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The North was as grey and dull as she had imagined.
But Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell bloomed like the first flower of spring. Daenerys could hardly believe the woman could be Jon's sister, of even a Northerner at all. With her bright red hair and bright blue eyes, Daenerys could have almost have thought Sansa was as out of place here as she was.
She wondered why Jon had never spoken of his sister much, other than to say she was Lady of Winterfell.
Her eyes follow him as he crossed the courtyard with eager steps. And the way he pulled Sansa close and how Sansa buried herself against the furs of his cloak, Daenerys felt the first stir of curiosity and dread.
When Sansa's gaze snapped to hers, the look piercing and cold with undisguised warning, Daenerys stumbled to a halt.
Jon moved away, stepping to the side and sparing her a quick smile before he once again had his eyes on his sister.
Oh.
"I introduce my sister, the Lady of Winterfell," he murmured, his eyes soft as he gazed upon his sister.
I see...
Her slight shift brought Jon's attention back to her. "And this is Queen Daenerys."
Daenerys held her breath as she watched Sansa look to the floor for a split second, her gaze upon Jon's hand which clenched and unclenched before her.
"Winterfell is yours," Sansa murmured, finally looking back up. "Your Grace."
Her flicker of a smile held the false promise of friendliness and it made Dany swallow back her indignation and force a smile of her own. She chanced another glance at Jon, the feeling of dread she had felt before only intensifying at the way he looked at Sansa with such pride.
It lasted barely a second. And then he was back to looking at her, smiling at her. Sansa was falling into the role of welcoming them with pretty words, the lies of how nice it is to meet her filling the air with false sweetness.
But Daenerys can see the real truth now behind Sansa's courtesy and Jon's eyes.
Targaeryns aren't the only ones who fall in love with their siblings.
She grabbed Jon's hand as they followed Sansa inside, flashing her hostess a smile of possession. Sansa's face remained impassive as she spared little more than a glance at their joined hands and Daenerys immediately felt lost on how to proceed.
Her house words echoed through her. Fire and Blood. Fire and Blood.
"I will take what is mine, with fire and blood."