Jon VI

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Davos had taken on the role of consoling Shireen while Jon slept. Not that Jon lacked sympathy, but in this life, Jon Snow was a stranger to Shireen Baratheon. Offering solace to the girl might have seemed peculiar to most, especially to Shireen herself.

The journey back to the ship had been arduous, with only Jon and Davos manning the oars. It took two gruelling hours of back-breaking rowing. Jon couldn't fathom how the smuggler was able to row from the ship to the cove alone. He could only assume that Davos had far more experience in rowing than he did.

By the time they climbed aboard the ship, Jon was exhausted. Sleep eluded him during the night, and all he could think about was collapsing into his bed. When he eventually woke, it was almost midday. The sun was shining, reflecting against the water like sparkling diamonds, while a refreshing breeze filled the air. The ship sailed under full sail, promising swift progress. Jon noticed Davos approaching him.

"I imagine you're relieved to have left that shithole behind, your grace," Davos remarked.

"Please, when it's just you and me, call me Jon. I'm not 'your grace' until I wear a crown," Jon replied.

"Nevertheless, I bet you're still glad you left that shithole," Davos said with a smirk, and Jon chuckled in agreement.

"If it were up to me, I'd never step foot in that place again," Jon remarked, closing his eyes for a moment to savour the sea breeze before turning to Davos. "But I don't have a choice. I was born to the wrong man. I suppose I shouldn't wallow in self-pity." He glanced back at the cabin where Shireen was sleeping. "I have a loving family. I'm married to the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros, whom I adore."

"And you'll get to live in a grand castle," Davos interjected.

Jon wrinkled his nose. "Give me Queenscrown any day. Though I suppose I'm not Lord of Queenscrown anymore. I'll be heading straight for Winterfell. A northern council is being convened."

"Are you sure about that?" Davos inquired.

Jon nodded. "Sansa mentioned she would write to Lord Stark to arrange it around or just before Joffrey's wedding day." He fell silent, gazing at the faint line of land on the horizon, wondering how Arya was faring during the wedding. "Do you know of our whereabouts?" he asked.

"We're making excellent time. We passed Rosby some time ago. If the weather continues to be in our favour, you'll be arriving at Dragonstone by dusk," Davos replied, a smile playing on his lips.

"We could drop anchor and remain aboard until dawn," Jon suggested, not keen on the idea of rowing back to the island alone in the darkness. He didn't fancy his chances.

"I can row you there if you like," Davos offered. "I understand not wanting to row alone in the dark, especially if you're not accustomed to it. Could be quite risky, if you ask me. But I'm no stranger to this island, and I've navigated these shores a thousand or more times. Besides, someone needs to row the damn boat back to the ship," he added with a chuckle, and Jon joined in.

"I suppose it is best if we head for White Harbor as soon as possible. We can't be sure if Shireen's disappearance has been noticed, although the wedding might serve as a distraction."

"What is happening at the wedding?" Davos inquired.

"Chaos, followed by more chaos if everything goes as planned. We need to seize the opportunity while the Lannisters are vulnerable. They have their schemes, but we've thwarted them," Jon explained, just as footsteps approached from behind, diverting his attention. He turned to see a youthful-looking Shireen.

"Ser Davos, if you would excuse us. I'd like to speak with my rescuer," she said.

"Of course, my Lady," Davos replied with a nod. Jon was accustomed to Davos addressing her as Princess, and it seemed she was too if the puzzled look on her face was anything to go by. However, her status had changed, and she was now simply a Lady. Jon sensed she had questions.

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