they are to make their way north on the morrow, familiar lands to her, even more so than those of dragonstone. this silver haired queen had imagined the castle might feel like home, though dragonstone was a mere lonely spit of land, unlike anything that viserys had described. ghosts roamed the castles, those of her ancestors, she could feel them in the night, even if she could not see them. it was haunting, this place, though she could not imagine winterfell feeling any more like home, even if it was the place that she had been raised.
swallowing away the fear within her throat, daenerys looks out towards the sea, fingers tugging her evening cloak over her shoulders that little bit tighter, with apprehension in her eyes. just like the night she had arrived, a storm rages on beyond the castle walls. it howls in the night, screaming, as if to cause a devastation. somehow in its cries, daenerys recognises her own voice, though attempts to ignore it. lashes wisp to a close for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, slowly pushing it back out. and behind her, the door hinges sing, familiar footsteps entering the room. chin rests on her shoulder to glance over her shoulder, offering the young wolf a weak smile. ❝ struggling to sleep too? ❞
@lykosog.
