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The closer they draw to Winterfell, the more tense Jon grows. Daenerys knows he remains worried about the reaction of his people—her people, soon—despite the precautions they have taken. He was convinced that if they were to arrive at Winterfell and immediately share that he had pledged loyalty to her, there would be chaos. They would not bow to her, not without knowing her, just as he had refused upon meeting her.
Give them time, Your Grace, to get to know you, he had told her. Wait until the Night King is defeated, when you have their gratitude and trust.
She had agreed, under the behest of Tyrion and Varys. Northerners, if she was to understand it, were stubborn and loyal to their own. Dany had to become one of their own if she expected their loyalty once she acquired the Iron Throne.
It is this thought that she keeps in mind as they converge on the walls of Winterfell. She had also been convinced not to ride in on one of her dragons, to travel on ground. It would send a better message to those whose hearts she meant to sway.
"It is different than I expected," she says, earning a curious look from Jon.
"What did you expect?"
She considers the question and finds that she has no real answer. "I don't know."
There is a small commotion as they pass through the gates and Daenerys does not miss how the people admire and respect their king. She sees the look of gracious relief on many faces as he rides in. She also does not miss how hard he clenches the reigns of his horse, how stiff his back is.
"Jon!"
Their attention turns to the voice and within seconds, Jon is dismounting and running forward to grab a petite girl and hoist her from the ground, clutching her like something precious. Arya, Daenerys assumes. He had told her little about his family, but she had heard in his voice before the overwhelming fondness for his youngest half-sister who had gone missing years prior. His expression as he read the letter stating she was back at Winterfell was the most vulnerable she had seen on him.
Daenerys climbs down from her horse as the siblings share their reunion, unable to keep a small smile from her face. Viserys had been terrible, in the end, but she could still recall some of their best moments together. She still missed him sometimes, despite everything that had transpired.
She walks up to the two in time to hear Jon ask after their sister. Tyrion had mentioned that, of the Stark children, Sansa and Jon had been the most distant from each other. The girl had taken after her mother in distaste for the bastard and had little to do with him. The thought of it prickles at Daenerys' skin, but she smiles sweetly as she reaches Jon's side and lets him introduce her. When the time comes for meeting the estranged and cold daughter of Eddard Stark, she will take her cues from Jon.
+
The first time she sees Sansa Stark, it is during the gathering Jon had asked on to explain his alliance with Daenerys to fight the threat beyond the wall. She sits on the other side of Jon and only speaks to placate those who take ill with Daenerys' presence.
"My lords, I understand your hesitance, but we cannot fight the White Walkers alone. I ask you to set aside your grievances until this war is won. If we decline the help that Queen Daenerys has so benevolently offered, we are all doomed. You would not let the North fall like this, I know it. We must all fight on the same side if we wish to see this winter through."
If anything, the girl is well spoken, and it is clear that she is respected, even if it is Jon they chose to rule them.
When the meeting adjourns, she apologizes to Daenerys for their lack of a proper introduction, and then again as she claims there is urgent business she must attend to. She excuses herself with all the grace Tyrion had claimed her to have and is soon gone. Jon frowns after her and Daenerys wonders how he can still look so forlorn at her behavior when it has been this way his entire life. She places her hand over his in an attempt at comfort, but receives only a small, strained smile in return.
+
It is several days later that she decides to walk the godswood she had heard Jon speak of on their travel to Winterfell. She declined Ser Jorah's offer to accompany her, wishing to have a moment alone with her thoughts. The bitter cold seeps into her bones despite the thick cloak she pulls tight around her and she knows she will not miss it. She is suddenly and fiercely glad that the Iron Throne is so much further south, for the sake of her comfort, but the thought sours quickly. Jon will wish to stay in Winterfell when the war is won, she's sure of it, but her place is in King's Landing. She could convince him, she believes, if given the time. Their marriage would be an advantageous one to the North and Jon would have little reason to decline the match.
Angry voices break her train of thought and she slows the pace of her walking. She recognizes the sound of Jon's instantly, but it takes her a moment more to place the second. She stills as they come into view, the distant half-siblings.
"It makes no difference," Jon says, voice tight.
"It makes every difference," his sister shoots back. The carefully crafted veneer of Lady of Winterfell is gone, giving Dany her first real look at the girl underneath the mask.
"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Sansa." From what she can see of his face in the fading light of day, he looks exhausted, and Daenerys' heart clenches in sympathy. Her blood begins to boil in response to the manner in which his sister treats him but is just as quickly doused as the red head unexpectedly softens. Daenerys watches in shock as Sansa closes the gap between them, throwing her arms around her brother's neck.
Jon returns the embrace just as easily, arms encircling her waist and squeezing her tightly. He presses his face to her hair and holds her, eyes shut. The scene is completely at odds with everything she had heard of the two, that she had seen since she arrived. With a single moment, she is made to doubt everything she knows of their relationship.
"Gods," Jon says, almost too quiet for her to pick up, "I missed you."
"Good. Perhaps you'll think twice before leaving the next time the urge strikes you."
He turns his face to kiss the tip of her ear and brings a hand up to stroke her hair.
Daenerys is stunned by the tenderness of the display and wonders just how much longer they will remain in each other's arms. She reminds herself that it would not reflect on her well to be caught eavesdropping, and so she turns away as quietly as she can and begins her walk back to the castle.
Jorah is waiting for her, having apparently stood guard at the woods' edge for her safety. She feels a genuine surge of affection toward him and manages to give him a smile.
"How was your walk, Khaleesi?"
"I'm afraid it only gave me more to think on."
+
The castle is awash in activity, everyone playing their part in preparing for the Long Night to come. Daenerys is surprised to find women and children training amongst the men and the sight makes her feel inadequate in some way. She has her dragons, her army, but she knows she would not last long in the fray if she had to defend herself with only sword and shield.
Dany watches as Lady Sansa comes to stand a few feet from where Jon is sparring and he quickly takes down his opponent.
"Watch your feet," he says and turns toward his sister expectantly.
Sansa does not hesitate. "I want you to train me."
Daenerys can see his confusion clearly. "With a sword?"
"I don't want to be defenseless if it comes to those of us left behind needing to defend the castle."
Jon frowns and gives a short gesture to his sparring partner to dismiss him before moving closer to Sansa. It has been a habit of theirs, since their reconciliation in the godswood, to stand so closely. She can no longer hear what they say to each other, but the soft exchange placates the girl, who nods with a small smile.
She says something else then, something that makes Jon laugh, and an unpleasant feeling twists in Daenerys' stomach. Jon laughs and jokes with his sisters, with the wild-eyed man from beyond the wall, but never with her. She hadn't even noticed before how shallow their interactions were until she had seen how he truly behaved around the people closest to him. She had even thought, foolishly, that she was special for getting as close to him as she did.
Jon pulls a ringlet of hair back over Sansa's shoulder from where it had been displaced. His fingers are gentle, but something in his expression speaks of a darker urge. She is struck, suddenly, by a memory of Viserys. He has been on her mind too often lately, but it is hard not to think of him under such conditions. She knows now that her relationship with her brother was not normal by the rest of the realm's standards, knows that any normal girl would have shuddered to consider the idea of wedding her sibling.
Sansa stares back at her half-brother, unbothered by the intensity of his gaze.
It seems, Daenerys realizes, that she and Sansa Stark have more in common than she first thought.