Jon rode into the Winterfell courtyard next to Daenerys - closer than necessary, perhaps a little closer than advisable - but his queen might as well have been across the Narrow Sea for all the attention she had paid him since they had left White Harbor.

He knew that the idea of them keeping their distance was a logical one but that hadn’t made their separation any easier for him to bear. And, if it had just been that - the pair of them acting disinterested for the sake of appearances - then he could have coped with such cruel separation, but there was something more going on here. Dany was withdrawn, nervous … scared about something and, no matter how gently Jon had tried to ask her, she would not talk to him about what was on her mind. Would not allow herself to be alone with him at all.

‘It’s for the best,’ he thought, trying hard to convince himself. ‘We do have more important things to think about, after all.’

But all Jon seemed able to think about nowadays were the passionate nights they’d shared on the boat from Dragonstone to White Harbor; her soft skin under his fingers, her warm lips against his, the feel of her body wrapped around his and his name falling from her lips in delicious gasps. It had meant something to her, he knew that. It hadn’t just been some casual desire to get him into her bed. The way she had looked at him, the way she had whispered his name. What had happened since then to change her mind? What had Tyrion said to her? What could he do to get her back?

He shook his head at the last thought, knowing he was being foolish, knowing he was acting like a love-sick boy. But he was in love with her - desperately so - and he currently had no idea how to cope with the imminent war without Daenerys Targaryen by his side both emotionally and physically.

Their arrival in Winterfell’s inner courtyard allowed Jon to be happily distracted from his forlorn brooding. He spotted Sansa first - tall, regal and looking every inch the lady - and then Arya who ignored all etiquette and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his neck the moment he had dismounted. Jon laughed for the first time since being on the boat with Dany, spinning his sister around as if she were still a small child. But then it wasn’t just looks he shared with his favourite sibling as she too seemed set to remain smaller than average, allowing him to fling her around with ease, even now.

Sansa belatedly began her formal greeting to her guests only to be interrupted by another call of Jon’s name. He smiled again at the sight of his good friend Sam pushing a strange, wheeled chair in front of him but, before he had a chance to register Bran sitting in the contraption, before he’d even got close enough to note just how much his brother had changed, the young man spoke, his voice now deep and curiously void of emotion.

“I have grave news,” he announced to the whole courtyard. “The Night King has raised Queen Daenerys’ dragon from the dead and used him to destroy the Wall at Eastwatch. His army is now on this side and heading for Winterfell.”

Next to him, Daenerys gasped, and Jon instinctively grabbed her arm before she fell, the grief on her pale face quickly replaced by a rage which was truly terrifying to behold.

“No!” she shouted. “That cannot be. We cannot let him get away with this.”

“Dany,” Jon whispered as he held her, not caring who saw their intimacy. “Let’s get you inside. We’ll talk this through with a small group first and decide what is to be done.” He urged her forwards, no easy task with her so bundled up in furs that she seemed almost as wide as Sam, but then her knees suddenly buckled, despite his support, and she was soon bent over, crying out in apparent pain. “What is it?” Jon asked.

“I … I’m not sure I ...” She turned to look at him then, her eyes wide and full of real fear. “I do need to get inside but … just you and Missandei please, there’s something terribly wrong.”

“What is it?”

“Please, Jon.”

He nodded at her before raising his voice. “The queen is unwell. Please excuse us while we tend to her. Missandei?” The girl rushed forwards to take her other arm and Davos was also by his side, keen to lend his support. Dany cried out in pain again as they walked her towards the castle whilst Jon quickly made their excuses, asking Sansa and Arya to attend to things for the time being.

“Go and help them, Davos,” he said. “They’ll need your wit and clever words to help calm the Lords.”

“I will and ... I would not wish to intrude but, I have to know, I have to ask.” He turned to Daenerys. “ Your Grace, do you know what it is that ails you?”

“No … not really but ...” The queen was sobbing. “It can’t be possible, it just can’t! It doesn’t make any sense.”

They had finally reached the nearest guest chamber. Perhaps not the one Daenerys would have been assigned ordinarily, but it would have to do for now. Despite Dany’s initial request, Jon did not immediately send Davos away, figuring he would be a useful messenger if they needed to fetch the Maester or Sansa for any reason.

“I tried to persuade her to talk with you,” Missandei said to Jon then as the queen staggered towards the bed. “I urged her to but she made me promise not to say anything and…” The young girl looked even more terrified than Dany had earlier.

“What is it?” Jon strode quickly to the queen’s side then, “What’s wrong, my love?”

She had removed her fur coat, tears falling down her face and, with just one brief look at Davos standing by the door, she shrugged and turned sideways, running her hands down the front of her dress. Jon gasped.

“But that’s not … how is that possible?” She was pregnant. Very pregnant. Her stomach quite obviously swollen even through the thick, winter clothes.

“I don’t know,” Dany replied, her eyes wide and tear-filled, “but almost immediately after we took to the road I rapidly began to put on weight and … it made no sense. It can’t be much more than a month since we first …?” She cast an embarrassed glance towards Davos. “And I think it’s less than that anyway, perhaps just a couple of weeks?”

“I’m sorry to have barged in like this, your Grace,” Davos said. “But I came because I have seen something like this before. I never did ask all the details but the lady Melisandre also became pregnant this quickly and ...”

Dany cried out again and Missandei rushed forwards, pushing past Jon and helping Dany onto the bed. “I can’t be pregnant,” she was mumbling. “For all sorts of reasons, I can’t be.”

Jon’s mind was racing but he knew he had to keep his concerns to himself. All that was important now was reassuring Dany and they could worry about the rest later.

She cried out again. Her eyes wide as she looked from Jon to Missandei. “I can feel … it … something … She placed a hand on her stomach. “How can I have a baby after just a couple of weeks? How can that be possible?”

“Davos?” Jon asked, allowing Missandei to help Dany undress whilst he moved back to the door. “What do you know? What happened with Melisandre?”

“Dark magic,” he replied. “Powerful magic and … a shadow?”

“Shadow?” Jon mused, recalling his own strange encounter with the Red Woman back in Castle Black. “She said … she once said I had power and then she ... tried to seduce me and ...”

“She always had this thing about royal blood,” Davos continued. “Always going on about the power of the blood of Kings?”

“Kings? I have Stark blood in me – the old Kings of Winter - but that’s not the same, is it?”

“No, I believe she means the magical blood of Old Valyria of which the Baratheons have some but I’m not sure about the Starks.”

“They have old magic, it’s true, but no Valyrian blood that I know of.” He frowned. “There’s my mother, I suppose? I don’t know who she was and Daenerys is Targaryen and she also has magic, of a sort.” He shook his head. “No, Melisandre was definitely talking of my power.”

“What did she say exactly?” Davos asked. “Can you remember?”

Jon closed his eyes, pulling a face as he recalled the uncomfortable conversation back in his Commander’s office at Castle Black. "In our joining ... there's power,” he quoted. “Power to make life, power to make light and power to create shadows.”

“Oh dear,” Davos said. “I wonder if this could also have something to do with your death and resurrection?”

From the bed came another cry and Jon turned to see Dany now lying on her back, legs apart and straining as her stomach rippled oddly. He braced himself for hours of waiting and of blood and watching his love writhe in agonising pain, but it was all over far quicker than that. Instead of blood, it was only darkness he saw, as something black and ominous crawled out of her - smoky hands and fingers grasping at her pale thighs - and then, so quickly he could hardly register it, the shadow drew itself up and coalesced into the rough form of a man. A man of his height, his build and with his … Jon gaped, staring at a strange, dark image in front of him, his mind quite unable to rationalise what his eyes were seeing.

But then the strange illusion was gone as quickly as it had formed, fallen back into smoke and darkness, slithering across the floor, under the door and out into the corridor.

There was a moment of stunned silence broken only by a loud sob from Daenerys and Jon ran back to her, all other thoughts briefly put aside as he came to offer her comfort. She was crying - her face full of confusion - but he could see no blood, no sign of pain on her face and her stomach appeared just as flat as he remembered from the boat. It was if she had never been pregnant at all.

“I’m having a nightmare, that’s the only explanation,” she said, looking down in confusion at how untouched her body was by what had just happened. “I will wake up soon and it’ll all be over. Perhaps I will open my eyes and be back in your arms on the ship, Jon, and these last terrifying weeks will have all been a dream.”

“My silly, brave queen,” he chided, taking her hands in his. “You should have told me. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

“I was scared and confused and … I didn’t know what to do or how to even start such a conversation.” She began to stand, waving Jon and Missandei away when they rushed to her side, concerned. “I’m fine. Apart from feeling a little light-headed and very confused, I’m perfectly well.”

She stood with confidence, adjusting her clothes and allowing Missandei to fuss over her hair, and Jon had to admit that she looked better now than she had on the whole journey up here. He moved forwards to take her hands in his again and she gazed up at him, her eyes softening as she took note of his concern, one hand moving quickly up to his cheek, the others in the room momentarily forgotten as the young lovers finally reconnected. Jon felt something in him unknot as he basked in her soft gaze. If they remained together - truly together - he knew there was nothing they couldn’t achieve.

“Melisandre gave birth to something similar.” Davos’ voice brought them back to the reality of what had just happened and all three turned to him, shocked by his words. “I was there and saw it born. A shadow version of King Stannis sent to kill his brother Renly whom they believed was their greatest enemy at the time.”

Jon frowned on hearing that. “I wasn’t sure but, for a moment, it seemed as if that shadow turned into a man. A man who looked like ...”

“You,” Davos confirmed. “You who was its father and, from what little I understand of the spell, all it would require is some instruction. Some task for it to undertake.”

“Spell?” Jon asked.

“Task?” Dany spoke at the same time. “What task?”

“Well, with the exception of each other,” Davos began with a soft smile, “what one thing has been on both of your minds recently? What were you thinking in the courtyard when you heard of young lord Stark’s news?”

“Nothing but vengeance,” Dany admitted. “Vengeance for my son, for what he was made to do to the Wall and for all those lost lives, past and future.”

Jon sat down on the edge of the bed, his face pale. “And I have thought of little else since Hardhome. I’m not sure a moment goes by when the image of his face is not lurking in some part of my head.” Jon looked up at Davos, seeking further answers but the old man could only shrug.

“I only know what I saw at the time and what I heard afterwards. I have no true understanding of the power the Red Woman wielded or how you two could replicate the feat with no knowledge of what you were doing. I have no answers at all really, but who else would Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen consider to be their greatest enemy? Could it be that the two of you have already unwittingly dealt the Night King a killing blow?”

~o~0~o~