A few days later
"There's a raven from Greywater Watch with the seal of Prince Stark." His Hand announced and Ghost perked his ears and studied the human carrying a basket. Satisfied that all was in order, his wolf put his head back on his front legs, closing his eyes once more.
Jon accepted the raven from Davos and opened it with alacrity. He held it up so Dany and he could read it at the same time. A smile appeared on his face and he summarized the contents out loud for Davos' benefit. "Uncle Ned has set out for Winterfell. He hopes to be there in less than a fortnight. He writes that Bran is well and that he has given permission for an excursion to the Wall and will keep the knowledge from his wife. Lord Reed will send out Bran's prewritten messages at regular intervals. Oh, he also formally approves of my proposal to let my cousin Sansa and Lord Dayne correspond with short messages under my supervision. The only condition he insists upon is that they limit it to once a moon and keep it under wraps so Sansa will not be compromised and all options remain open."
Jon read on in silence for a while before he looked up again. "All is well in the Riverlands and Lady Ilsa's marriage will take place six sennights after Lord Hoster Tully's burial." Jon paused to make a quick calculation. "That would be day 125 of my reign. That's twenty days from now. Should I send a delegation to attend? Perhaps Dany might want to go?" Jon turned his head to hear her answer but Davos beat him to it.
"I'd advise against either of you attending, son. It would be an enormous endeavour to send ample protection with you and I don't think Ser Gerold will allow you to take the Queen and fly there on your dragons without a proper escort at Riverrun to guard you. Do not forget, you have not yet consolidated your rule. As long as there is no stability, you can't in good conscience be making pleasure trips. The situation in the Stormlands is volatile. Your enemy could profit twofold from such a journey. Either you make yourself vulnerable on the road, or he uses the fact that you are away from the capital to strike. And I don't think either of you will like it if the other attends on his or her own." Davos added diplomatically knowing that Daenerys wouldn't want to miss a fertility cycle.
"We'll send a beautiful wedding gift and our congratulations. Lady Ilsa will be disappointed though." Regret shone through Daenerys' voice.
"Not half as much as Princess Catelyn when her royal kin is not in attendance. I am surprised that she agreed to hold the wedding while still in deep mourning." Jon frowned. "Uncle Ned explains that she intends to return to King's Landing shortly after the wedding feast."
"I guess she misses her daughters." Dany remarked.
"More likely life at Court." Davos muttered and Dany raised her brow.
Jon shook his head but the edges of his mouth curled up slightly. "And here I thought you were supposed to teach us to behave, not the other way around."
"I'm sorry," the playful expression on the older man's face belied his words. "It is just, nobody of your immediate circle is fooled by her motives. Still, speaking the words out loud was out of line."
"We are in private, Davos. And I was just teasing. I think you just took Dany and me by speed or it would have been one of us mocking our Aunt's motives."
Dany made a show to act offended. "Speak for yourself, Aegon! Us females are much more circumspect. I would have phrased it in such a way that you would not have been sure whether I insulted or complimented your dear Aunt Catelyn."
"Now you scare me, my dear." Jon grinned and playfully tapped her nose. Then his expression grew serious again. "Perhaps we should focus back on the future bride and groom's disappointment. What if Dany sent a personal letter to Lady Ilsa, promising her that we, the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, will visit Riverrun as soon as all the Kingdoms are at peace." Jon offered.
"As a part of your grand Tour?" Davos interjected.
"Better not present it in that way when you answer though." Jon advised Dany. "It makes our promised visit less special. For now, let us try to keep the disappointment of the bride and groom to a minimum. This should be a happy time for the soon to be wedded couple." He kissed Dany's cheek chastely.
"I see you carry more messages, Davos?" Dany gestured to the small basket that Davos carried. He held it low enough that several scrolls were easily spotted."
"Indeed. I encountered Maester Pylos in the hallway. He gave me several messages addressed to King Aegon, the Sixth of his Name. One from Robb, that's the rather thick one. One from Castle Black, another from Sandor, a short one from Prince Oberyn, Yara Greyjoy wrote one as well. That one I opened. She writes that the first trade missions have been a success and that the seeds they sowed earlier are sprouting. She fears she is needed on Pyke and has to tour the other Islands as well to check whether the planting she ordered has been done correctly and the fields are managed properly. Consequently she will not be able to come to the capital within the stated period of six moons. She begs for your forbearance. She stipulates that you are always welcome to visit Pyke though."
"When peace reigns, we will." Jon looked at Davos. "I don't mind that she is not coming here shortly. I am inclined to trust her. What is your opinion?"
"That she needs to change her houses words. She does sow now." He chuckled when he noticed that the royal couple could appreciate his attempt at a joke. "I only met her briefly once and most of the things I know about her are through your accounts, son. That said, the decrees she signed are rather watertight and if we can believe what she writes, she is accomplishing no small feat. She is effectively steering the Ironborn away from their old ways and they are attempting to make an honest living for the first time in ages. We've not had a single report from the west coast either south or north that Ironborn loyal to Lady Greyjoy have been raiding. So I am inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, you have more urgent matters than one Ironborn Lady who is too busy setting her Kingdom straight to come to King's Landing. She has already sworn allegiance to you. The way I see it, the only reason that she needs to come all the way over here is to satisfy some gossiping nobles by dropping to her knees in front of you for the whole court to witness. Some will mock here speech and comment on her tiniest gesture and disapprove of her outfit. That reason somehow does not seem good enough to me anymore to enforce the six months' term in her case."
"I wholeheartedly agree with Davos. Do not forget that she owes her current status as ruler of the Iron Islands to you, Aegon. She has not given you any reason to doubt her loyalty. Besides, there are not that many nobles left in King's Landing to put on a show for anyway." Dany observed.
Jon smiled at her. "You agree with Davos who agrees with me. Why don't you just come out and admit that you agree with your King and husband who is always right." His tone was teasing and he grinned when she turned her face sideways so their noses almost bumped together. He stole a quick kiss before he turned his attention back to Davos who was smiling indulgently at them both. "Any other scrolls we need to discuss right now?" Jon asked.
"One by the hand of Princess Catelyn. I gather that will be the formal invitation to her brother's wedding. That's it, your Graces." Davos had trouble keeping a straight face. Jon was glad the old man didn't begrudge them the small displays of affection they shared in his presence. He was much more lenient than Ser Gerold on the matter.
"I did bring the list with supplies for the army." Davos continued and Jon went back to paying attention to his Hand's words. "If you look them over you will reach the conclusion that the food supply has all been organised. We will need extra barrels to transport clean water though. The ones we still had in the royal storage facilities are in poor condition. I already sent word to the cooperage in Flea Bottom. They will welcome the order to restore some of them and fabricate new ones to replace those that are beyond repair." Davos put the small basket on the desk. Jon looked longingly at it, eying the scroll written by Robb.
Davos coughed. "The rest of my news it not that urgent and will keep till tomorrow's briefing. With your permission, I'll leave so you can read the personal messages in peace."
"I'll bring the one from the Lord Commander at Castle Black and Sandor's message with me to the private dining room when we reconvene for lunch. " Jon promised. "You can familiarize yourself with their content then, Davos."
"That's quite alright, son. Take your time. My Queen," Davos bowed slightly and left the room."
"How about I read the one from Sandor Clegane while you read Robb's?" Dany proposed.
"Robb doesn't write anything that needs to be kept from you, Dany." Jon put his arm around her shoulder. The both of them sat behind the large desk where they listened to the morning briefings. "Besides you will have to open all messages when I travel to the Stormlands. You will be able to show the small council and the Court that the Seven Kingdoms have two rulers who can take over from each other."
Dany frowned. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, Aegon, I won't be able to do as you ask. I will be travelling with you. I heard you plan to take both Rhaegal and Viserion with you when you join your army a few days before the actual parlay. I will ride Viserion."
"Dany, I want you to stay here and be safe." As if agreeing with his human, Ghost moved for the first time in a while. He approached Dany's chair and put his head in her lap.
Dany petted the wolf's white fur. Her expression lost none of its determination. Not distracted by Ghost's quiet demand for attention, she protested. "You wanted to show Stannis Baratheon your full strength. Two dragonriders send a clearer message than one. Also Bran told you …, you know."
"But what if you uh," Jon hesitated. He angled his chair so he kind of faced her and took both her hands in his. "What if you carry our first child inside of you by then?"
"In that case, it will depend on how far along I am and how healthy I feel. I promise to listen to the Maester's recommendations." When Jon's face relaxed she added. "But only if you in turn promise not to manipulate the Maester or straight out dictate to him what you want him to say to me."
Jon kissed her cheek. "We'll talk about this some more later."
"You can try. My mind is made up though. Only sickness can keep me from attending the parlay in the Stormlands. She released his hands and handed him the thickest scroll prominently featuring the seal of the Stark direwolf. Now read your letter from Robb."
Jon accepted the letter and looked into Ghost's eyes. He felt that his wolf was sympathetic to his plight. They both wanted to keep Dany safe. He relented for now and opened the scroll, anything to take his mind of the thought of having to take Dany to a potential war zone. He would need to speak to Davos, Ser Gerold, Uncle Benjen, perhaps also to Lady Ashara, in short to anyone who could possibly help him find arguments to change Dany's mind. Just the thought of the love of his life and possible the mother of his unborn first child flying headlong into danger, would keep him up at night.
***
A few days later
"Sam, are you busy?" Jon stood in the doorway of the library.
"Oh Jon, I didn't see you there." Sam made sure to put a marker on the page that he had been reading before closing the book. "Please come inside. I can continue this later. What can I do for you?"
Jon said a few words to Ser Loras and Ser Oswell who had followed him here and closed the door leaving them in the hallway. "I wanted to talk to you for a bit, my friend. I hardly get to see you outside mealtimes and council meetings."
"I know. I never realised helping you rule would be so time consuming. I hope things will get better when the wars are over and done with."
"But then you will be at the Citadel." Jon complained and sat down at the table facing his friend.
"I know. If only." Sam sighed. Then he studied his friend a bit closer. Despite Jon's belligerent tone he seemed animated. By absence of a better term, Sam would say that his entire body exuded positive energy somehow. "Is something the matter, Jon? You look like you have a purpose. You even seem uh excited."
"You know me well, Sam. I do have a purpose, one that might interest you. I might even succeed in separating you from this library for a few days in a row."
Not much could do that but Jon seemed confident so Sam's interest peaked. "Now that I would like to hear!"
"Remember how on Dragonstone we searched for that secret hiding place Maester Aemon mentioned in the letter that I found after his death?"
"Under the floor of his chambers, in that secret hiding place where he kept Blackfyre hidden for decades, of course I remember. We looked for it the first time we were together on Dragonstone. You made me promise not to continue the search without you." Sam frowned when he recalled how thorough a search they had conducted for days on end. "I thought we had reached the conclusion that it was a hopeless endeavour."
"I might have had a dream." Jon baited him.
"Like a vision? Jon, tell me you didn't uh," Sam looked embarrassed but also a bit worried.
"I didn't make another potion. I promised you I wouldn't ever again, Sam. In fact I promised you all. You with your perfect recall of every word I once told you surely remember that once upon a time I confessed to you that I am a bit of a greenseer by accident of birth, don't you? Not a powerful one, mind you, I mostly only see things related to House Targaryen's survival."
"Fair enough. Then am I right in presuming that you kind of dreamed where the secret hiding place on Dragonstone is located?"
Jon nodded. "I think so. I now belief that Maester Aemon never really saw it himself. My father must have described it to Maester Aemon in a letter. That's why his second hand account steered us wrong. In my dream, or better in that vision, Prince Rhaegar opens a hollow space behind a wall of the old nursery. If what I was shown is true, then we might find my father's diary containing his research on the prophecy of the Long Night and some rare books on the subject. We need to go to Dragonstone again, Sam. I can fly to the island with Dany but I'd like for you to be there waiting for me when we arrive. What would you say about leaving with my Kingsguard by ship a day before Dany and I fly to Dragonstone?"
"Do you really have to ask? Of course I will be there! And don't worry. I won't go exploring before you get there. I'm so grateful that you want me with you when you do this. When do you plan on leaving?"
"I have to discuss it with Davos and Ser Gerold first but soon, as soon as can be arranged actually."
"At least you are willing to take Daenerys with you on this trip." Sam remarked in a collect manner. Jon wasn't fooled though. His friend was studying is tiniest reaction.
"You take her side over mine?" Jon accused Sam, not hiding his surprise.
"I do in this instance. She has a right to join the parlay. You are always talking about ruling as equals but you sure do take a lot of decisions without her present and often treat her as a fragile being in need of your protection. I am surprised that she has not stood up to you more often."
Jon clearly hadn't expected this answer. "I uh, I don't, I didn't." He swallowed suddenly unsure. "Is that your perception of our dynamic?"
"Honestly, yes," Sam answered. "I see you making efforts at times but you often slip back into your Kingly mode overruling us all, including her as if it is your divine right."
Jon looked troubled. "But is it not normal for a man to want to protect his wife from harm? I love her dearly, Sam. I would blame myself if something happened to her because I put her in harm's way."
Now Sam was at loss for an answer. It took him a while to formulate a reply. "Perhaps you should discuss this with Davos. I do not know much about how spouses behave with each other in private or how differences of opinions are settled between them. I only know that you claim to be different from other men when it comes to evaluating the potential of women. But you are not honest with yourself if you believe that you are treating her entirely as your equal."
"Perhaps I was deluded and men and women are not equal. Not in all aspects. Men are stronger, physically I mean. That is a given. So women are more in need of protection than us. It is normal for strong men to fight on the front lines and for women to perform other vital tasks safely behind the scenes during war time." He looked at Sam hoping to get his friend to agree with him on that at least.
"Ruling is not always about physical strength, Jon. We were talking about ruling together, not physically combatting enemies. I agree that there are differences between men and women. It would be unwise to let her fight on the frontlines or leading an army in the thick of the fight on the ground. But then as our King, you would better stop doing that yourself. But that is another topic best left for another time. The point that I am trying to make here is that in circumstances where strength is not a factor, you should treat her as your equal, at least if you are a man of your word, which uh, I uh know that you are."
"No need to start being shy now, Sam. I truly want to hear what you think on the matter. I think you were about to tell me that I am a hypocrite. I am curious to hear your reasoning."
"I didn't mean, uh I don't. " Sam took a deep breath and suddenly the words rushed from his mouth. "For example during meetings when we are crafting solutions, or when you meet nobles or make declarations of any kind, you should make a conscience effort to include her and use the word we instead of I. But not only that, treat her as your equal and only declare a course of action after the two of you have reached a consensus."
Jon studied Sam closely, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Did she come to you to uh complain … about me?"
"No, Jon. She wouldn't do that. I have eyes you know and I'd like to think that I am not completely stupid." Sam gave him a tentative smile. "Do not get me wrong. I believe that you are a good husband and she obviously loves you to pieces. I am only giving you a slight nudge in the right direction to become an even greater one and to reach the goal that you so obviously set for yourself: co-ruling the Kingdoms wisely, with Daenerys as your Queen, not just as your consort."
Jon's eyes were moist when he spoke his next words. "I'll miss you, Sam. What will I do without you taking me to task, even if you do not dispose of all the facts and I don't entirely agree with your conclusions at times? What will I do when you are in Oldtown happily devouring all the books you can find there?"
"You'll have Dany, Davos and lots of others to guide you. We can write and I'll be back before you know it." Sam put his hand on the table between him. "We have a pact, or had you forgotten?"
"We have a pact." Jon covered his friend's hand with his callused palm. "And I will hold you to that. I'm glad you have postponed your departure until I leave for the North."
"Your welcome, Jon." Sam retrieved his hand. "Now that I have you in a grateful mood, can we talk about Dickon?"
"Am I such an ogre that you have to find an opportune moment to discuss your brother with me? I saw Dickon briefly this morning. He looked well enough."
"He is still here though." Sam remarked. "I have never known him to be away from father's supervision for such an extensive period of time. I have received a short word from father. The great Lord Tarly actually deigned to acknowledge my being here but only to use the situation to his advantage. He urges me to influence you to send Dickon back home."
Jon frowned. "Are you sure? Your father recently wrote to me that he is grateful that his heir is training under the tutelage of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Sword of the Morning. He considers it an honour that we give your brother this opportunity without forcing him to be sworn in. Have you talked with Dickon about your father wanting him home?"
"A few days ago. Dickon of course wants to obey Father, despite enjoying his stay here very much. He has made a few new friends and caught the eye of a few ladies as well."
"Ignore your father's letter, Sam. He wrote to me that Dickon was welcome to stay at court as long as I needed his presence. I'll show it to you. I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner."
"No, I apologize. I should have known that father was playing games. For all I know, he wants to drive a wedge between us."
"Which would be a stupid move. I thought he was a brilliant strategist?"
"He is, Jon. Don't underestimate his military prowess. He is a formidable force there. Politics on the other hand is not his thing. He is too rigid to be a diplomat. He is also way too bitter when playing that game. He still envies the Tyrells their standing and the Lannisters their goldmines. Did you know that we have a simulacrum of a gold mine on our lands? My great-grandfather almost bankrupted our house trying to exploit it. Father still dreams of being the one to find gold there."
That caught Jon's interest. "Have you ever visited this mine? Could it contain other natural resources than gold that can prove valuable? For example, I know that you southerners don't care much for black coal but the North would be willing to trade for it. And once winter comes around, the south could learn to use it to heat their keeps as well."
"Father never asked for my opinion and we weren't allowed to go near the mine when we were young. This mine has been there for generations. It will still be there when the dead are defeated. Perhaps at some point you can offer my father to send your experts to his mine to help out. If they do find something of value, my father will be forever grateful to you. Now," Sam's tone indicated that he considered that topic closed. "Anything else I can help you with?"
"Nothing more than what you are already doing. I hope you will be able to continue your research on the Long Night especially if we find that hiding spot on Dragonstone and perhaps knowledge on how to tame a dragon."
"You mean, ways for the enemy to steel a dragon? I've seen how confident Dany is riding Viserion now."
Jon sighed. "Not as well as we both would like. We are still trying to intensify her bond with him." He didn't elaborate further, keeping his promise to Dany.
"Then I promise to keep searching, Jon." Sam said. "Perhaps we will also find more on the Targaryen's affinity with fire."
"I pray that such is the case." Jon relaxed his pose stretching his legs out before him and crossing them. "So, Dickon and the ladies?" He asked his friend casually.
Sam nodded. "Well to be quite honest. Several ladies are vying for his attention but my brother only ever had eyes for one. He has from the first time he started developing an interest in girls. Nothing I said, or none of the pretty ladies he encountered since then can get him to forget his first crush and focus on courting the ones who won't refuse him."
"Now you have really captured my attention. Pray tell?" Jon asked and listened carefully as Sam launched into a long explanation starting with his brother's childish infatuation that had slowly blossomed into a hopeless love for a Lady whose hand had been refused to him. He told them how their respective fathers had discussed the matter without his brother's knowledge and of Dickon's disappointment at hearing about this years after the fact. Lord Randyll of House Tarly had formally requested Lady Margaery of House Tyrell's hand in marriage. He had asked this on behalf of his younger son, Dickon who would inherit the Tarly lands since his older brother had other wishes and ambitions. The Tyrells had not been polite in their refusal, stating coldly that their precious Margaery would marry nothing less than a Prince.
***
That same evening
"You have circles under your eyes. Did you not sleep well last night, my husband?" Dany sat on their loveseat. Jon always enjoyed their private time after supper. Ghost for once hadn't joined them tonight. His direwolf was out hunting.
"Not as well as usual," Jon conceded. He angled his body slightly so he could study her face a bit better. "Are you happy with me, Dany?"
She turned her body as well and tucked her feet under her, so they faced each other. "What a strange question is that? I am very happy that I married you. You know that. In that we are blessed by the Gods. I am troubled with the political situation and also scared of what threatens our Kingdoms in the North. I wish there was more I could do to help you there."
"You are not disappointed with the way we are ruling together? Are there things you would like to change and have not told me?"
Dany put her hand against his cheek. "Aegon, where is this coming from? Was that the reason that you slept badly. Are you doubting yourself, or are you doubting me?"
"Myself," he admitted. "I am doubting myself and no it had nothing to do with last night's rest. Let me tell you the reason for that first. I had a vision and was too excited making plans to fall asleep again."
She relaxed and returned her hand to her lap. "Tell me."
"Fancy a trip to Dragonstone in a day or two, maybe three?" He told her all he had told Sam that afternoon.
"I'd love to. Do you really think we might find out more about our ancestors and their dragons?"
"We might. Is it selfish that I am mostly excited about the possibility of finding out more about my father, your brother?" He added the last two words in a hushed tone. "But separate from all that, the prospect of strolling with you, either on the cliffs or along the beaches of Dragonstone will be more than worth the small trip."
"Flatterer!" She grabbed his hand. "Now you've stalled enough, Aegon. Tell me why you doubt yourself and are all of a sudden entertaining the thought that I am not altogether happy with you?"
"It has been brought to my attention that I am a bit of a hypocrite. How I always talk about ruling side by side but that I often revert to taking decisions without consulting you. Surely you must be disappointed by that sometimes?" Jon had his gaze fixed on a spot behind her the entire time he spoke.
"Aegon, look at me." She waited patiently until he complied. Her purple eyes met his, and she hoped that they conveyed her trust in him and would encourage him to believe in himself. "Don't take everything upon yourself. If you would have ignored my loud protests, I would have cause to be upset. But if I keep silent and let you continue going about things the way that you are, then I am partially to blame if I am not happy with how things are evolving. You are right that you regularly take decisions without consulting me. But those are things you know instinctively that I can agree with and you don't need to ask me first. If you are not certain, you bring the issue up in private with me. Often on this sofa, before we retire for the night. Others do not know this and the only thing I will concede is that they might perceive you as the sole ruler and me as the loving Queen standing at your side, supporting anything you say. But I know different. We know different. Think on it, Aegon. I have challenged you on a few occasions and you have listened to me and we worked out a compromise each time even if you were not altogether happy with the end result. Remember Lady Margaery?"
Jon grabbed her face with both hands. "I am such a fortunate man. What have I ever done to deserve you?"
"Kept your word and made an honest woman out of me? Made me your Queen, your equal and love me more than I ever thought possible." Dany tried to convince him.
He considered her words for a moment. "Then we must try and do better to project that image to the public."
"And you can start by heeding my wish. You will allow me to be present at the parlay with Lord Stannis of House Baratheon." Dany was quick to take advantage of his new resolve.
Jon sighed but to her surprise offered no further resistance and nodded. "If you are well and if you promise not to do anything that would increase the risk that you, that we are running. If you can promise me that, then I will not go against your wishes."
She gave him a tender kiss. "That was just the first stage of my thank you mission." She blinked her eyes seductively. "Can I entice you to join me on the royal bed, your Grace? You should let your Queen teach you there what true equality means. We will take turns being on top."
Jon swept her up in his arms before she had finished talking.
***
Interlude 47: Writing skills
"Fuck off, wife! Each time you fucking disturb me, it will take me that much longer to get this accursed task done! It's this or me leaving for days to travel to Castle Black and have the blond cunt of a Lannister finish this fucking message to the Dragonrider. Your fucking choice."
"Go fuck yourself!" Ygritte yelled back. "Don't expect me to cook dinner if you use the cooking pot for your stupid writing table. I thought you made one. Yesterday I had to take Tormund's son back to Moira because he couldn't sleep here with all the noise that you were making cleaving wood until it was too dark to see a cursed thing."
Sandor angrily picked up the pot and threw it at her. "Here's your fucking casserole, you stupid woman! That was something I fucking promised Orell. Our friend has been scouting so much lately that his wife and children were lacking wood for the fire. This is the third time you've fucking disturbed me! Now I'll never get this damned message finished before dark."
Ygritte had easily ducked the pot and her eyes roamed over her angry husband. They narrowed when they studied his large hands. "No wonder you can't do your scribbling thing. You can barely hold that skinny stick in your hands. Show me your right hand," she ordered in her brusque manner that always kind of turned him on.
Sandor bit back another curse word and held out his hand. Two wooden splinters were embedded in there that he hadn't been able to remove with his big clumsy fingers. They had indeed been plaguing him the entire time that he had tried to write the letters in a decent enough manner to make sure that his former charge on his fucking Iron Throne all the way down in stinking King's Landing would be able to decipher his words.
The Others won't take us all if this message gets sent out tomorrow, Sandor. Why not use my stool as a makeshift table for now. Just take care that you don't get any of that black stuff on it." She took a damp cloth and dropped to her knees so she was at eye-level with him. She immediately started cleaning his big hands efficiently and acted as if this was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. When she saw the raw red flesh where he had tried but failed to remove the wooden splinters himself, she cursed. "You must take care of these hands, dammit. Why didn't you ask for my help?"
"That is not our way," Sandor grumbled not wanting to show weakness in front of her. She had chosen him for his strength after all.
She hit his forehead with the palm of her hand. "Brainless man! How often must I tell you that in our tent, when no one overhears, anything goes. I'd rather have a husband with two functioning hands than a stuck-up, too-proud-for-his-own-sake one who fucking loses a hand because he is too stubborn to ask for assistance and allows such wounds to fester." She removed the first splinter with more force than needed and Sandor flinched but clenched his teeth and did not make a sound. "Fucking stupid southerner that I've stolen. Do you know nothing? I might as well have stolen a dimwit!"
Sandor deeply insulted by being called a dimwit, withdrew his hand. "Have it your way and fuck off already."
"You fuck off, this is my tent, remember!"
"My burnt friend, having your daily spat with the fair Ygritte, I see." Tormund's jovial tone interrupted their fight. Sandor looked up to see Tormund holding up the flap of their tent. His friend was not in the least troubled by the deadly stares they both threw at him. "I've come to rescue you, my burnt friend. I have a horn of my special brew with your name on it. Give your red minx some time to cool off. Always works with mine."
"Either enter or leave again but do not let the cold in." Ygritte commanded Tormund and without pausing for breath she snapped at her husband. "And give me that hand again. There is still another splinter that needs removing."
"What happened to keeping things between us?" Sandor protested but held out his hand all the same.
"Hah, Tormund knows exactly what your weaknesses are." Ygritte bowed over his hand to take a better look at the second splinter.
"That I do." Tormund grinned. "But his strengths as well. Can't find a better fighter than this one if you look past me, that is. Not since I taught him how to use an axe with his strong arms and there is no one better with a sword on this side of the Wall. And he is well on his way to becoming one of the better skilled archers of our settlement. Go ahead and throw him out, Ygritte. I dare you. Countless women in this settlement alone will fight each other to take him in. He won't be cold tonight but you will be."
"I wasn't throwing him out," she muttered calmer now. "Just winning the argument before you came barging in moments before he was about to cave."
"In your fucking dreams, woman." Sandor gave her a tentative smile, his tone now also more akin to bantering than arguing. "Tormund came barging in fucking moments before I intended to throw you on our bed and had you begging me to keep pleasuring you and to fucking never ever stop."
Tormund looked around trying to detect the source of the argument. It didn't take him long to spot the writing equipment that lay abandoned on the floor. "You're not complaining again that it takes him too long to scribble a message to my dear friend, the Dragonrider, are you? He must take his time writing about my beautiful son and all his accomplishments." He addressed Sandor now. "Did you include the part where he can roll from front to back and sit without support and all that while he is barely four moons old?"
"I have not gotten to that part yet. My fucking wife just hijacked my writing table." Sandor muttered.
"And offered him a substitute, thank you very much." Ygritte yanked the second splinter out of his finger. "Now let me wrap that up so the wound stays clean. And no more writing today. You can finish that message tomorrow. Tormund, take that big ouphe with you but see to it that he is not too drunk when he returns for his supper. He needs to make it up to me tonight. Make sure that he can still get it up or I'll have your hide."
"I'm not fucking going anywhere, wife. You can't order me around like a toddler. Tormund, get someone to look after your son and bring Moira over here later for supper. But give us some fucking time first, all right?"
"Are you sure you prefer that red minx's company over that large horn that I promised you?" Tormund mimicked drinking from his empty horn bottoms up.
Sandor's expression softened. "I do this time. Ask me again some other time, my giant friend, and I will gladly accept."
"All right then. 'Fucking time' I will grant you. Strength and stamina, burnt friend." Tormund grinned and left the tent.
"So now I need to cook for four?" Ygritte stood there with her legs spread and her arms crossed.
Sandor just hoisted her over his shoulders and threw her on the furs. "Silence, woman! There is a time for making up and a time for cooking. Do you know nothing? Do I have to show you once more how our relationship works? I'll help you cook later if you let me have my way with you now. It is time that I reminded you again why we fucking work. You are mine and despite all your yapping, I wouldn't trade you for another woman whether she fucking lives north or south of the Wall. Now lay back and let the entire settlement hear you scream my name in pleasure."
And Sandor did indeed convince his wildling wife why she had made the very best choice by stealing Sandor fucking Clegane before anyone else got the chance.
***
The next day, he used Ygritte's stool and finished the letter. He wrote how he had spotted the dead body of a child that had been buried in secret by mourning parents who couldn't deal with burning the little body, marching north and Sandor had been obliged to kill it and burn it to ashes. He had not told anyone this. He also mentioned the rumours that as far as Skagos, recently buried people were said to have risen from their graves and were attacking remote settlement at night. He mentioned that Jon would probably receive a thank you from the Skagosi for the dragonglass weapons that he had ordered to be shipped out to them with instructions. He informed him that he had asked the Commander at East Watch to send a delegation to Skagos to explain all that had happened at Hardhome in order to convince the Skagosi to burn all their dead from now on. Sandor had also seen to it that Belmore knew not to charge the Skagosi for the surplus of dragonglass weapons that he had made fucking sure were sent to Skagos along with the small delegation of Crows.
Yesterday he had already written briefly about the large pendulums that Lannister had fixed on several strategic places on the Wall to prevent the dead from climbing all the way to the top. He would write about the giant crossbows next time. He decided not to mention Mance Rayder's trouble with the Thenns. For now, there was only one missing Crow that they suspected to have been eaten by those cannibals. Not dire enough to trouble the young King with all the way in the South. He flexed his hand that was starting to cramp again.
Now he only needed to add a small mention about Tormund's son being in good health. Tormund wouldn't know the difference. Always when he read Jon's responses out loud at the large bonfire they held at least once a week, he could make his listeners believe whatever he wanted. He always made up a few extra sentences to placate Tormund. He knew that if his writing skills had been better and he would have written down all that Tormund wished him to, the responses that Jon faithfully sent in such elegant script would probably be similar to what Sandor pretended the messages to contain anyway. So he was not really being dishonest, just practical. Amongst the Free Folk he was admired for being able to read and write. Even as poorly as he mastered his letters, amongst the Free Folk, he was only second to Mance when it came to that skill.
He just added a greeting from Orell and signed the damned thing. His hand was cramping but the small bandages that Ygritte had needed to fix again after their rather violent coupling were still in place. A relieved sigh that he was done before she returned from her hunt passed his lips. Perhaps he would go out and find some wood to build a small table without her knowing. He could surprise her with it when it was finished. Ygritte liked surprises like that and Sandor above all things liked to please his woman.
*