Dragons and Wolves

Sansa’s hands flew up to grip the hand over her mouth, her heart thumping madly in her chest.

“I can’t do this any longer little bird,” The Hound groaned, the scent of sweet wine heavy on his breath, he was on top of her, pressing her further into her silken sheets. She stilled and they stayed, him on top of her, for a moment. He sighed and let her go, moving off of her bed.

She hadn’t been asleep that long, her fire still burned in the corner, the cracking cinders cast a pale red glow in her room.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I scared you,” He sat in her desk chair, almost too big to fit in it, it groaned under his weight, “I don’t know what I was thinking…”

Before she could stop herself she replied, “It’s okay, it just reminded me of that night, the battle of
Blackwater.”

“That makes me feel worse, I was horrible to you,” He slurred, her eyes went wide in shock. The Hound was unapologetic and mean. Who was this man? Was it the liquor speaking?

“It-it’s quite alright, I should’ve just gone with you, Joffrey’s beatings, the marriage to Tyrion Lannister, Littlefinger’s—err abuse, wouldn’t have happened if I had just listened to you,” Sansa whispered, she shuddered at the thought, not sure why she was sharing these things with him, she hadn’t even felt comfortable enough to tell her brother Jon of what had happened to her. The only fond memories of those times was Tyrion’s kindness to her. And Joffrey’s death of course.

“I wish I would’ve killed Joffrey for the things he did to you, it still haunts me,” The Hound put his head in his hands, as if reading her mind.

“The past is in the past,” Sansa whispered, telling herself more that him, she crossed her arms and rubbed her upper arms with her hands, squeezing them around herself, “You were just doing your duty.”

“It’s never okay to beat a woman, if I was a man of honor I would’ve done something,” The Hound shook his head, his hands still covering his face.

“You would’ve gotten yourself killed,” Sansa sighed, pausing for a moment, “Is that why you came here and to pledge fealty to House Stark? Because you felt guilty about the past? You have no reason to; I harbor no grudge against you.”
He snickered in his hands, “Want to get rid of me that badly ehh?”

“N-no, I-I just uh—don’t want you to feel badly,” Sansa wasn’t sure why she cared but for some reason she did.

“I’ve over stepped my bounds already tonight, appearing in the private quarters of lady—in her bed even, uninvited too,” He sighed, “What’s one more transgression? I came back because I wanted to see you because ever since Joffrey had your father killed and I saw you almost push him off the castle ledge and stand up to him, threaten that your brother Robb would behead him, I haven’t been able to get you off of my mind.”

“Master Clegane—“ She started but the Hound shushed her with a wave of a calloused hand.

“I’m not done, I know I disgust you, my face, my temperament and the fact that I’m seven years older than you. You could never look past these things, I’ve come to terms with that over the years, imagining finding you.”

She had thought him to be far older than her, probably due to the burns.

Sansa stared in shock as he continued, “In my darkest dreams I imagined being the one to rescue you and bring you home and being rewarded, becoming a Stark bannerman and having you married off to me as a reward. I’d imagine becoming those heroes you used to sing about and making you fall so deeply in love with me you wouldn’t care about my face. And then I heard you were back home, brought back by Brienne of Tarth, I knew any shred of hope of that was gone, I convinced myself that I could come here and just watch you from afar. But I can’t, I heard you speaking to Jon about arranging alliance marriages for you and Arya today and I couldn’t stand the thought.”

Before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet, he kept his head in his hands as she approached. His good eye widened at her in shock as she pressed her lips to his scarred mouth.

--

Daenerys had never felt so free. No longer crushed under the pressure of male influence or war, she flew all over the world.

First she flew east, flying over the Red Waste that had nearly killed her right after Drogo’s death, this time she flew over with ease. Its stunted trees and ancient ruins weren’t as forbidding as they were in her memories.

She then flew further southeast, towards the Jade sea, even greener than Rhaegal, the small sea seemed to glow in the warm Essos sunlight, they stayed there for weeks, catching fish with emerald scales and hot pink sea shells. They then went east into the Saffron straits, it stretched on for thousands of miles covered in only purple and red flowers with no other living creatures in sight, she braided the fragrant blossoms in her hair and made Rhaego begrudgingly wear a garland of them around his neck.

They stopped going eastward when they entered the fringes of the Shadow Lands, a land forever cloaked in half light, covered in grass that was probably twice her height. It reminded her of Drogo, who had once told her that the Shadow Lands grew Ghost grass that was formed from the damned souls of people. Dany landed and kept some of the tall grass. Refusing to touch it with her hands, she covered her hand in ripped clothe and tied it up, the grass was said to give people visions and that it could even drive people mad, she never knew if or when it would come in handy. Her dragons restless and refusing to travel any further into the wasteland, Rhaegal carried her south.

Further south, they came upon the Manticore Isles, covered in the monstrous creature that her Valyrian ancestors feared and worshipped in ancient times. With the tail of a scorpion, body of a lion and startling human-like heads the Manticore were a frightening species. With a pang in her heart, she remembered Jorah showing her markets in Vaes Dothrak that sold bottled Manticore poison and even sold dead ones. That day had been fun, marching into Vaes Dothrak with her husband and his blood riders, before dragons, before all of the death... before she was alone.

They flew over the Manticore Isles unhindered, the creatures fearing her massive dragon and her quickly growing youngest, the creatures flew low over their forest covered home.

They soon reached the edge of Essos and went even further south, into the largely unexplored Sothoryos, the very bottom edge of their world. Passing over the ruin covered Isle of Tears, Rhaegal quickly led them into the desolate continent.

Dany landed on the Northwest coast and came upon the kindliest group of people she had ever encountered in all of her journeys. They called themselves the Nathi and they were a musical people.

It was never quiet in their villages and Dany thought for a while to stay there forever. She quickly came to love the nonstop music and their vegetarian life style, they spun clothing out of giant spider silk and made her the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen. They tattooed her hands, back and stomach with barely there silver henna, intricate designs and symbols that represented her life that only showed in fire light, trailing from the tips of her fingers to her wrists and braided blue and purple flowers into her pale hair.

She had been with them for months, learning how to grow and harvest their exotic fruits and learning to play their instruments when her urge to explore came back. Drogo would’ve been proud, it was as if she was becoming a Dothraki, the urge to keep moving and wandering eating her up inside. Years on the run had made staying in one place uneasy. But in the back of her head she knew she wanted to journey northwest, missing a certain Commander she had begrudgingly befriended for reasons beyond logic.

With sorrow in her heart, she left the Nathi and went Northwest. Before reaching the wall, Dany stopped in Skagos, a strange land with stranger people that seemed utterly independent from the Seven Kingdoms, even though she knew they were under Stark fealty. The men rode strange goat-like animals with a single horn in the middle of their foreheads, they called them unicorns. Baby Rhaego, who was as big as a horse now, grown strong eating the giant spiders and intoxicating fruits of Naath, took a great liking to the taste of the strange creatures.

To appease him, Dany stayed in Skagos for a time. She never grew to like it, it rained endlessly and the people were little more than cannibals and rapists, just as the books at the Red Keep had said. Men of Skagos, came to her small camp many nights, trying to kidnap her but Rhaegal managed to keep them all away. After two weeks of letting Rhaego hunt his unicorns, Dany couldn’t take any more of the island and finally she journeyed to the wall.

--

Five months had passed since Jon had received Aegon’s threatening letter and he was starting to think his ragtag group of crows, wildlings and Stark bannermen was starting to look like an actual army. They trained night and day, under the tutelage of himself, the Hound, Arya and even Brienne of Tarth who had journeyed to the wall with her squire after learning of Aegon’s uprising.

While the Stark army seemed to be getting along well, the Starks themselves were in shambles. Arya seemed restless and easily agitated (well, more so than usual Jon mused) and Jon wondered if it had anything to do with the blacksmith he had met in King’s Landing. He had very little correspondence with Bran, whose letters were short and quick and talked only of his Alchemical research and nothing about coming home. Rickon was pushing himself too hard, struggling to get as strong as possible before the impending war and Jon knew he was well on his way to becoming a better swordsman than him. Sansa was more withdrawn than usual and according to both Val and Brienne of Tarth, she seemed to be hiding something. And Jon himself wasn’t faring any better than his siblings, he thought with time memories of the dragoness would fade but it seemed to be true what people said, absence made the heart grow fonder. It seemed he’d space out often, replaying their conversations in his head, closing his eyes and seeing her pale face.

He felt ridiculous, it seemed like a boyhood crush, a silly infatuation with no rhyme or reason, no logic behind the attachment. The queen hadn’t given any signs of mutual attraction, no reason to get his hopes up. But nonetheless, he couldn’t erase her from his mind and his family’s quiet concern and Val’s lectures weren’t doing anything to stop it.

--

Jon rose from another night of restless sleep and dressed as quickly as possible and ran from his chambers. As was becoming his habit, he’d wake before the sun rose and run the surrounding forest with Ghost, hoping to exhaust himself into getting more sleep.

Despite the early hour, Rickon was already up practicing with his sword, Shaggy laying in the snow just out of blade’s reach. He nodded to his brother and the younger nodded back but neither spoke, they had an understanding that they had things to do and no time to make small talk.

Jon and Ghost darted through the trees with ease that only wolf-like senses gave them. Jon ran until the sun was high in the gray sky and his advisors were sure to be looking for him and getting frustrated. Drenched in an uncomfortable icy sweat, Jon slowed his pace and stopped at a frozen lake.

Leaning against a cold tree, Jon breathed deeply, forcing air back into his lungs. His runs weren’t working, the more he ran, the more he got used to running and a good night’s rest still eluded him.

The Hound had noticed and suggested he take up drinking, joking that it had always worked for him but Jon had no interest in spirits. He closed his eyes for a moment but the familiar sounds of wings beating against the wind drew him from his thoughts. His eyes widened, his eyes scanning the sky, he found what he was looking for, a bright green dot in the light gray sky.

Daenerys had arrived at the Wall.