He had noticed the reception that waited for them. Similarly to Robert's arrival, the whole of Winterfell had assembled in the courtyard. Sansa had been courteous enough, a bit stiff and cold, but she had done her duty and yielded the keep to their new Queen. Salt and bread were offered, a sacred tradition that was even more observed among the Starks, along with thoughts of those it did not spare. Some camps had been prepared in the courtyard for a number of Daenerys's forces and captains. Many of the soldiers would have to rest outside alongside a fair group of the refugees.
Sansa had made some efforts to evacuate the villages a bit further North and relocate the smallfolk here, but it was not enough. By the size of them, she had only focused on the surrounding area. She muttered something to him about food as Jon went below to the crypts to pay respect to Lord Eddard. She didn't follow after, swallowing her complaints for now. He was tired, the journey had been long and there would be a contentious meeting with his lords soon. Already he had seen their angry and insulted looks when Dany's back had been turned. They would have words for him, all centering around his decision to bend the knee and his oath to support Daenerys as Queen. It was at least put off for now as the rest gathered and readied.
Staring up at his father's features, he took a slow breath, trying to think what he might say in such a situation. How Ned would have faced the anger of his people. This was done for a greater good and a true belief that it was the right path, but it didn't make the fallout any easier. He was a bastard before he was once a king. Many of them would see that as an opportunity to attack him, to question his intuition and decision making. It was Robb that was trained to be a leader, not Jon. That fact was likely in their minds. They had chosen the son of Ned Stark that was never meant to hold Winterfell or the North. There had never been a place for him before in the Great Hall, perhaps they were wrong to have made one now.
He gripped and ungripped his hands, letting out a shaky breath. Beyond that, there were the troubles of food, wood and other supplies, both for refugees, armies and Winterfell. What they brought might not be enough. Men would have to take risks in the woods to chop more while other supplies were diverted to Winterfell. He needed a way to bring other families to Winterfell, the Great Houses that might be inclined to wait behind their walls. Their people would be the first targets and then their keeps. Being divided and waiting this out as they would wait out winter was no longer an option.
Seeking once more an answer from his father's face, he returned to the keep. Many servants and nobles tried to intercept Jon, but he kept walking, simply telling them, "Later." There was someone else he wanted to see first.
He had noticed the struggle she had endured on the way to Winterfell and her best attempts to brush aside the coldness when she was received. Daenerys had sacrificed a great deal to follow him on a war that she could have easily prepared for on Dragonstone. She had come with him on simple appeals and pleas, setting aside her own plans to oversee the safety of the North and the realm. But beyond those duties as a queen, he imagined how this might be affecting the woman. The cold reception, the buried hostility, it wouldn't be comfortable for anyone to face and he didn't want to leave her to stew in it for long. Not without his reassurances.
He needed her advice though, her thoughts on what they could do to proceed. That gathering would be contentious and she would have to endure more unkindness. His heart ached, cursing himself for forcing her to undergo this. She was surrounded with those who loved her before, now she would have to contend with icy Northerners. He wanted better for her than this, but still she was here, prepared to face it. It was his fault in the end, his doing that brought her to this painful moment. His selfishness and desperation had pulled her from her rightful path onto his. Worst still, he managed to touch her heart in a more personal way, one that he could not guarantee would be safe. He might well die in this war and he might leave her heartbroken. Another woman that he abandoned for duty and put in harm's way.
He found her room easily. Sansa, in a rare gesture of generosity (or perhaps more rare than he expected) had given her the Lord's chamber. His sister had taken her old room for now, granting Daenerys this much of an honor. The guards placed in front let him enter without complaint or objection. Perhaps he should have knocked, but his thoughts were full of her, needing to see her, needing to ensure that she wasn't angry with him.
Jon paused once the door was shut, shaken by how she might greet him, just as he had been the night he came to her rooms. His fingers clenched and unclenched anxiously, fidgeting as he struggled to find his confidence again. "Dany?"
Woo!
Sansa had made some efforts to evacuate the villages a bit further North and relocate the smallfolk here, but it was not enough. By the size of them, she had only focused on the surrounding area. She muttered something to him about food as Jon went below to the crypts to pay respect to Lord Eddard. She didn't follow after, swallowing her complaints for now. He was tired, the journey had been long and there would be a contentious meeting with his lords soon. Already he had seen their angry and insulted looks when Dany's back had been turned. They would have words for him, all centering around his decision to bend the knee and his oath to support Daenerys as Queen. It was at least put off for now as the rest gathered and readied.
Staring up at his father's features, he took a slow breath, trying to think what he might say in such a situation. How Ned would have faced the anger of his people. This was done for a greater good and a true belief that it was the right path, but it didn't make the fallout any easier. He was a bastard before he was once a king. Many of them would see that as an opportunity to attack him, to question his intuition and decision making. It was Robb that was trained to be a leader, not Jon. That fact was likely in their minds. They had chosen the son of Ned Stark that was never meant to hold Winterfell or the North. There had never been a place for him before in the Great Hall, perhaps they were wrong to have made one now.
He gripped and ungripped his hands, letting out a shaky breath. Beyond that, there were the troubles of food, wood and other supplies, both for refugees, armies and Winterfell. What they brought might not be enough. Men would have to take risks in the woods to chop more while other supplies were diverted to Winterfell. He needed a way to bring other families to Winterfell, the Great Houses that might be inclined to wait behind their walls. Their people would be the first targets and then their keeps. Being divided and waiting this out as they would wait out winter was no longer an option.
Seeking once more an answer from his father's face, he returned to the keep. Many servants and nobles tried to intercept Jon, but he kept walking, simply telling them, "Later." There was someone else he wanted to see first.
He had noticed the struggle she had endured on the way to Winterfell and her best attempts to brush aside the coldness when she was received. Daenerys had sacrificed a great deal to follow him on a war that she could have easily prepared for on Dragonstone. She had come with him on simple appeals and pleas, setting aside her own plans to oversee the safety of the North and the realm. But beyond those duties as a queen, he imagined how this might be affecting the woman. The cold reception, the buried hostility, it wouldn't be comfortable for anyone to face and he didn't want to leave her to stew in it for long. Not without his reassurances.
He needed her advice though, her thoughts on what they could do to proceed. That gathering would be contentious and she would have to endure more unkindness. His heart ached, cursing himself for forcing her to undergo this. She was surrounded with those who loved her before, now she would have to contend with icy Northerners. He wanted better for her than this, but still she was here, prepared to face it. It was his fault in the end, his doing that brought her to this painful moment. His selfishness and desperation had pulled her from her rightful path onto his. Worst still, he managed to touch her heart in a more personal way, one that he could not guarantee would be safe. He might well die in this war and he might leave her heartbroken. Another woman that he abandoned for duty and put in harm's way.
He found her room easily. Sansa, in a rare gesture of generosity (or perhaps more rare than he expected) had given her the Lord's chamber. His sister had taken her old room for now, granting Daenerys this much of an honor. The guards placed in front let him enter without complaint or objection. Perhaps he should have knocked, but his thoughts were full of her, needing to see her, needing to ensure that she wasn't angry with him.
Jon paused once the door was shut, shaken by how she might greet him, just as he had been the night he came to her rooms. His fingers clenched and unclenched anxiously, fidgeting as he struggled to find his confidence again. "Dany?"