moment before he cleared his throat again and glanced around again. “Like I’ve said. I didn’t mind. We can’t control what we do when we’re sleeping,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yes, we should,” he told her softly, offering her a hand to help her to her feet. He was sure to get some comment about his chivalry, but he still very much had the mindset that women deserved to be treated with respect. He wasn’t doing anything different than anything else he’d ever been taught and no amount of smart-mouthing from her could change his ways.

Khal Drogo let out a throaty laugh at her single word, merely squeezing her breast harder and biting at her shoulder in response. He would take her when he chose, not when she did. It was getting harder, though. Her back had arched against him when he’d touched her. Sighs had left her when he’d based her. She was even rocking her hips against his, and that felt especially good. His hand - the one not on her breast - drifted down her side, slipping towards her stomach and downwards from there. Once he got far enough, however, he pressed his hips into her once more and accidentally rubbed himself against her.

That was the line for him. He’d been so focused on getting her to the edge, to tease her into submission, that he’d practically forgotten about his own arousal. He hadn’t realized just how hard he’d gotten until he was rubbing against her thigh, letting out a low, involuntary groan. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as his hand left her breast, both of them moving back to their former position of holding her hips to him.

He thrust into her, letting out a low groan, although it was louder than before. It felt like his brain was stopping and starting, having trouble putting things together beyond Ayleth and how good she felt. He pulled away only to thrust harder, deeper this time. All he knew in that moment was that he wanted to take her over and over and over again, not stopping for rest or food or water. If they were attacked in that very moment, there was a good chance that he wouldn’t even care. All he cared about was taking her then and there, fucking away the touch of the man that she’d fell earlier.

“Khaleesi,” he breathed out, thrusting again into her. His fingers were digging into her skin, sure to leave marks. He liked that idea, that the proof of his touch would mark her pale skin. That there would be marks littering her that did not come from battle, but from him. He placed his mouth against her back, kissing and sucking at the skin as he thrust in and out, his breathing quickening. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was having to focus on not finishing so soon. Maybe it was because they’d started this dance hours ago in that tent, and he’d been keyed up all day. Or maybe it was something else, something about her that was driving him out of his mind.

---

Anaris couldn’t remember the last time that she’d woken up and almost instantly had her heart pounding. But she couldn’t help it, her traitorous heart doing double time at the sight of Jon Snow grinning at her and telling her that he didn’t mind her sleeping on him. “I - oh, okay,” she said, finding it hard to look at him. Her cheeks were flushing, she could practically feel it. And at that moment, she wouldn’t be able to blame it on a fire or the wind. No, everything was cool and quiet, the snow having stopped falling sometime throughout the night. She looked back up to him, letting out a noise of protest as he settled the collar over her shoulders. “Really, Jon?”

Her gaze followed him as he stood up, the groan that left his lips making her feel warm all over. She wondered if he sounded like that doing other things. She dropped her gaze to her lap, eyes wide at the thought. She must be more exhausted than she’d thought if that’s what she’d been thinking. The poor man had been nothing but kind to her, offering her his collar and not complaining when she’d accidentally fallen asleep on him. And she’d repaid him by thinking about him like that. She silently berated herself, even though her stomach dropped once more as she stole another look at him.

She just shook her head at him, finding it hard to come up with anything else to say to that. She could argue and argue and argue with him, but he’d still be so bleeding stubborn about it. And, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to push him far enough that he’d say to not do it again. It had been nice to have someone around that she’d felt safe with - safe enough that she’d slept deeply for the first time in ages. Even when she’d been home, she hadn’t slept that deep.

“Do you know which way we’re going?” Anaris asked, eyeing his hand carefully. He was doing it to be chivalrous. That was it. She reached out, her hand wrapping around his as she got to her feet. She offered him a small smile of thanks just as she realized that she’d been holding onto his hand for a second too long. She let go of it, hers dropping to her side. “You know, you could take your collar back now. It’s not so cold anymore.” She gave him a pointed look, although she didn’t make any moves to take it off.

She stepped over to the branch where she’d hung her pack the night before, tugging it off and opening it up to look for that loaf of bread that was left. She tore off two pieces before sliding the strap over her head. Holding out a piece towards him, she stepped back to where she’d been. “It’d be more chivalrous of you to take it and make me happy than reject it for fear of whatever it is you’re thinking.” She paused. “Actually, it’d offend me if you didn’t take it.”

The laugh that the Khal let out sent Ayleth’s impatience soaring, though it was quickly assuaged a bit when he grasped her breast more firmly and bit her shoulder. She drew in a shuddering breath of air, eyeing him over her shoulder for a few moments before her gaze slipped back to the furs beneath her. As his hand slipped down her side, her body arching away from it as a fine tremble started up in her stomach. His hand felt like flames licking against already scorching skin and another sigh left her at the feel of it. As he pressed his hips against hers, she rolled her hips back against his, a soft whimper of a noise at the feel of him rubbing against her, but not exactly giving her what she wanted.

Her chest was heaving in air, her hands were clenching the furs tightly, and she felt like a snake coiled tightly and ready to strike out. The feel of his hands on her, his front pressed against her back, and the occasional jab of his length against her thigh. As much as she wanted him to take control, if he thought she would stand this teasing much longer, he was sorely mistaken. The groan he’d let out had the hair at the back of her neck standing on end. When his hands found their hold on her hips again, her stomach flipped anxiously.

When he finally pressed into her, Ayleth let out a soft moan, back arching instinctively as she rested her head on one of her forearms, the fingertips of that hand clawing desperately into the furs. A shaky breath of air left her as he moved again, repeating the action of rocking her hips back against his and she figured she must have done something right because a moan flew from her before she could stop it. Her other hand slipped behind her, hand slipping down his bicep, blunt fingernails dragging down his skin until her hand rested just on top of his. Her fingers slipped over top of his, clamping his hand down tighter on her hip.

A breathless sort of noise left her as he said the regal name she’d given to herself in an attempt to save herself. Though, she couldn’t help but think someone like her was deserving of that title. She’d started to rock her hips back with every thrust of his hips forward, creating a divine sort of friction that left her breathless. She drew in another shuddering breath of air at the feel of his lips at her back, gripping his hand even tighter against her skin.

---

Jon knew that she was going to take issue with him returning the collar back to her completely and the noise she let out in disagreement was more than enough for him to grin to himself. He shot her a look as she spoke to him, lips curled up into a cheeky grin. He glanced over to Ghost, who was watching him with those bright red eyes. Jon halfway wanted to tell his companion to go hunt for himself, but he figured they'd stop around midday to take a little rest before they continued forward.

The sky was steadily lightening around them and he was quite thankful that he could get the sleep that he did. He felt a bit more refreshed and ready to face what they would encounter on their journey to find where ever Robb was. When she questioned him, he nodded, heart jumping a bit as her hand met his. He grasped it tightly as he helped her to her feet, realizing that he’d been grasping it for a few moments too long before dropping his hand to the side at nearly the same time she did. “The Kings Road goes along there,” he said, pointing to a stretch of trees just to the right of the two of them. “If we keep it to our right, we should keep heading South,” he added with a nod before he turned his gaze back to Anaris.

“All the more reason for you to keep it,” he retorted stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest as he grinned over to her. “I’m honestly not that cold right now and I’d prefer you’d keep it in case the winds pick up.” To prove his point, he reached over and tugged the collar a bit more securely around her neck. He grinned down down at her cheekily before pulling away. He took her lead and walked over to the bag he’d hung up on a branch beside hers and looped it over his shoulder.

He glanced over to her as she extended a piece of bread to him, brows lifting slightly as he listened to her speak. Jon’s features remained stolid for a few moments before they broke out into another wide grin. “Well…the last thing I’d want to do would be to offend you, my lady,” he jested, dark eyes twinkling as he took the bread from her with a thankful bow of his head. Even though he’d just eaten the night before, he was still rather peckish and was glad to have just a little bit of food to last him through the day.

Jon barely got into the second bite of the bread when the sound of something cracking echoed behind him. He spun wildly, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword and the other clutching onto his bread tightly. His chest had tightened up in fear, but it only lasted for a moment as he watched the bough of a tree overladen with snow snap and send a rush of snow to the ground with a hollow thud. He let out a shaky breath of air and turned back to Anaris, eyes slightly wide and heart up in his throat. “I guess that’ll be something we’ll have to be wary of since it looks like it snowed a decent amount last night,” he murmured, voice trembling slightly.

The khal couldn’t remember a time when a whore had placed her hands on his as he thrusted into her. Most of the time, they would cling to the hides, barely interacting with him at all. But Ayleth was different. He chastised himself for being surprised with that. She’d taken him off guard at every single twist and turn. At that point, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d actually spoken perfect Dothraki. He let out a groan as her nails dragged down his bicep, enjoying the way that it felt. In response to her fingers on top of his, he gave her hips a squeeze, timing it with a thrust.

He smirked to himself when she reacted to being called a khaleesi. He knew what it was like, to have someone moan out your title while you were fucking them. Even if it was a whore doing it, it still filled him with a sort of pride that he couldn’t get anywhere else. She’d started to rock her hips against his, eliciting another moan from him. That time was louder, filled with gravel and desperation. He felt as though he wasn’t going to last long. Which he knew was attributed to them having started this hours ago, but it still stung just a bit. His thrusts got rougher, hips moving faster against hers.

It took one, two, then three thrusts before he was groaning out, spilling into her as he continued to move - albeit now, a bit more sloppy. “Mine,” he murmured, pressing another hot kiss to her shoulder. He wondered what it would be like to have continued when she’d kissed him on the mouth. It hadn’t been something that he’d regretted. In fact, he’d enjoyed the way that she’d bit his lip and pulled. But kissing like that was not done with his people.

Then again, Drogo was the khal. He could do whatever he chose to do.

He let his hands remain at her waist, waiting a moment before slowly pulling out of her. Most of the time, he would just get up and expect the woman to leave, but this was different. Ayleth had demanded his respect in battle, and in return, he respected her in his tent as well. He knew that it was possible for women to finish like he had, to feel as he had at the end. But he wasn’t sure how to ask. His thumbs pressed gently into her skin, a prickle of irritation once more at their lack of ability to communicate. “Yes?” He questioned in her tongue, hoping that she’d understand what he was truly asking.

---

There was something about his grin that made Anaris feel speechless. How was she to argue with the man when his grin lit up an entire forest? With a grin like that, Westeros wouldn’t need any more torches. No, he’d be able to light the land all by himself. She was thankful when he looked to Ghost, thankful that he wasn’t seeing the way her cheeks flushed at her thoughts. It was almost embarrassing, how much she was starting to like his grin.

“How long do you think it will be before we meet up with your brother?” She was avoiding using his name. She couldn’t decide if she was supposed to call him Lord Robb, or just Robb. Which would he prefer? To her, he was Jon. But to everyone else, he was Jon Snow - bastard son of Lord Eddard. Was she supposed to call him Lord Jon around others? She couldn’t remember, and she felt like asking him would make things even more uncomfortable. Her gaze shifted to where he was pointing. So she hadn’t been far from the road when she’d been wandering on her own.

Her mouth settled into a frown as he crossed his arms, his grin starting to infuriate her. “I don’t need to be protected from the winds, you know,” she said, her heart stuttering when he tugged the collar around her neck. He was close, grinning down at her and it was making her insides twist and turn. Gods, she hoped that this would end. It was futile. They were stuck with each other in the woods. Jon was probably only looking at her as a woman in need of protection, nothing more. “The winds don’t bother me at all,” she continued. It was a lie, but she wanted to prove that she was just fine without the collar.

Anaris had heard her friends talk about how it felt to like someone, the way your stomach dipped when you saw them, or how it felt when they flirted and teased you. She’d never really felt that, though. Sure, there had been fleeting crushes, coming and going throughout her youth, but none that had made her feel special, or different. But when he said my lady, her stomach dipped and she rolled her eyes in retaliation. “Would you take the collar back if I said it was offending me?” She asked, a smirk playing up at the corners of her mouth to hide the way her nerves were rebelling against her.

She was biting into the bread, stealing a glance towards Ghost when the crack sounded. In an instant, she jumped towards him, her heart pounding wildly in her ears. This was it. It was the Night’s Watch, coming to take him back. Or it was White Walkers, having somehow breached the Wall and ready to kill them. She skidded to a stop as she watched the tree drop, taking a quick step back so she wasn’t so close to him. She blinked up at him, nodding slowly as she swallowed the bread that now felt dry. “Right,” she said softly, suddenly not hungry anymore. “We should get going, then. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get to a place with no bleeding snow.”

Ayleth was gripping the furs in front of her and the khal’s fingers like they were the only thing keeping her grounded. It was to be expected that this was unlike anything she’d ever experienced because it was her first time experiencing it. That didn’t necessarily mean it was a bad experience. No, on the contrary, this was probably the farthest thing from the horror stories she’d heard of other women’s first time being bedded by a man. This was like sparring in it of itself; the opponents were not trying to maim or kill, but merely trying to show their prowess and best the other. At that realization, Ayleth felt severely undertrained for the situation. Perhaps if the khal kept her around long enough, she’d be able to best him eventually.

The next moan he let out sent the embers that were sparking in her lower stomach aflame and, for what little experience she had, she knew what lay in store for her as long as nothing changed. It surprised her how quickly she’d been brought to it, but maybe it was the fact they’d been teasing each other with the thought of it ending like this. Then the hours spent in between said teasing surely didn’t help anything. Finally, there was some sort of sick pleasure that Ayleth got in disabling a man, whether it was merely disarming him or something like she’d done with the Dothraki man that thought she’d chosen him instead of the khal.

It only took a few more thrusts from his hips and she barreled headfirst into an orgasm that left her crying out, hands gripping what she could with near bone-breaking strength as her body arched slightly. It gripped her for a few moments before it left in waves, another soft moan leaving her as her body trembled beneath him. She was vaguely aware that his thrusts had gone a bit rhythmless and he was murmuring something before pressing his mouth to her skin once more. A quiet sigh left her as he pulled out, knowing now why this became an addiction to some. They’d only just finished and she was already craving the contact once more.

Resting her forehead fulling against the furs, she took a few moments to catch her breath, skin burning as his thumbs worked against what would surely be bruises in the morning from how tightly he had gripped her. Ayleth liked the thought of that; a memento from a battle well fought. At the single word that left him, she turned over underneath him without bumping into him too much, hands gently finding his forearms as she looked up at him with hazy amethyst eyes and a crooked grin. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking, but a part of her thought she’d probably agree to anything her proposed at this point. Chest still rising and falling rapidly, she lifted her hand to gently cup his jaw, thumb gently swooping across his skin as her eyes darted between his.

“Yes,” she replied in Dothraki before offering a rare, genuine smile to him.

---

Jon carded a gloved hand through his curls, expression growing thoughtful at her question and his eyes raked over where he’d pointed out they would follow the King’s Road. He was quiet for a while. “It’s tough to say, traveling like this,” he murmured honestly, shooting her a look. “Maybe a few weeks, a little over a month,” he offered with a slight shrug of his shoulders and shake of his head. He honestly hoped that they’d find Robb sooner rather than later. He found himself wondering what would happen within the time they would spend together. Jon already felt some sort of attachment to Anaris, one was bound to form an attachment after the circumstances with with they met, but he was wondering how much this…slight anxiousness he felt around her would last.

Once again, he was pulled from his thoughts by her protests of that damned shearling collar and he was grinning once more and shaking his head gently at her. Then, as if to prove a point, a breeze whipped past the two of them that had Jon’s cheeks tingling from the cold and him shrugging a bit deeper into his cloak for a moment. “See, you need it,” he told her knowingly before adding, even more jokingly than before, “Besides, I think Ghost would judge me for leaving you without some extra form of warmth.” He cracked a crooked grin over in her direction before glancing over to Ghost who was looking up expectantly at him at the sound of his name.

A yawn left him before he could stop it and he found himself blinking away the edges of sleep once more. He scratched at the back of his neck, not remembering a time where it took so long for him to rouse himself from sleep. He supposed that this was the first time in a long time where he wasn’t being coaxed roughly from slumber by some member of the Night’s Watch or someone in the Stark household. With that thought, he sighed a bit, missing the warm halls of Winterfell more than anything in this moment. Though, the melancholy was short-lived as Anaris was jesting with him once more. Something about the way she was looking at him made him more anxious than ever and he found himself ducking his head a bit in reply.

Jon praised what quick wits he had in that moment though, because he quickly raised his head and replied smartly, “I’m not sure what the collar has ever done to offend you. Surely it kept you warm enough through the night.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders again.

It seemed that Ghost was unfazed completely by the bough breaking, as if he knew it was going to happen all along and it calmed Jon a bit. His companion seemed to have a sense for danger, so he found he’d probably have to rely on him a lot to know when to raise an alarm or draw his sword. “Right,” he replied to Anaris. “C’mon then,” he said, nodding his head in the direction they would be going and slowly beginning his march through the snow. Ghost stayed behind for a moment, blood red eyes lingering on Anaris for a beat or two before he turned and followed after Jon, gliding over the snow where it seemed Jon had to plan each step carefully. He wanted to turn to Anaris, to try and strike up a conversation to try and get their minds off of the day’s journey, but his mind was coming up blank. His mind rested on the lessons on sword-fighting he was to give her once they stopped for the night and he figured that was as good a topic as any.

“Have you ever sparred before? With wooden swords?” He questioned, glancing over his shoulder to her before he took another bite of bread.

The sun was beating down against the great plains, the heat laying as a blanket across the skin. Khal Drogo strode through the camp, focused solely on getting to his bloodriders. They were expecting visitors, men from the Free Cities looking to discuss something or another. He hadn’t paid that much attention to the yammering, more focused on the fact that they were from the land of Westeros, and he was concerned about the possibility of them knowing Ayleth.

He’d yet to fully examine his thoughts and feelings towards the woman, much preferring to bed her and increase her knowledge of the Dothraki language. He knew that he respected her, and lusted after her, but beyond that, he wouldn’t allow himself to dig deeper into that territory. He knew that he was expected to choose a khaleesi soon, and at the moment, none other than Ayleth fit his criteria. He approached Haggo, motioning for the man to approach him.

“I need you to have one of the slaves keep Ayleth busy when the men arrive,” he ordered, ignoring the way Haggo’s expression flickered ever so slightly. The man had never lost the grudge against the woman. Drogo knew that Haggo respected her immensely, after having seen how she could fight, but the grudge would remain. He’d been favoring his calve ever since the day that they’d come across her.

“Anything else?” Haggo questioned, looking about. Drogo thought for a moment longer, frowning.

“I’ll inform her myself. Just don’t let her best you. She stays away.” His tone was final. He needed to keep the peace between his people and the men that were coming, but he had no doubts that if they tried anything, tried to take her away… Drogo would slaughter every last one of them, damned the consequences. He turned and started off towards the part of camp that he remembered seeing her in last. It didn’t take him long to find her. For various reasons, most of the children in the camp had taken to following her around. Most never approaching her, but always trailing after her. He approached the woman, his gaze slipping over her form appreciatively.

“You won’t be meeting the visitors today,” he said, keeping his words short. He still wasn’t sure just how much Dothraki she knew, but he trusted that she’d understand most - if not all - of what he was saying. For this conversation, he wouldn’t hesitate to get one of the whores that spoke both his language and the common tongue to translate. He fixed his gaze on her, pointed and almost frowning. “One of the slaves will keep you company.”

---

It had been at least three weeks since Anaris had last been in Winterfell. She wasn’t quite sure of just how long, since it felt like the days had started to bleed together. Not that that was a bad thing by any means, but after a certain amount of time, she’d stopped really trying to keep track. If she thought about it too long, her chest would ache and she’d end up in a foul mood, and Jon didn’t deserve that at all. She stole a glance towards him as she leaned against the tree, digging in her pack for her wineskin. They’d managed to refill their wineskins with water a day or so ago, and she was taking advantage of the extra liquid.

She’d thought that her nerves would fade the longer she was with him. And to a certain extent, they had. She could go for awhile without feeling nervous. Her cheeks wouldn’t flush no matter what he said. But then he’d say something or look at her a certain way and her stomach would dip and she’d be on edge for the rest of the day. It was awful. It hadn’t helped that her muscles ached almost constantly now, what with all the walking and him teaching her how to fight. She wasn’t the best, but she was learning how to hold her own.

“It looks like there might be a village not too far off,” she mused, nodding her head towards a spot in the trees. It was hard for her spot, but the wind would occasionally blow and the branches would shift just enough for what appeared to be little homes, peeking through the leaves. “Did you want to risk it?” She still wasn’t sure who they could trust by that point. They hadn’t come across many people, but the people they had come across - well, she’d been suspicious of them all. Then again, at that very moment, the only person she trusted was Jon Snow.

They’d gotten far enough South that it felt as though they could come across his brother any day. The thought made her chest ache. She knew that this is what they’d been walking towards. It’s what they’d trudged through snow and high winds for, for Jon to find his brother and pledge to fight in the war. She’d yet to ask him what would happen with her once they reached the army. She hadn’t dared to bring it up, almost afraid of what he would say. She’d grown attached to the man, and the thought of them parting ways made her throat grow thick. She ducked her gaze, taking a long sip of water from the wineskin that she’d finally grabbed, and focused on Ghost.

“There might be an inn,” Anaris added, in an almost sing-song tone. There was a good chance that it could be risky, but she’d give just about anything for a fire and a bed. She shoved the thoughts of having to share said bed with Jon away, repeating to herself that they’d been sleeping next to each other since day one, and nothing had happened. It was obvious that he didn’t think of her that way. There had been moments where she’d almost thought the opposite, but then they’d disappear as fast as they’d come. She looked over to him and grinned. “Ghost needs some time out of the woods. The poor thing is dying for a bed.”

Ayleth felt like she was gradually acclimating herself to living with the Dothraki people. She’d taken to the language quickly, but as with anything, the range of vocabulary came with time. A few slaves and whores that spoke both the common tongue and Dothraki had helped teach her and she now could hold somewhat of a conversation with the Dothraki people and with Khal Drogo. She had their respect, undoubtedly now, incapacitating a few men who dared to try and touch her without permission. She’d only killed one of them, which was pretty decent for how angry the rest had made her. While she knew that the Dothraki answered to skill and force, she didn’t want to be feared either—not to the point where she was unapproachable.

As for Khal Drogo, the man baffled her at times, though she supposed it was normal for a ruler. Behind the privacy of his tent, he seemed like a different person than the man he presented to the masses under his rule. She understood it, but there were times were he proved so stubborn that she wished she was fluent in Dothraki she could let him know exactly how much that infuriated her. Instead, most of the time she was cross with him, she would level him with a dark stare. Though, she found herself feeling more and more attached to him and still believing that he was unlike any other man she'd ever met. He had an inexplicable way of drawing her in and holding her a willing captive.

They still hadn’t allowed her blades, which had her feeling more naked than the Dothraki garb she had taken to wearing. Gone were the flowing gowns of delicate fabric. Instead, she now wore a roughly woven top of a smattering of dark brown fabrics and leather. It left her arms and back exposed, tying around the back of her neck and dipping low to the bottom of her sternum. Her toned midsection was exposed and she found that the amount of skin she exposed made the overbearing sun somewhat bearable. She wore a shin length skirt of two hides sewn together that sat low on her hips, a slit high up on one thigh. It wasn’t what she was used to wearing, but the khal seemed to prefer to look of it on her. At least she had a pair of somewhat familiar feeling boots that she'd hidden a dagger or two in.

She had just finished strolling through the tents on her own, dark hair braided and resting over one pale shoulder. A group of children had followed behind her and the constant attention from them made her feel slightly homesick. She had younger siblings of her own and the children that gravitated to her only seemed to bring up emotions she didn’t know she had. Eventually, she stopped to rest on the outskirts of the camp, sitting down on a large rock. One of the few little girls that were brave enough to actually talk to her immediately plopped herself onto Ayleth’s lap and the woman took to plaiting the girls curly hair in a fashion similar to her own as the two talked of silly things.

When she saw the khal approaching, she shooed the girl away gently with a small smile, knowing by the look on the khal’s face that he was not in the mood for a lighthearted conversation. Ayleth stood and drew herself up to her full height as he stopped in front of her, leveling him with an unwavering gaze. As he spoke, she was suddenly reminded of the way her father had wanted her; out of sight when it came down to “men talking” and just some pretty thing to look at and not be heard in front of suitors for her hand. “Why not?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side as she spoke. “What if I don’t want a slave’s company today?” She continued, feeling like a petulant child. "If these men speak the common tongue, I may be able to speak with them," she added poignantly, hard gaze boring into his. Khal Drogo was lucky she was not showing him the irritation she felt coiling in the pit of her stomach.

---

Jon hadn’t slept as well the first night he’d met Anaris in a long time. The more they got to know each other, the more he felt some sort of attachment forming, and the greater that attachment(and attraction, though he constantly tried to tell himself she probably would never feel the same), the more worried he got that he wouldn’t be ready to protect Anaris when the time came for it. She was a hopeful student, but no where near ready to defend herself without his aide. He was sure this lack of sleep showed, but if it did, Anaris was kind enough to not point it out to him.

He stood off to the side of the tree she was backed up against, thankful that the day at least felt a little bit warmer and the snow seemed to coat the ground in thinner layers of snow the further South they travelled until it seemed like there was just a dusting left. Or at least he hoped the were still traveling South. It was so tempting for him to just tell Anaris that he needed just a single day of rest before they started on their way again. His body ached from the cold and constant walking and he felt more and more dull with each passing day.

When she spoke, his gaze swept over to her before he glanced over to the place where she had mentioned the village. Part of him knew they should use caution in attempting to settle down somewhere for just a night, not knowing who were allied with Joffrey and who allied with Robb. They were still in the North, so part of him wanted to believe that the Houses that once supported House Stark would follow Robb in his endeavor as the King of the North. When she questioned him, he turned to look at her. “It may be worth it,” he told her, pushing his hair back from his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed, not to mention the last time he’d shaved his face. “I honestly don’t know how much longer I can go like we have,” he said, knowing in that moment he sounded as tired as he was.

He kept his gaze on her for a few lingering moments. Jon knew that she had to be just as tired as she was, if not more-so. She’s the one who had been training where he was just keeping himself in good practice when they sparred. He couldn't help but feel that she deserved better than this, knowing what he knew of her now. A woman like Anaris, in Jon’s opinion, deserved the world. More often than not, he found himself wanting to be the one that gave it to her. Jon knew thinking like that could potentially cause him trouble, especially if she didn’t feel the same way. He looked away for a moment, drawing in a deep breath of air as he contemplated everything the could go wrong if they ventured into one of the first villages they had stumbled across.

At the mention of an inn, his eyes slipped shut for a moment and he ran a hand over his face. An inn sounded like a wonderful idea to him. A place to get off of his feet for a while and sit on something other than the nearest rock, fallen tree trunk, or forest ground. Drawing in a deep breath of air, he pulled his eyes and looked over at her. “We’ll give it a try. If anything seems off or it’s clear they support Joffrey, we’re just passing through,” he said, leveling his gaze on hers. He let out a breath of air, eyes slipping between hers. “We’re going to need to stay in the same room at the inn. If not to save what little gold I have, I…I’d rather not trust you in a room all alone if certain men heard about you,” he continued, hoping she would catch onto what he was insinuating.

“What do you think is more believable in case we’re asked: that we’re siblings or that we’re married?” He asked, stomach twisting nervously at the mere thought. He mentally chastised himself for getting so anxious over it, hoping Anaris couldn’t read his expression.

Drogo stared at her blankly. It was still frustrating to have her speak to him like this in front of his people. However, he knew that most of the men and women paid them no mind. It was mostly out of respect for the two of them. Ayleth had earned their respect with ease, which was almost unheard of with his people. Aside from slaves and whores, outsiders were rare. For an outsider to live among them mostly free was something that had never truly happened before. It made him proud to know that she was the recipient of such an honor.

“Because I’m telling you to,” he said, allowing his annoyance to seep into his words. This was another thing that was new to him; having someone question him. He’d been so used to others immediately doing as he said that the first time she’d done it, it had made him stop cold in his tracks. Had they been in the privacy of his tent, he would have shown her precisely who was in charge, but he couldn’t do that there. “Then spend your time with a whore,” he suggested, the corners of his lips quirking up just barely. At times, he liked to annoy her.

He stared down at her, going over his options silently. “I don’t want you speaking with them.” He knew that that wasn’t going to be enough for her. He had a feeling that none had been able to silence Ayleth in the past, and he was not going to be the first. He could, however, reason with her, and hope that she’d understand where he was coming from. “You are a khaleesi from where you are from,” he began, pausing. They’d yet to fully discuss where she’d come from, or why she’d left. He hadn’t broached the subject of her staying, either. He wasn’t sure how much she would take to being forced to stay there, should she try to leave. “The men may recognize you, and I don’t want to shed any blood today.”

Cohollo had told him earlier that the men were looking to build a treaty of some kind. The mention of a khaleesi had happened, but Drogo hadn’t been paying that much attention. It happened often enough, though, that he could figure out what would happen. A woman would be offered at some point to promote the joining of his khalasar to whatever army was under the men. He’d yet to agree to any. Before, the men hadn’t been fierce and the women unworthy. But, with the woman standing before him, he was finding another reason to say no.

“Besides,” he started, allowing the barest hint of amusement into his gaze. “From what I understand, the men will offer me a khaleesi. I’m sure you would not want to witness that.” He’d yet to see her jealous, and it was something he was curious about. He’d seen her angry, cocky, lustful, happy, but jealousy was something that had remained out of his reach.

---

Anaris fixed her gaze on Jon, frowning up at him. The man was stubborn. Not only was she still in possession of the shearling collar, but Jon Snow refused to tell her when he was feeling poorly - even though she could see it clear as day upon his face. He hadn’t been sleeping as well for some reason. “Jon,” she began, her voice soft even though she was frowning at him. “You know that we’re allowed to take a break from walking, right? We can rest for a day or so.” She spoke with a gentle tone, although she was ready to dig her heels in if necessary. The man needed to sleep in a bed. He needed a good night’s rest, and a decent meal. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed to go on for so long.

Her stomach flipped under his gaze, and she took another sip from her wineskin. She resolved that they were going to stay in the inn no matter what he said, if there was one. Even if they were in clear support of Joffrey, she didn’t care. Not everyone knew what the bastard son of Lord Stark looked like. And if it meant getting Jon some rest, she’d sing praises to that brat Joffrey. Somewhere along the way, she’d become concerned for his wellbeing, possibly beyond that of a friend. It had been bound to happen, with them being the only real company the other had.

“Fine, fine,” she grumbled. She knew that when he put his mind to something, he wouldn’t let up. But she also knew that if she really wanted to, she could get him to give in. And they were staying in bleeding inn whether he wanted to or not. She just prayed to the Gods that there actually was one. “What? Haven’t I been doing well in my training?” She asked him, a lightness in her voice. She knew full well that she was nowhere near being able to defend herself against a man hellbent on doing… whatever to her. She could take out a child, probably, but that was it. The bruise on her back from where she’d slipped during their sparring the night before reminded her of that.

“Married.” The words flew out of her mouth faster than she’d meant to. She pressed her lips into a thin line, hoping that her cheeks weren’t blushing. She wasn’t sure, though. All she knew was that there was no way they were going to pretend to be siblings. Her stomach was doing flips as she realized just what that would mean. If asked, it meant that they’d have to act like they were married. How did married people act? “We don’t look enough like to be siblings,” she added in haste, hoping that it would cover up her nerves. And then, it hit her. They’d have to share a bed in the inn. And that was much more different than sleeping beside each other against a tree.

“Also, Jon?” She tucked her wineskin back in her bag before giving him a pointed look. “Don’t bother trying to argue with me about who gets the bed. I know you haven’t been sleeping, and you look terrible. You’re sleeping in the bed.”

Ayleth had resigned to the fact that she would have to regard Khal Drogo differently in front of the khalasar than when they were in his tent, but she would not bow out from voicing her opinions to him if she felt strongly against him. In fact, it was quite a enjoyable pastime of hers to see how annoyed she could get him with her questioning attitude. It hadn’t gotten her in trouble yet, so she assumed there was a part of him that enjoyed the banter, even in front of his people. She kept her expression stolid at his initial, simple reply to her question and she drew in a deep breath of air through her nose as she crossed her arms over her chest and kept her unfaltering gaze on his. She knew she would not like the way this conversation was going and something about the feeling that settled around the camp filled her with a slight sense of unease. Drogo’s commands hadn’t done much to help her. At his next comment, her brows lifted slightly, emotionless expression unerring as ever otherwise. “If I am to entertain the idea of doing what you say, I will seek company with whomever I choose,” she retorted smartly, leveling her chin proudly.

The warrior woman had the hardest time keeping the anger she felt bubbling within her under control, but she still managed to do it when he said she didn’t want her to speak to the visitors. Instead of a rebuttal, she merely remained quiet, gaze hardening slightly as her posture grew a bit tighter and tensed. Though, when he spoke again, she felt herself relaxing once more as her mind worked quickly to figure out where he was going with this. The visitors were here to speak with the khal on matters of politics. If they were to recognize her and think she was a captive or slave, it could put a damper on their talks and direct the focus to her instead. With a heavy sigh, she said in a quiet tone, “I understand.” Though the bull-headed side of her was screaming at her for giving in, she did not want to be the cause for any discord between the khal and the visitors.

She was just about to walk away and become as scarce as possible, but he started speaking again and her gaze narrowed at the look in his eyes. Ayleth knew she would definitely not like what was about to come out of his mouth. At the mention of these visitors offering the khal a woman to be a khaleesi, she froze. The anger she felt earlier had come back as a fully fledged rage and she felt something dark twisting within her at the thought of the khal with another woman. However, the only indications on her features of this rage were an almost imperceptible pursing of her full lips and flare of her nostrils.

“If they have brought her with them to present to you, do not expect me to stay hidden, thought I will remain quiet, for your sake” she started, voice even and untelling. Ayleth then stepped forward, pressing her lithe, toned frame fully against his and wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. Her strong fingertips gripped his neck tightly, blunt fingernails and fingertips digging into the skin as she held him close. She could feel tension suddenly ripple through the small crowd around them like a wave, uncertain of what was going on between the khal and this foreign woman. The woman pressed her cheek against his, staring blankly forward as she spoke in a voice that was quiet, yet dark, knowing only he would hear, “Just know that if I get a whisper that you intend on even considering her as your khaleesi, I will bring her before the khalasar, slit her throat, and bleed her dry.”

She pulled away just enough to catch his gaze, her own speaking volumes of the dark and malicious intentions brewing within. Without another word, she strode past him and through the crowd without even sparing another glance in his direction.

---

Jon could see the frown that Anaris was directing toward him from the corner of his eyes and it caused him to sigh heavily. He didn’t mean to worry her, but it was nigh impossible when all he could do was worry about her safety. Instead of thinking too long on it, he merely tried to push the myriad of emotions he was feeling to the back of his mind and focus on their journey instead. Anaris’ soft voice brought him from his thoughts and he turned his dark brown gaze to her, brow furrowing and lips pulling down at the corners despite himself at the expression she wore. “I know…” He said softly, features still twisted with a frown. “I guess I just wanted to press on to get us as far away from Winterfell and Castle Black as possible.” His eyes slipped between hers, knowing they were both tired, sore, and hungry.

The only one that seemed unaffected by their traveling was Ghost, who stood to the side of Jon, ears and eyes turning in every direction. He’d caught them what animals he could hunt and easily carry back, though more often than not, he would return to Jon and Anaris with a bloody muzzle, yet no food for the two of them. Perhaps that was indication enough for him that Ghost wasn’t completely unaffected by tireless nights and long days spent walking and carefully treading around what few groups of people they’d stumbled across.

He shot her a look when she answered him, mouth pursing slightly as the frown dropped from his features into something a bit more stony, yet not necessarily perturbed. Despite his appreciation for the fact Anaris still had her backbone and wouldn’t let him dictate everything they did. With how tired he was, he found himself bending to her more and more, not even having the energy to argue his side. At the next comment she made in regards to their training, he couldn’t help but to smile. “I suppose you’re not quite as hopeless as you once were,” he murmured, his smile quickly turning into a wry grin instead. “Though, you have my teaching to thank for that,” he added smartly. Instead of pointing out the fact that he did not want a single man to lay a finger on her, he left it at that, preferring to keep the conversation light-hearted.

Jon was taken off guard by how quickly she’d replied to his question, lips parting slightly and eyes widening a bit as he stared at her for a few long moments. His cheeks tingled, a telltale sign that he was flushed despite trying his hardest to not let the direction this conversation get to him. They were only pretending to be married, nothing more. Clearing his throat, he ducked his head a bit and nodded in agreement, pressing his lips together a bit as he tried to stem his nerves. “I think you’re right. I only hope I don't look too much like a Night’s Watch deserter,” he replied, lifting his gaze to hers once more. “Which is probably why it’s a good thing you’re wearing my collar.”

The young man risked a glance over to the clearing where he could faintly see a few buildings through a line of trees and he studied it for a few moments. His attention was directed back to Anaris as she spoke his name, watching her expectantly. He grimaced a bit as she spoke, knowing she was right, but there was a part of him that wanted to argue with her. “We can deal with that when we know this village has an inn, alright?” He replied softly, shooting her a look before he started toward the clearing. They’d have to come up with a believable alibi in case the villagers posed questioned. Thankfully, they didn’t look too worse for wear, spare the few spots of dirt and grass stain on their clothes and the drenched hems of their cloaks.

“If any one asks, the wagon we were traveling broke a wheel and we’ve had to walk the rest of the way,” he told her, shooting a look to her over his shoulder. “We should probably think of names other than our own, just in case the rumors of my leaving the Watch have made it this far.”

Drogo blinked at her. The woman was almost infuriatingly stubborn. Suggesting that she would merely entertain the idea of what he’d said was almost enough to drive him insane. He’d overheard Qotho and Haggo discussing her weeks ago, Haggo confused as to why she was still around. Qotho had merely laughed, and said that their khal enjoyed it. Drogo had almost scoffed that very moment, but later on, he’d allowed himself to think that over. Did he truly enjoy her stubbornness, the way her streak of pride seemed to know exactly where to hit him? He enjoyed their bickering, yes. But there were times when she took it too far, and his ego was hurt. He was pulled from his thoughts and mimicked her stance. Chin raised just slightly, brows raised, staring down at her. “Slave, whore, Dothraki - I don’t care. Just not the visitors.” It would not do him well to admit that there was a small feeling of panic that had taken place in his chest since he’d first hear the news of their visitors. He’d grown accustomed to her there. If he had it his way, she would never leave.

His shoulders relaxed just a bit when she said that she understood. The woman was no idiot. He’d felt that she would understand, especially if it was coming from him and not one of his men. That was something that he’d learned. His men were too quick to anger with her and her insolence. While she’d never pushed it too far, the men - especially Haggo - didn’t appreciate any of it whatsoever. “Good,” he said, gratitude filling the word. It appeased him that she would stay away. There hadn’t been any good omens for a fight recently, and anything that would arise would worry his people. They wouldn’t take to having to spill blood for a foreigner, especially when the visiting men could be bringing a possible khaleesi.

Drogo had heard the whisperings amongst his people, though. Whispers that Ayleth was to be their khaleesi, despite everything that could be gained by him taking a woman from another kingdom. Before Ayleth, he’d considered it. Affection had no place among the Dothraki. It did happen, though. Usually, it was fostered between two people for awhile, and a marriage would result out of it. Khals, however, were rare for affection. In the privacy of his tent, though, he’d been exposed to more with her than he had in his entire life. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it made him nervous.

He watched as she stilled. The corners of his lips twitched upwards even more, his head tilting down just a little. This is precisely what he’d wanted. Having to communicate without a language for the longest time, he’d learned to read her fairly well. And he’d gotten his wish for jealousy, although this seemed to be more. He cocked a brow as she began to speak, not surprised by the amount of control she was exhibiting. All amusement vanished the second her hand was wrapping around the back of his neck. He allowed it to happen, only so they would not cause a larger scene. He kept his expression cool and blank, although internally he was pleased with her response. He’d been wondering just what her thoughts were on him, and it appeared as though in her mind, he was already hers. He waited until she’d strode far enough away before speaking to the small crowd. “Leave.”

They dispersed quickly as he started after her. Khal Drogo would not be spoken to in such a way. His long strides made it easy to catch up with her, and without a single word, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He tugged her between two tents, his back against a third. It was quiet, everyone having gone to tend to the stallions. He glared down at her, keeping up the facade even though he wanted to grin at her. She’d reacted precisely like a khaleesi should. In his mind, his decision was already made.

“You think you can act like that in front of my people?” He asked, his dark gaze boring into her. “I won’t tolerate that happening again.”

---

“We’ve been walking for ages,” Anaris began, taking care to keep her voice gentle and soft. They were both tired, and neither of them needed to raise their voices at the other. It just pained her to watch as he pushed himself to what might be too far. “We’re far enough away that a day’s rest won’t be the end of the world,” she added, reaching over and placing a hand on his arm. Please let there be an inn, she prayed in silence, a plea to the Old Gods. Ever since she’d left Winterfell, she hadn’t been sure if they’d been listening to her. She just hoped that they were, for both of their sakes.

She let her hand drop when she saw his stony look, unsure of just how tired he was. They’d yet to truly argue about anything, or to grow angry with one another. It seemed inevitable, though, with how much time they were spending together. Her gaze raked across his face, trying to guess just how exhausted he truly was. Her stomach betrayed her and growled, and that just added to her concern. They hadn’t had a lot of access to food, and she knew how hungry she was, how hungry they both were. The corners of her lips twitched up into a smile when she saw his. “You’re teaching, or my skill?” She questioned as her smile turned into a smirk. It softened for a moment, though, as she thought just about why they needed to share a room - cost aside. “Sharing a room is a good idea, though. I’m not sure I can handle a fight on my own just yet.”

The idea of having a room was making her feel a little giddy. She hadn’t bathed in weeks. How it would feel to be clean, even for just a night! To wash the dirt off of her body and clean her hair was something that she’d dreamed about for weeks. And the thought of a mattress almost made her groan. Not sleeping in the woods or having to worry about someone coming upon them or a hundred other fears would make for a good night’s sleep. She watched the flush of his cheeks and felt her stomach drop. Maybe she wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep with Jon sleeping beside her. Obviously, they wouldn’t have to sleep in their coats like they’d been doing. Seeing him clean and possibly even clean shaved made her stomach dip even more.

“You look more like a homeless traveler than a man of the Night’s Watch,” Anaris mused. He looked more rough since they’d met that first, snowy night. She was sure that she did as well. “At least you’re calling it your collar, which means you’re going to get it back eventually,” she grinned, picking up their usual line of bickering. It amused her to no end that that was the thing that had stuck between them, filling their days of walking with gentle bickering.

She scowled at his back as he started to move, waiting for only a second before starting after him. “There’s nothing to deal with,” she said, her stubbornness coming through strong. “You’re going to keel over if you don’t get a good night’s rest and some food. We’re both sleeping in the damn bed and that’s it.” Her frustration was seeping into her tone, enough frustration to cause her to swear, which was a rare event in and of itself. He just made her so mad sometimes, with how self-sacrificing he was.

She hurried to keep up with him, giving him a short nod of her head. “What shall I call you, then?” Her stomach was twisting as they walked, the building slowly getting larger and easier to see. She strained to hear, and the shout of children playing reached her ears. Without realizing it, she smiled. “Would I have to use a different name as well? I can’t imagine anyone would be talking about a woman disappearing from Winterfell.”

Ayleth couldn’t remember the last time she felt like splitting someone open with a blade. Her hands were trembling at her sides, but that was the only indication of just how angered she’d been by the idea of the khal choosing another khaleesi in a political move. She understood the concept of them, as nearly every marriage in Westeros was founded off of the gain of power, land, or wealth. The thought of easily being pushed aside, however, greatly overshadowed her reasoning at the moment. If those men had brought their prospective khaleesi, she wasn’t even sure she could remain quiet.

Her head was swimming with so many thoughts that she barely took notice of the sound of someone approaching her; what with her head down as she barreled forward. When she felt fingertips close around her wrist, her head shot up, ready to react and fight if needed. Her gaze only hardened at the sight of the khal pulling her behind him, but she would not fight him. Not yet anyways. The space between the tents was just enough for the two of them and it did nothing to help calm a swell of nerves, jealousy, and wrath that was boiling within her. As Drogo glared down at her, she leveled him with an equal glare of her own, eyes dark and unforgiving as she drew in slow, deep breaths of air.

The warrior’s gaze narrowed slightly as he spoke to her, his comments only further feeding the rage that roiled within her. “And I will not tolerate being pushed aside.” She stated. Again, her voice gave away nothing of just how angry she was. She made it a point to keep her tone low, hollow, but with enough bite that only the khal would know that her control was about to snap. She stared at him for the longest time, jaw clenched and eyes hard as her mind struggled to take what she was thinking and put it with Dothraki words. There were things she wanted to make perfectly clear between the two of them and she would not stand to repeat herself.

“I could leave in the night, so easily…but I haven’t,” Ayleth started, gaze and voice unwavering. “I could have begged you for my blades back, but I haven’t.” Drawing in a deep breath of air, her stomach gave an anxious turn and she couldn’t help but chastise herself for such a foreign feeling emotion. “Believe me, if I did not want to be here, I would not be. I could have easily outrun your men, taken my stallion, and ridden away…but I have not.” Her jaw clenched for a moment, petite nostrils flaring as a bit of the anger within made its way to the surface. She felt a bit weak, contending with these emotions she felt were meant for lesser woman. Ayleth of Starfall did not get jealous and, despite her temper, she did not let it control her as much as she had.

Before she could stop herself, she continued in the hopes that she was translating the words correctly in her mind. “What would you do if I told you I was meeting with visitors and that they had brought a khal for me to consider, but you could not be present?” She posed, arms crossing over her chest once more as she stared him down. Drawing in another deep breath of air as she set her jaw, she shook her head and looked away. Perhaps he wouldn’t have reacted like her, perhaps she was just another woman to bed, but it certainly hadn’t felt like that, especially not in the privacy of his tent. “The thought of another woman with you makes my blood boil and I promise you, I would not allow you or your khaleesi a moment of peace,” she said through tightly clenched teeth, darkness twining its way into her words as she drew herself up to her full height. He needed to remember just how dangerous she was, how easily it is for her to fight without blades and without weapons. Her words were not to be taken lightly. She was just a woman, yes, but she was a deadly one.

The woman took a step toward the khal, her fiery amethyst gaze boring into his as she leveled her chin once more and found the strength that had fallen back to let anger control her. “It appears today poses an important decision for you, my khal,” she told him, voice going even as she reined herself back in. Her eyes slipped between his, tempted on turning and walking away from him once more, but knowing that he’d pulled her between the tents to talk. She wanted to hear what he had to say, if anything. “I would hate to think what would happen if your decision disappointed me,” she finished in a low voice, eyes flashing as they darted between his.

---

Jon knew if they were lucky, they could catch one of the farmers tending to their crops and hopefully get the answers they sought about the village without even stepping foot into it. Perhaps, if they were even luckier still, they could be taken in by a farmer and have a warm meal, some ale, and a bed waiting for them in a home that was away from prying eyes. It was a long shot, probably less of a chance than the village having an inn, but perhaps his father’s supporters were still plentiful. Should anyone tell him their loyalties lay with House Stark, he wondered if he would let them know who he was and where he was going. “I know,” he replied simply to the woman traveling with him. “I fear what they would do to you if they thought you had aided in my escape,” he continued honestly, gaze holding hers for a few moments.

For a woman he’d spent nearly every waking hour with since they’d met, he still found himself wanting to know more about her. They’d barely spoke to each other about their past, their childhood, or anything that could potentially bring up unwanted emotions. The journey they were on seemed dire enough at times. There was no use in either one of them to bring up events that were better left in the past if it would effect their journey forward. Again, he couldn’t help but to find himself thinking what it meant that he had not yet grown tired of her company, but instead craved it more. Her comment shook him from his thoughts and a laugh left him before he could stop it. “Maybe a little of both,” he told her, matching the smirk she wore. “Is that a fair enough answer?” He asked softly, another laugh leaving him.

The smirk dropped slowly at the mention of them sharing a room. His stomach was turning over and over anxiously as his mind rested on what true privacy would feel like in a small room with Anaris. Sure, there had been plenty of moments in the forest that had certainly felt secluded, but there was something distinctly different about being closed behind the wooden barrier of a door than merely ducking behind the nearest tree. Being in a room alone with her made him nervous, but he knew he didn’t like any other alternative. He was once again pulled away from his racing thoughts by Anaris speaking once more. “On any other occasion, I’d find that very offensive, Anaris,” he told her, managing to keep a straight face as he stared her down. “But I suppose looking like a homeless traveler is far better than looking like someone who’s abandoned the Night’s Watch.” It was all he could do not to groan at the mention of the collar, but instead he merely rolled his eyes a bit. “The further South we go, the less I’ll need it,” he told her in a matter-of-factly sort of tone.

He stepped over a massive root of a tree, biting back the comment he initially wanted to make at how there was nothing to deal with. However, when she continued, Jon felt himself flushing even more. Despite himself, he’d known that she’d stated they were both going to sleep in the bed. In his mind, that immediately meant they would be sharing it, but he knew she probably meant they would just take turns. It wasn’t like they hadn’t already slept in close proximity to one another, but the added element of a bed did make things a bit different. “Fine,” he found himself replying through a sigh, pursing his lips for a moment as he turned to look over at Anaris for a moment before directing his gaze forward as they broke through the line of trees.

Jon was having the hardest time thinking up a name for him and a surname for the both of them to use. His mind was racing fast through notable family names where it may be obvious they were not who they said they were. “I’ll go by the name Benjen,” he said, finally resting on a first name. It was the name of his uncle, but it should have been a popular enough name that no one would bat an eye. “Benjen Stane,” he finished, turning to look over at Anaris. He too could hear the sound of children playing and the smile on her lips brought one to his own. “You’ll be Anaris Stane,” he said with a nod of his head.

Khal Drogo raised a brow at her words. It was hard for him to keep his expression neutral. Ayleth may not have been born a Dothraki, but she had the fierceness of one boiling through her veins. It made him proud to know that she was of such power. He tugged on her arm, pulling her closer to him. Normally he would not do such a thing, but there was little chance of someone coming along and finding them in such a position. “And I will not tolerate being handled in such a way in front of my people. A khaleesi does not treat a khal that way in front of his men,” he responded, his voice low and dark. While he appreciated her jealousy, he would not agree with her actions. To act such a way with him in front of his people was just not done.

“So why have you stayed? You learn the language of my people. You share a tent with me. You have gained the respect of my people, yet you have not said a single thing in what you want, or why you have chosen to stay.” It was unfair of him to demand her to admit such things when he himself hadn’t allowed a second for such thoughts when it concerned him. But he needed to hear her say it, to have the words leave her lips that she wanted to stay because of him. That she wanted to be his khaleesi. She would make a fine khaleesi of his people, but he could not remember a time when a khal had actually asked a woman such a thing. It was simply demanded, and the woman would agree to it.

He blinked at her, tilting his head as he thought it over. What would he do? He tugged on her wrist once more, pulling her so that she was flush against him. In a move to mimic her stance from earlier, his free hand lifted up and wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her close to him. He leaned down, cheek against cheek before he spoke. “I would slit the khal’s throat, make him bleed out before his men before I did the same to him. I would strip them of their dignity and drag their naked bodies back to be displayed in front of his people. Their bodies would not be allowed to burn, but instead rot on the plains,” he breathed, the violent words quiet and forceful in the silence. He waited another moment before pulling away from her, watching as she stood up straight. It would be easy for her to take him, if she so choose. He respected her enough that he was fine with admitting that.

“Today poses no more of an important decision than any other,” he said, his tone switching from his prior use of force to one of an almost casual air. He kept his brows raised, lips twitching into a smirk that was used only for her. “My decision has been made for some time. I just said that there was a possibility of them bringing her here. I never said I would choose her.” If he really thought about it, his people would most likely look down upon any khaleesi other than Ayleth. The children admired her, the men and woman respected and feared her. Any woman to come after her would fall short of her.

“You’re the one that stormed off after handling a khal in front of his people. If anything, that fearlessness alone dictates who deserves to be the khaleesi of this khalasar,” he said, blinking down at her. His gaze flickered over her body, appreciating how she looked in Dothraki garb. After a couple of moments he looked back up to her, eyes meeting hers. “You worry about nothing.”

---

Anaris kept her gaze steady on his, but faltered when he spoke. She hadn’t realized that he’d been so concerned about that. “Jon, I…” She let her words fade off, finding it hard to find the right ones to say. Nothing seemed to be good enough. “You needn’t concerned yourself with that.” She glanced around them, as though making sure that there weren’t any members of the Night’s Watch ready to bombard them. “We’ve got to be close to your brother’s army. We’re almost safe. We’ll… We’ll deal with that if it comes,” she finished. It wasn’t much, and she was almost positive that it wasn’t going to help with his worry. She’d managed to keep her fear of them being caught at bay, but knowing that he was concerned as well wasn’t helping her.

She shook her head a little, as though wanting to shake those thoughts and fears away. She needed to focus on what was present. At the present moment, they were safe. They had each other, and Ghost, and they’d deal with whatever would come their way, like she’d told him. It was easy to be pulled from her thoughts when he’d laughed, though. It made her nervous at times, that it was so easy for him to make her feel better, even without him knowing it. “I suppose that’s decent,” she said, her laughter matching his. “You’re teaching probably a little bit more than my skill, though, if the bruises on my back say anything,” she said, giving him a small smile.

She looked from him to the ground before them, making sure not to trip over any branches or rocks. She’d been getting better at walking through the woods, finding herself tripping less and less as the snow diminished. They’d crossed many miles over the weeks, and she still wasn’t sure if it was slowly getting warmer, or if she was imagining it. Either way, she appreciated the smaller amounts of snow. It made things a lot easier. “I don’t know why you’d find that offensive. Somehow, it’s a good look for you,” she teased, grinning up at his straight face. “Well, I’ll need it less as well. Which means you’ll have to take it back eventually,” she said, already planning on sneaking it into his pack somehow once they’d made it to his brother.

She glanced over to him, eyes widening when his smirk dropped. He’d said about them sharing a room, hadn’t he thought that they’d be sharing a bed as well? She’d overstepped their bounds, then. Of course he would have thought about them taking turns. It was the more chivalrous and accepted choice. She’d been the one to assume that they’d sleep together. Anaris needed to get herself under control. “Good,” she said, her words going out shorter than she’d intended. She laid her palm out against a tree, using it to keep her balance as she stepped over the large tree root after him.

“Benjen and Anaris Stane,” she tried out, her stomach flipping at the two of them sharing a last name - even if it was fake. Gods, she thought to herself, get it together. She glanced over to him as they walked, remembering him as he’d looked before all of this, when they’d both been in Winterfell at the same time. Sometimes, she found it hard to believe they were both still so young. “How long will we have been married, then? In case someone asks.” Her cheeks were flushing as she asked him, finding that her heart was pounding in her chest. The small homes grew clearer through the trees, and she spotted a couple of homes and what looked to be the outskirts of a farm a handful of trees ahead.

Ayleth took a step forward when the khal tugged on her arm, setting her jaw once more as she looked at him. She was used to him being just the right amount of rough with her, but with how angry she still was, it threatened to make her lose control of her temper. At his words, she narrowed her eyes at him once more before one of those telling grins curled her features. “A khaleesi treats a khal that way when she wants to let his people know that he is hers and hers alone,” she retorted in an equally low voice. She knew that he had not been speaking figuratively. She’d told him she was a khaleesi in her own right and he was a khal. All in his khalasar were expected to respect him and she had crossed the line. However, she didn’t quite know if she fit as one of his khalasar or merely just an outsider who had been welcomed to stay. Perhaps now as the time to get answers out of him.

When he spoke again, she drew in a regulated breath of air, thinking through her reply once more. The longer the conversation went on, the harder it was for her to think through the words in Dothraki. She was tempted to lay into him in the common tongue, but he would only understand a few words and her point would be lost. “When we first met, you bested me by mere size alone,” she began, tone a bit softer than it had been before. “Up until that point, the only men who had bested me played unfair and tied me down and took their victory instead of earning it.” She paused for a moment, eyes darting between his. Ducking her head as a few Dothraki women passed, she held her tongue as they seemed to pay no attention to the two of them. “I respect you, Khal Drogo, and I know your trust has to be earned. I want to earn that trust. Running away in the night, getting on my knees to beg for my blades back will not accomplish that. The trust of a man like you can only come with time and be proven with actions.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes searing into his. “I stay because I want to earn your trust. I stay because I enjoy your company above anyone else I have ever met. I stay because we are evenly matched in battle, sheer size aside.”

The woman paused for the longest time, gaze set hard on his as she tried to think of what to say next. What was he expecting from her? To tell him exactly what she wanted? That she wanted him to herself? Or that she wanted to be his khaleesi and bear his strong children? Before she had time to say anything else, he was pulling her frame against his, her free hand resting against his side as he breath caught in her throat at the feel of his hand at the back of her neck in such a possessive gesture. Her eyes fluttered shut at what he was saying, finding his words quickly lighting up another emotion with her. She would have liked nothing more than to throw him to the ground and take him there, but he had visitors to meet with. It was then, she realized, that it seemed they were even in their affections for one another as well as in battle. Her heart gave a slight twinge at this realization, knowing what she had to do next.

That was, until he took up a tone like the meeting with visitors today was not important. Khaleesi aside, she knew it was important. The smirk he wore only irritated her even more. She opened her mouth to retort, but when he continued speaking, she let out a soft grunt of disapproval, eyes hard and mouth set. The expression was gone as quick as it had come as he continued to speak, knowing now her reaction had probably been unmerited. In fact, she didn’t doubt the khal wanted to see her fly into a rage. “You are a brave and wicked man, Drogo, if you worried me on purpose,” she told him plainly, the slightest hint of a grin twitching at her features. “I’ve slaughtered men for less.”

She gave what she would say next great thought and carefully strung together her words before saying him, all hint of jest or anger gone from her features. “I have never met a man that I would cut down a thousand warriors for, nor have I met a man I would lay down my swords and bear children for,” she spoke quieter still, eyes slipping between both of his. “If you find me deserving of being the khaleesi to your people, the mother to your sons, and your wife, I would not deny you.”

---

Before Jon could help himself, he was scoffing at Anaris for saying he didn’t need to concern himself with if they were caught or not and what would happen to her. He stopped walking for a moment and turned to her. Did she not see that she was the reason he was kept up all these nights? The need to protect and see her to safety consumed him more than even chivalry called for. These feelings frightened him and here she was brushing the fears he had eating away at him away. “Don’t you get it, Anaris,” he said softly, his voice quiet, tired, and hoarse. “They would have you hanged alongside me, no questions asked.” He paused for a moment, sighing heavily as he ran a hand over his face. “If it comes to it, and I’m praying to any Gods left listening that it doesn’t, but if it does…you will say you were kidnapped by me. I will not have your death as a result of my actions.” There was an edge of finality to his tone and his eyes cut into hers for a moment before turning and starting back toward the village.

Ghost whined softly and nudged his head against his master’s hand, tentatively licking at his fingers like a pup. It was as if he knew that his master’s words could have potentially hurt Anaris’ feelings. Ghost, surprisingly, was quite taken with Anaris. The great beast often opted to come to her for pettings and soft words. Jon looked down at the direwolf and heaved a great sigh, shooting a glance over his shoulder to Anaris. “I’m sorry. I should have just left it at we’ll deal with it if it comes,” he told her softly. He wish he could think of more to say to her. “I just…” He paused for a moment, lost in his thoughts as he tried to reason out what he was trying to say without saying too much. “We’ve been together for weeks now. I would be lying if I said I haven’t come to care for you,” he said. He was being honest, but the true depth of how he felt still lay hidden beneath his words. He didn’t know if he’d ever find the courage to say what he really wanted to say.

He was quiet for sometime after he’d spoken, merely keeping his tired gaze on their surroundings as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his cloak pocket; another clear sign they were making it further South. As they passed by a little farmhouse with children playing outside of it, her grinned despite himself. What he wouldn’t have given to be that young again and to have not had the burdens he wore now. “Benjen and Anaris Stane,” he repeated to himself, as if trying to cement it into his memory. He turned to her and spoke in a hushed voice. “It may be safest to say we’re newlyweds,” he murmured to her, shooting her a glance before looking away once more. He’d gotten the flush on his cheeks under control, but he was afraid if he stared at her too long, it may come back. “We do have the look of newlyweds about us, right?” He questioned before he took note of a farmer eyeing the two of them carefully.

Jon put on his most charming smile, though he was sure the fatigue he felt within clearly showed, and looped his arm through Anaris’ leading her over to the man. He held her arm snug against his side; he wasn’t afraid she would run away, he just hoped the gesture made her feel somewhat safe. “Beggin' your pardon, but you two look like you’ve been through all seven hells and back,” the farmer spoke as he approached the two of them before the two parties stopped a comfortable distance away from one another. “Where did you two come from?” The farmer asked, dividing a stare between the two of them.

“The wagon we were traveling on broke a wheel on a rut in the road,” Jon explained softly, hoping the farmer wouldn’t see straight through their lie. “The rest of our caravan resigned to being stranded, while we knew we needed to keep traveling. We’ve travelled far on foot until we reached this village,” he continued, sparing a glance or two over in Anaris’ direction. “If you could just let us know if there is an inn near the main part of the village that will have us, we’ll gladly be on our way.”

“Of course, of course,” the farmer replied with a nod of his head as he eyed the two of them once more and scratched at the stubble on his chin, “there’s one just on the other side of the village. I doubt they have any ale left, though. King Robb’s men just came through here not three days ago.” At these words, Jon gave Anaris’ arm a slight squeeze, keeping his expression unfaltering at these words. They were close. They were so unbelievably close and it sparked a new hope within him.

The khal straightened his back, using his full height to tower above her. “A khaleesi should already know that the khal is hers, and should not display such actions in front of his people,” he countered, noting the way his stomach warmed at the phrasing of ‘hers’. He was used to being possessive - of her, of his stallion, of his people and their lands. But for the life of him, he could not remember having someone be possessive of him. Whores had tried, over the years, but none had succeeded. They’d wanted to elevate their status and had had no other uses beyond whoring. They would not have made a good khaleesi for him. Ayleth, however, was no whore.

He felt a prickle of rage burn through him at the mention of men besting her. He had no qualms with besting people - men or women. He knew that his men had done despicable things in the sights of other men, but to tie a warrior down and take their victory rather than fighting for it made him burn. Or rather, the thought of a man tying Ayleth down and ripping their victory from him made him want to slit their throats then and there. His fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into his palms and making little half moons into his skin. He vowed one day, he would find them, and make them suffer. He’d seen the scars upon her back and had wondered how she’d gotten such fearsome things. He’d admired them all, tracing them and kissing them when they’d slept together. But now, knowing that someone had marred her skin in such a cowardly way made him want to scream. “You are the first woman to earn any of my trust, Khaleesi Ayleth,” he began, gaze flickering up behind her. He knew that having this discussion there was risking the chance of someone overhearing them, but there wasn’t enough time for them to walk back to his tent and continue. The visitors were due soon. “You have proven yourself time and time again. You are worthy of being a khaleesi to these people.”

His hand settled on her hip, squeezing it gently as she spoke. “It’s why they named me khal,” he replied, finding the truth in it. He was brave and he was wicked, possibly more so in her eyes after making her feel that. “You could try to slaughter me, but as you said, we are evenly matched in battle,” he added, allowing himself the smallest of smirks. He reached up and tugged on her hair. “I’d seen you angry, and joyous, laughing and upset. But I’d yet to see you jealous of a whore. I’d always wandered if you could be even more fearsome then when you’re angered.” He paused, looking down at her with an almost fond expression. “You are quite fearsome when jealous.”

Drogo tried to think back through his entire life, and remember a single time when someone had shocked him such as she. He’d been expecting a lot of things to leave her lips, but that… That had been unexpected. “You have thought this through.” It was not a question. Her words from earlier, of how she wanted to earn his trust, proved enough of that to him. “I would not have you lay down your sword to bare children. I would not ask a warrior to do so,” he said, his thoughts already racing on how he would present this. It wouldn’t be announced today. The men visiting would get upset and blood would be shed and nothing would get done. “Out of all the women I have come across, you are the only one to be deserving of such a title. I’ve yet to meet a woman who matches you on anything.”

---

Anaris stumbled as he stopped and turned, almost tripping so she wouldn’t run into him. She righted herself easily enough, although her focus was more on the words he was speaking. They’d have you hanged. The thought had crossed her mind once before, a few days after they’d first met. If they were to be found out, she’d be guilty by association. Knowing a Night’s Watch deserter and not turning him in was a crime in itself, as though she’d been harboring a criminal. But she’d realized that and she’d still stuck by him, and his words cut through her. Did he truly think that she was just some woman blindly following him? She’d known what she was getting herself into, and to have him say such things, to tell her that she would lie and sully his name further… She didn’t even deign it with a response, instead her lips settling into a scowl as she silently started after him towards the village.

She heard Ghost whine and winced, thankful that Jon was in front of her. She scowled once more when she caught him glancing over his shoulder towards her. She squared her own shoulders, ready to ignore him and continue on, but then he was speaking and it was making her pause in her anger. “Jon,” she breathed, a sigh leaving her lips. “I… I’d be lying as well, if I said I haven’t come to… to care for you. Too.” The words came out soft and stilted, but there they were. She felt like it wasn’t enough, though. More needed to be said, but she wasn’t sure if it was the right time. Or when that time would be. It would be unfair to tell him such things and then them come across Robb’s army and that be that. Jon would go on to fight and Anaris? Well, Anaris would most likely be left behind to figure it all out for herself. She held her tongue, ignoring the way that her heart ached at those thoughts.

She gave him a short nod of her head, feeling her cheeks flush at his words. “We have the look of something about us,” she muttered, not willing to admit that they most likely did look like newlyweds. Most of the time throughout their travels, she felt like they’d been grinning or smiling at each other, constantly laughing and teasing. She wondered if most would believe that they were newlyweds, even when they didn’t have to pretend as such. Her stomach swooped as he joined his arm with hers, her arm suddenly against his side. It was nice, and warm. Safe, even. She offered the farmer a warm smile, leaning into Jon as she fell into the part.

“As long as there’s still a room left, I’m sure it will be just fine,” she said, reaching over to place a hand on Jon’s arm as she offered him a small smile. She turned back to the farmer, hope filling her as well as dread. They’d lucked out and found an inn, plus the farmer had referred to Jon’s brother as King Robb, which meant that they were loyal. The dread, however, came from the realization that their journey was close to the end. She took care to make sure that her smile was still genuine as she thanked the farmer. “Thank you so much, sir. Really, you’ve no idea how thankful we are.”

As Ayleth noted the khal straightening up a bit, she leveled her chin to him, proving to him that she still was not scared of him. Instead of replying to his statement, she merely tilted her head to the side slightly, sharp eyes narrowing before they drifted slowly over him. A grin suddenly curled her lips as an answer came to her. “Perhaps a khaleesi thought the khal needed reminding in front of his people and not just in the privacy of his tent,” she told him in a lofty tone, eyes lighting up. If it wasn’t obvious to him now, he was the only reason she had stayed and she would not allow him to consider another khaleesi.

The woman pulled her lips between her teeth for a moment as the khal fell silent, watching him closely as she looked for any sign of a reaction. Her gaze noted the muscles of his arms shifting and her eyes flitted down to the clenched fist at his side. The scars she wore on her back were a reminder to her of what men should not be and the man in front of her was anything but. He was a brutal warrior, yes, but he faced a fight fairly. She respected that above all else. Her gaze found his as he spoke again, a small smile curling her lips at the title he’d added before her given name. Her head bowed for a moment, letting the way it sounded sink in for a moment before she lifted her chin once more. “I would rather fall upon my own blade than to betray that trust, Khal Drogo,” she replied, before glancing behind her. Far off, she could hear the sounds of a commotion, voices murmuring with conversation. With what he said next, she knew she had secured her place with the khal and that she was to be his khaleesi. She wondered what the feeling was rising within her, like a warmth that came with finally feeling like she’d found a worthy place for her.

A soft sigh left her as his hand found her hip and she took a step forward, resting her forearms just over his shoulders as she watched him with one of those sly grins. Her whole being was singing with something that felt foreign to her; the world fading away around her as her whole attention was devoted to man in front of her. A quiet, musical laugh left her as he spoke, lips pulling back into a bright smile as she shook her head a bit. “Perhaps I would forfeit for the sake of keeping you around,” she mused with a raised brow. A low hum left her as he tugged on her hair, eyes slipping shut for a moment as she pressed her body flush against his. “If I am to be your khaleesi, I will not tolerate another woman in our bed. Then you will truly see a woman become fearsome,” she told him. Her tone was light, but her eyes cut into his to let him know that she was not jesting. “You’re mine,” she whispered, lips pulling up at the corners once more.

“Of course, I have,” she replied simply, shaking her head a bit. At what he said next, she grinned fully up at him, feeling proud that she had gained such a high approval of a man she respected. But before she had time to reply, footsteps sounded from the area they had hidden in. She slowly pulled away from him, turning to face Qotho, who was eyeing the two of them knowingly.

“The visitors have arrived, Khal,” he told them, ducking his head and directing his eyes away from them. Ayleth turned to look up at the khal once more, the grin never faltering from her features. Instead of saying anything, she merely nodded her head to him once before turning and striding past Qotho, intent on tucking herself away in the khal’s tent until the visitors left.

---

Jon couldn’t help but feel like there was an inkling of a feeling within him that maybe Anaris could feel the same way for him as he felt for her. He knew that was a slim chance, but when she had replied to what he said the way she did…it lit a dim flame of hope within him. He knew that it was useless to think that way. Especially when they seemed to be so close to war, even more so now that he knew Robb was not too far away. Surely his men could not move too far within just a few days. As long as he got Anaris to safety, he honestly did not care what happened to him, but he knew that any aspect of a future together was grim. The whole purpose of his journey was to fight for Robb and battle was anything but predictable.

If he did ever admit his feelings to Anaris and if she felt the same, they would find themselves worry about the other until the battle was over. There was part of him that wanted to throw caution to the wind and give himself the opportunity to take the chance and live a little. The other part, the part that was holding him back, knew that he didn’t want to cause her any undue sorrow should war claim him as a victim. Still, he’d never felt like this about anyone before and he didn’t know if he’d ever find anything like it again. To have someone cause himself to question everything after a chance encounter in the middle of a snowy forest, he wondered what could be left to coincidence.

He nodded once after Anaris spoke, grin returning to his features as he felt a little more at ease around the farmer. The Gods, perhaps, thought they deserved a break after their long journey. “Yes, thank you, sir,” Jon said with a gracious nod of his head to the farmer. He turned to glance at Anaris, feeling a certain warmth blossoming in his chest at this sight of her on his arm, his hand placed gently on his, and the smile that lit up her features. He found himself watching her for a few moments before drawing in a deep breath of air and beginning to lead the two of them toward the small village and the inn that waited for them there.

Even as they walked, he did not release his grip on her arm, feeling better that he was keeping her close. He turned to spare a glance at her, the smile never leaving his features. “As much as I don't want to let my guard down, I can’t help to think this is leading up to the rest that we both need,” he murmured softly to her, in case there was anyone they didn’t see that could potentially be listening in to the two of them. “I have to admit, it sounds very weird hearing my brother referred to as ‘King Robb’,” he added, shaking his head a bit. Ghost was following closely beside them, tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth as his eyes continued to roam the area. So much had changed since he’d last seen one of his siblings—he wondered if the events that had unfolded had drastically changed any one of them. He could only hope that Robb hadn’t changed.

As they approached the small village, Jon drew in a deep breath of air. The townsfolk were going about their daily duties, darting in and out of the buildings as the occasionally snort of a nearby few horses could be heard over the quiet village. It was a picturesque scene; there was no snow and everyone seemed happy and content with the lives they lead. Despite himself, Jon wanted to stay for a few days longer than he knew they would. The air around him felt light and carefree; coaxing him to relax and clear his mind of all that was troubling him.

Khal Drogo quirked a brow at her, an amused look slipping over his eyes. It still struck him how she treated him. It was as though he was merely another warrior to her. Not a khal, or an adversary, or even a man holding her hostage. No, they were equals. “Perhaps a khaleesi needs to be reminded of her place here.” The corners of his lips twitched up into an almost feral smirk as he leaned forward. “Perhaps a khaleesi needs to be shown where her place is - in my tent.” He paused. “On her knees.”

That sentence alone would have been enough for him to demand her to be his khaleesi. Her people must have mourned her absence, for he could not imagine losing such a loyal warrior. He glanced over her shoulder, but had yet to see anyone come towards them. He could hear murmurings, though, conversations slowly getting louder. He knew that their time was limited, and in vain, he prayed to the Great Stallion for more. “You have my trust, but do I have yours?” He questioned, wanting to hear her say it. He found himself wanting to hear her say a lot of things, to pledge herself to him over and over again. The more he though it over, the more he wanted her to repeat herself, to hear her whispering those threats in his ear of the fictional woman that would die if she took Ayleth’s place.

“That would be much too easy for you,” he answered, preferring the idea of them fighting to her forfeiting. He almost longed for that first battle between them, the dawning of the realization of her prowess. Even then, before he’d known her, he’d been surprised at how well of a fighter she was. How proud she was, even in the face of imminent danger. She was a marvel to witness. “If you are to by my khaleesi, there will not be another woman in our bed,” he said. It was as simple as that to him. He couldn’t tell when his bed had become theirs, but it had and it pleased him. He would not even consider sharing their bed with another. His chest warmed at the sound of those two words, reminding him of the similar sentence he’d said to her after they’d first fucked. “You are mine,” he replied.

He went to reply when he heard the footsteps approaching. He lifted his head slowly, glaring at the one who had dared interrupt them. When he saw that it was Qotho, he merely raised a brow in question. The visitors. Of course. He gave a nod of his head, turning his attention back to Ayleth. It was the grin that was remaining solid on her lips that made him change his mind.

“Ayleth,” he called, gaze slipping to her backside. He let it flicker back up her body, taking a step forward before he spoke once more. “You will be joining us.” He ignored the look Qotho was giving him, instead focusing on the woman in front of him. “Unless you wish to hide in my tent?”

---

It was unfair. That was the only thing that Anaris could think of, despite maintaining her warm smile. It was entirely unfair that they had to pretend to be married. It was entirely unfair that it felt so natural and safe on his arm. It was entirely unfair that the mere sight of his smile left her feeling as though the sun wasn’t nearly as bright as that bleeding grin of his. It was entirely unfair that within a couple of days, they would have met up with the army and most likely never see each other again. But she kept silent, instead offering the farmer her warm grin and trying to not be affected by Jon Snow.

She let herself be lead by him towards the village, realizing that the Gods existed. The Gods existed and were laughing at her. Finally, they’d found a place to stay for the night. Not only was it an inn, but it was an inn in a village that recognized his brother as king. It was everything she’d hoped for and she was realizing that they would have been better off with a tree to sleep against. She stole a glance towards him, her chest aching at the sight of his smile. Jon Snow deserved much more than being treated as the bastard son. He deserved much more than having his father beheaded by a brat. He deserved so much more than he’d been granted in his life, and yet he was still able to smile as though none of it had happened.

“You’re allowed to relax sometimes, you know,” she said, trying to match her tone to his murmur. It was hard, though, to keep the shortness out of her words. What was she to say to him? That she was angry that they were so close to what he’d been trekking towards for weeks? That she was bitter their pain and hardship was coming to an end? It was selfish of her to entertain such things. Even if she were to say them, no good would come out of it. “I can imagine,” she replied, at a loss for words. She couldn’t dwell in her frustrations. It wasn’t fair to him. She needed to make the best of their time together, whatever it may be.

“Are you excited to see him?” She asked, looking up to him as they walked. It was a nice village, picturesque even. Small and quiet, like the places she’d longed for when living in Winterfell. And no snow, either, which made it even better, in her opinion. “You know, when we were younger, the girls around my age would argue over who was more handsome - you or your brother,” she said, giving him a sly grin. Teasing was easy. It made it easier to push away the worries. “They’d argue for ages between the two of you - a couple of the girls fancied Theon, but not enough for it to be any real competition.”

That was it then. Ayleth and Drogo belonged to each other and she would soon take her place as Khaleesi of these people. Perhaps it was the fact that she had freely chosen him for herself, but she felt the happiest she had been in the longest time. Though, she couldn’t help that she wouldn’t have fought had this match been made for them, especially if she had known beforehand of the fighter this man was. There was so much she still wanted to say to him, so much she didn’t know how to say to him, and so much she couldn’t say to him—not with Qotho so close by.

She wanted to let him know that she trusted him above anyone else; that when she learned a more thorough comprehension of what was soon to be the language of their people, she would tell him anything he wanted to know about her, even the things she had never told anyone. She wanted to tell him of her past, where she was from, and why she had even been in Essos to begin with. She wanted to tell him that she would willingly bend a knee to him, whether it be to swear fealty to him or in the privacy of his tent—though she wanted to add that the khal’s new place may be on his back, beneath a khaleesi. Of course, with the added presence of Qotho, she most certainly could not say that.

As her name was called out to her, she turned and glanced between Qotho and Khal Drogo expectantly, brows lifted slightly as the grin slipped from her features. She managed to keep her expression stolid, though what the khal said next threatened her features to curl into another smile. The afterthought he added had a soft laugh vibrating in her chest. She turned to them completely and stepped over to them, one toned pale thigh peeking from the folds of her hide skirt as she stepped toward them. “If my khal would like me to join him, I shall,” she replied, clasping her hands behind her back as she leveled the khal with an unfaltering gaze. She paused poignantly for a moment. “Though, I will hide away in your tent, if that is your wish. I can find a place to wait for you—on my knees.” 


The noise that left Qotho was indication enough she had surprised him and she hoped the same of the khal. She let the smallest grin slip across her features as she stared up at the khal, eyes flashing with a knowing look before her gaze rounded on the bloodrider that had interrupted the two of them.

“Qotho,” she started, genuinely curious if he knew who these visitors were. The man turned to her, apparently still not over her previous comment as he quickly averted his eyes from her. “Have these visitors told you where they are from?” She asked, watching the man curiously. She knew the khal had some reservation to her coming to this meeting because they may recognize her.

“They have not said. We just know they are Westerosi.”

Ayleth nodded once before turning to face the khal once more. She found herself wanting to quiet whatever fear he had left that these visitors may know her and start a war to get her back. “If these visitors know me, my khal, they will also know of my swords and what I can do with them,” she explained, eyes set on his. “They would not dare to try anything they believe I would not like.”

---

Jon’s gaze rounded on Anaris as she spoke and his grin dropped slightly and brow furrowed. Was it not clear that he’d spent his nights up and worrying about if he would be able to keep her safe? A heavy sigh left him as he shook his head, trying to keep himself from getting too perturbed with her. It wouldn’t do for them to bicker or argue loudly and bring unneeded attention to themselves. “I haven’t relaxed since I left Winterfell to join the Night’s Watch,” he continued to speak in a hushed tone, knowing it wouldn’t do for someone to overhear this conversation. “Not completely relaxed, anyways,” he explained. For her sake, to not worry herself over him, he forced the grin back to his features. With the area that surrounded him and the woman that was on his arm, it wasn’t hard to find a reason to grin.

He also found it easy to push aside the fact that they could be spending their last moments truly together. He did not know what their fates would be once they reached Robb and that thought scared him. Jon had grown so used to Anaris’ company, he didn’t want to imagine not seeing her daily. She had been the first thing he’d seen when he’d woken up in the morning and the last time he’d seen before closing his eyes and trying desperately to sleep. Sure, they bickered, but they rarely argued. When they did argue, they were short-lived, easily-resolved, and with no hard feelings left behind. He was not a part of the Night’s Watch now, he’d realized some time ago, and he was free to take a wife if he saw fit to. But would he be willing to take one and then set off for battle? Would he feel right leaving her to bear his child only to die the next day?

Jon knew now, in the quiet stillness of the village, was both not the time to think of these things and the perfect opportunity to allow his mind to wander. Perhaps he’d allow himself a moment’s rest before he decided on anything.

At Anaris’ next question, he turned to her with a bright grin and nodded a few times. “I am,” he told her softly. “I’ll admit…I am a bit nervous that, with everything that’s happened, that he’s changed,” he added, grin faltering for a moment before it found it’s place on his features once more. “But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see me. I think he’ll need me in a time like this.” He glanced around for a moment, noting they had quickly reached the other side of the village. It wasn’t hard to spot the inn, with the hustle and bustle around it and a few horses tied to a post in front of a trough of water. He turned and guided them toward it, body aching and screaming for the comfort of a bed. The man shot Anaris a look at her next statement, brow furrowed slightly, though the grin still played on his features.

“They argued over that?” He questioned, wondering why someone would argue over who was more handsome; someone who was destined to be Lord Stark one day or a bastard. In Jon’s mind, titles were just as attractive to women as a handsome face. A quiet laugh left him as he shook his head, grin still effortlessly tugging at his features. He’d been smiling for so long now that his cheeks were beginning to ache a bit, though it was a welcome ache. “And who would you side with?” He found himself asked curiously as he tilted his head to the side a bit and his dark gaze found her’s.

Drogo was not able to help himself. His gaze dropped down her body, focusing on the thigh that was flashing just so from the hides that adorned her body. He looked back to her face, quirking a brow at her statement. He had grown used to her arguing with him. To have her agree so simply was a surprise. But then she continued, and it was by sheer will alone that he didn’t choke. He merely quirked a brow at her, refusing to look toward Qotho and instead allowing the briefest uptick at the corners of his mouth. “Joining me is fine,” was all he said. As much as he wanted to reply to her latter statement, he knew that nothing good would come of it. He would have been much too tempted to drag her back to his tent right then and there.

He watched the two of them, satisfied at Qotho’s reaction. The bloodrider - one of his fiercest - would not look her in the eyes. The man had felled innumerable warriors in battle, and there he was, finding it hard to look the woman in the eyes because of a mere statement. The bloodrider was smart, though. Khal Drogo had killed a man the other week for letting his gaze linger on Ayleth too long. He’d done it away from her, though, not wanting her to know that he’d killed a man merely for looking. It was hard for him to guess as to whether she would be pleased by his actions, or angered by them.

“Would there be a reason for them to shed blood over you?” He questioned, nodding slow. He did not know why she had left her people. He didn’t even know if it had been forced upon her, or by her own choice. What he did know, however, that men of Westeros only had one thing in their minds - power. If something could be gained of starting a war with the great khal, he had no illusions that they would use whatever excuse was the first to come by. His stomach twisted at the thought of the men being from her own lands. She’d said that she had been a khaleesi of her people. Surely they would start a war of great proportions to get her back. The thought concerned him. “If you say that, then I will believe you.” He didn’t add that he’d already had more than a couple of his warriors alerted to be on guard for anything to happen. There had been lesser men that had tried.

He gave Ayleth a nod before turning and starting towards the spot outside of their camp where they’d agreed to meet. It was a large enough group, around twenty or so men on stallions. They all had their swords in their hilts, but he would not trust them for a second. He glanced over to Qotho, who was eyeing the men up the same as Khal Drogo. “Do you trust them not to act, my khal?” The man questioned. Khal Drogo watched them carefully. Their backs straightened when they noticed that the khal was approaching, although the closer they got, more than a few of the men placed their hands against their hilts.

“I do not trust them at all. They have the look of green upon them,” he said, frowning as they stopped. The four men in front dismounted from their horses easily enough, although nowhere near the ease that the Dothraki had. He straightened his back, towering over the closest man easily. “What is your business here?” The man closest to him looked to their translator helplessly, as the rest craned their necks to see whoever was standing behind Khal Drogo. His stomach sank, and he prayed to the Great Stallion that none would recognize Ayleth if they saw her.

---

There was something in his gaze as he looked to Anaris that made her duck her head. She felt like she was missing something, something important. He’d mentioned her possible death if they were caught, and wondered if he’d been worrying about that. If that’s what had kept him from relaxing. But that wouldn’t make sense - not to her, anyway. There were so much bigger things to worry about, like the war and meeting up with his brother. He’d said that he’d grown to care for her. The question she found herself asking was just how much. “Well then,” she began, at a loss for words. Had she been callously pushing away his worry in a feeble attempt to make him feel better? A prick of guilt stabbed at her chest. “It sounds like you deserve a bed to sleep in this evening,” she said, leaning against him for a moment. She allowed herself a moment longer and then pulled away from him, arm still in his.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. How could he not?” She asked, offering him a smile. She could feel the selfishness digging at the back of her mind, wanting to rear its ugly head once more. But she resolved to let it bother her no longer. If they only had a mere handful of days left, she would not let them be ruined by her own feelings. They would spend their next days as they had been, trudging through the woods and talking for most of the time. The only difference between the nights before and that moment was that they had a nice, warm bed to look forward to for the evening. “He will need you in a time like this. He’ll need his brother,” she said, her voice soft. She looked forward, a grin alighting on her features at the sight of an inn. Maybe the Gods were taking it easy on them, a calm before they were ripped apart.

“Of course they argued over that. They were young and they were girls, and you two were - were handsome.” She shook her head at the memories starting to flood her mind. The girls, grinning and laughing and shrieking as they teased each other over who was the most attractive. Quite a lot of the girls chose Jon, despite his title of bastard. They’d giggle and swoon as he’d walked past with his siblings, giggles getting louder when he so much as looked in their general direction. She smirked up at him, knowing her answer the second he asked the question. “Oh, your brother Robb. His hair was just… Wonderful,” she said, letting out an over exaggerated sigh as she started to laugh. “Although, that beard on you is starting to grow on me.”

Anaris tugged him forward towards the inn, a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. The prospects of a bed and food and maybe even some ale was making her more happy than she’d thought she’d be. She refused to let go of his arm, secretly enjoying the feeling of them acting in such a way. She stepped up the few stairs, offering a woman at the railing a faint smile before pulling the door open and stepping inside. It was darker in there, and a good deal warmer as well. She looked over to Jon and grinned, giddy with excitement.

“Are we getting food or a room first?”

The reaction Ayleth had received from Khal Drogo brought a crooked grin to her lips, eyes slipping over him slowly as he replied to her. She tilted her head to the side slightly before her eyes shifted back over to Qotho. He still had his eyes directed at anything but her and it had her a little curious. Certainly a people as open as the Dothraki—who sometimes took their women in plain view—would not be so affected by a simple comment as the one she had made. Surely, more racy comments had been made around these men before. Perhaps it was the fact that she was very clearly the khal’s. That had to have been it.

Her eyes slipped back over to Khal Drogo as he spoke, expression going blank as she drew in a deep breath of air through her nose. Her parents had both made it clear that they did not wish to ever see her face again, so there was no chance the men that were visiting today had come to claim her. Certainly, word had not reached Westeros that she had been “captured” by the Great Khal. Even if it had, she couldn’t think of anyone there for her that would be concerned enough to wage war to get her back. Her eyes lifted from where they had fallen to rest on the ground as she thought back to the khal. “No,” she replied simply and quietly, shaking her head a bit, “They will be more likely to think I am to shed their blood first.”

She figured that was a fair enough answer without giving away too much. Ayleth knew she would have eventually tell the khal of the reason she was exiled to Essos, but it was something best said in private and when there weren’t visitors just arriving. Refocusing the tumultuous thoughts of her mind, she followed behind the khal and his bloodrider. She felt a bit naked without her blades, but she knew that she wasn't completely unarmed—she only looked like she was and that was a great advantage to her. Still, she would have preferred her swords. Ayleth had been through enough this day without having to deal with close-quarter fighting.

Keeping just out of direct eye-line from the men, she took them in slowly. She couldn’t see any banners of Houses she’d studied in Westeros, but why would they fly them in Essos where they would have no meaning to the horse-lords. There weren’t too many of them, but they were all armed to the teeth. She was certain the khal’s men outnumbered them, but there was a certain tense atmosphere that had an unfamiliar uncertainty rushing through her. However, she let none of it show, leveling her chin as she stopped behind the khal. There was a certain unease the men had about the Dothraki, she could tell. These Westerosi men were not of the same cut as the Dothraki, and she knew only but a few of them had seen a horse-lord before.

She did not recognize any of the men as the khal greeted them, which both calmed her but put her on edge. Ayleth did not know how they fought or if they had a distinctive motive to their visit outside of power. Steeling herself, she stepped out from behind the khal to get a better look at the men and let them see that she was present and unafraid. Murmurs broke out amongst the men, a few of them eyeing her lack of clothing hungrily but a few looked uncertain at the presence of a woman at a meeting such as this. A few, particularly the ones that had dismounted from their horses, looked an even amount of amused and disgusted at the sight of her. She was immediately reminded of just how much Westerosi men doubted and looked down upon women. It set a fire within her and she was certain if any one dared comment, she would make sure they knew the error of their logic.

---

“We both deserve a bed to sleep in, Anaris,” Jon replied softly, offering her a small smile. They’d both lost family members. They’d both been surviving on their own for nearly the same amount of time. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been through the same amount of turmoil and cold and restlessness. He felt a warmth rush over him at the feel of Anaris leaning against him, heart taking up a rapid beat in his chest. She’d been this close to him before when she’d slept against him, but something about her being awake while doing it was very different. He swallowed hard, smile falling away as she pulled back slightly.

Jon paused for a moment when Anaris mentioned Robb being unable to be happy. He frowned a bit, sighing heavily. “I suppose he wouldn’t really be upset for me leaving the Night’s Watch as it’s under the crown…essentially,” he murmured quietly, trying to think it all through. Finally realizing that it would do no good for him to worry about something that had not yet transpired. “I’m sure at the very least he would not send me back to them. I’m honestly too tired to worry too much about if he’ll have a negative reaction at this point,” he finally said, shaking his head as he carded a hand through his wildly curly hair. It felt unwashed against his fingertips and he knew that a bath would be a much welcome amenity should the inn providing a basin for them to wash.

A loud laugh left him at the idea that young girls used to argue amongst themselves over the two of them and he shook his head in response. “I suppose I should be flattered…but…arguing? Over us?” He sounded a bit confused as to why young girls would waste their time doing such a trivial thing. Then again, he supposed they had nothing better to do with their time. He turned to look over at her suddenly at her next comment, a furrow forming slightly in his brow as his gaze traced over her features. Even though she’d said the comment so jovially, he couldn’t help by to feel a little…hurt, was it? No, he felt mildly jealous at the fact that Robb had seemed to catch Anaris’ eye. Though, at the mention of his beard and how it’d started to grow on her, he felt the jealousy ease off, just a bit. “Really? I was hoping to be able to shave it,” he murmured quietly, dragging his fingertips along the underside of it.

When they stepped into the inn, the warmth that surrounded them was welcoming and he drew in a deep breath of air. His cheeks tingled from going from the slight cool breeze on the outside to the heat from the fires within. Jon glanced over to her for a moment and grinned at the look she was providing him. Giving her question some thought, he glanced around. Though his mind was telling him sleep was more important, it would be no use to try and go to bed on a nearly empty stomach. “Let’s get some food first, perhaps an ale or two, if they is any, and then we’ll inquire about a room,” he said with a nod, leading her into a small tavern-like room.

The inside was fairly empty, as it was still the middle of the day, but the woman behind a bar perked up when her eyes landed on the two of them. She gave them a nod of her head in acknowledgement as Jon lead the two of them over to a small table off to the side of the room. He was thankful for the sound of the crackling fire beside them as his stomach gave a poignant grumble as if it knew it would be fed soon. Slowly, he let his grip on Anaris’ arm relax, taking her hand in his for a moment as he looked down at her with a small grin. The woman behind the bar was quick to step over to the two of them.

“How can I be of service? You two look weary of the road,” she pointed out, placing her hands on her hips as she divided an almost motherly look between the two of them.

As much as Khal Drogo desired to turn around, he did not. The murmurings of the men spoke enough for him, and he presumed that Ayleth had stepped out from behind him. The men from Westeros were obviously uncomfortable with her presence there, although he was unable to gather whether it was because they knew of her and her skill, or if it was merely the presence of a woman. “Try not to shed their blood today. The omens are not in our favor for battle,” he said, speaking to all of his men, but mainly meaning for Ayleth to hear. While he admired her passion and anger, he did not need a fight to break out. His men were more than ready, but the time was not right. He blinked at the man before him, who was remaining silent. “Well?” He barked. He was not in the mood to have his time wasted.

The man in front finally spoke, and Drogo could only pick out a couple of words. It occurred to him that that day, he had the benefit of Ayleth being there. The Westeros men might not have been sure whether or not she could speak the common tongue. If their translator lied to them, she would know. “He says that they have come to discuss a possible treaty, my khal,” the translator said, glancing nervously between his leader and the khal. “He would like to join your warriors with his army to overtake a king in Westeros.” The khal blinked at him before glancing to Qotho. The bloodrider stared back at him, impassive.

They would not join his army with the men of Westeros. Assuming that over forty thousand warriors would join their army was ridiculous. “Do they require all of my men?” Drogo inquired. The translator repeated the words, and the man in front nodded. He chattered some more, and Khal Drogo only understood one word that was said. Khaleesi. He hoped that Ayleth would stay her hand.

“He says that yes, he would require all of them. Their foe is great, and they need a great army in order to defeat them. However, he has offered up a woman to be your khaleesi in return. She is quite beautiful, and would gladly bear you a son.” Drogo tried his hardest not to show his distaste for that offer. Even if Ayleth was not to be his khaleesi, offering all of his men for a woman in return was an offensive offer.

“Do you think so little of me that that is what you would offer?” Khal Drogo began, scowling at the men. “You will not get all of my men, not for all the wares you could provide my people. You can get five thousand men if you provide me with a better return than a woman.” He wanted to continue on, to say that he had already chosen his khaleesi, but it would do no good in that situation. It was better to have the marriage ceremony performed, and then announce her new title. “If you cannot, then you have wasted my time and the time of my men.”

---

“Which means we’re both sleeping in it tonight,” Anaris said, taking care to keep her voice soft. It would be odd that a newly-wedded couple would be debating on who got to sleep in the bed that night. The thought of them both sleeping in it made her stomach twist. It took her a moment to realize just what the feeling was - excitement. There was a warm rush of excitement running through her veins, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. She’d been told from a young age that women weren’t truly supposed to have lustful urges. That they were supposed to bed their husbands and have their children. A part of her felt guilty over her feelings, but another part of her, the excited part of her, wanted to indulge in them. Being around Jon made her happy, and she didn’t want to sully that.

She just shook her head at him, wishing she could do more to comfort him. “Truly, I think he’ll just be relieved at the sight of a familiar face. The two of you have been through a lot.” She noted the slope of his frown and nudged her elbow against his side lightly. Jon and his brother had been through too much at their young ages. They should have been off doing other things than starting a war and losing their father. “If he does have a negative reaction, then we leave,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “We’ll go find your siblings ourselves and go from there.” The thought of leaving him to his own devices didn’t even occur to her. In that moment, if she could have, she would have gone to war with him.

His laugh made her grin even wider. “What else were we supposed to do? Doing the wash took awhile, and we were all just sitting around. Besides, you two were quite handsome,” she grinned. Her gaze slipped over his, finding it hard not to laugh at the look on his face. He almost looked jealous. The thought made her insides warm. Was he jealous that she’d thought his brother was the more handsome? She took another moment, her eyes following the movement of his fingertips as he ran them against his beard. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you clean-shaven,” she murmured softly. “And, you know, you asked me who I would have sided with then. You didn’t ask about now.”

Anaris gave a nod of her head at his words, although she was too distracted as he took her hand in his. It felt as though it was burning, but the kind of burning that felt nice. She didn’t want him to let it go. She glanced up to him, heart flipping at the sight of his grin. Gods, she wished they weren’t so close to his brother’s army. Or even, she wished that none of this was going on. That they’d met in Winterfell and she was able to express her emotions to him. But that wasn’t their reality. So instead, she turned to the woman, letting out a soft laugh.

“Weary is one word to use,” she answered, smiling at her. “We were hoping for some food, and a room, if it’s available?” She paused, looking to Jon and offering him a fond look, pretending to be a newlywed. It almost concerned her how it easy it was to look at him like that. “And maybe some ale, if there is any?” She looked back to the woman and grinned. “I’m sure this one needs it.”