𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑂𝑖𝑁𝐸 | 𝐽𝑜𝑛 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤

twenty.

"𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁"

They rode for Whiteharbour that next morning. Ashara rode behind Jon and Davos, but in front of the other men Jon had commanded Ashara to round up. Currently her ear was being talked off by Eddy, who was explaining how he beat the biggest man in a fight in training a few days ago.

His voice went in one ear and out the other, with Ashara paying little attention to him, and more attention to the road ahead. The cold had got to her on that specific morning, causing her nose to become bright red and stuffed.

"And that's when I kicked him to the ground. He didn't stand a chance." Eddy grinned with a smug look on his face. They other men were cheering at Eddy whilst Ashara rolled her eyes. She wasn't fond of his boasting; it didn't impress her.

"Next time, fight me, you won't stand a chance then." She butted in the conversation, not turning her head away from the road in front of her. A chorus of laughing and oohing was heard around the small group of people, gaining the attention of Jon. Whipping his head around quickly, he was met with Ashara's fed up face, and Eddy's bright red one.

The ride was long to Whiteharbour, with Eddy's consistent talking and Jon and Davos' secret conversations, Ashara felt lonely even though she was surrounded.

Leaving their horses at a stable in Whiteharbour, everyone grabbed their things and found their way onto their small row boat that would get them to Dragonstone.

With the sand wiggling itself into Ashara's boots, she huffed in frustration, becoming tired and sick of this small space already.

To add to this, she never liked sea journeys, and on a day like today, with the deep blue water throwing itself around, it would be even worse. Sitting in between Jon and Eddy, she spent the majority of the boat ride with her head in a bucket.

Jon softly placed his hand on Ashara's back, rubbing circles lightly into it. He was also feeling green, but he would be strong and push through. Ashara's gagging was making all the men aboard feel green, with Eddy vomiting over the side on a handful of occasions.

Eddy was also quick to notice Jon's hand on Ashara's back. Glaring at Jon, he made a move on the girl seated next to him, and slightly rubbed her arm, telling her that the journey would soon be over.

This action surprised both Ashara and Jon, with Ashara looking at him as if he had grown another head, and Jon shooting daggers in his direction. Jon felt a fire ignite inside of him at the thought of another man having feelings towards Ashara. It made him see red.

Waves continued to throw the small, wooden boat around for the next few hours, and with Ashara feeling so sick, the journey was not fun for anyone. But lucky for them, the clouds soon parted on this rare winter day, and the sun appeared in the sky.

The closer they approached to Dragonstone, the calmer the great sea became. Jon hoped it was a sign of what was to come, hoping for a peaceful meeting. Checking over towards Ashara once more, Jon noted that the colour had returned to Ashara's face. Her eyes were too busy looking towards the impressive castle sitting on the cliff side. It was built with dark stone, something like Ashara had never seen in Westeros before. Then her eyes travelled to the thousands of steps winding up to a great castle perched on the edge of the coastline.

Ashara let out an audible gasp, the sight before her taking her breath away. It was so mystical it was as if it was based of a child's drawing. With the sun beating down on their heads, the members of Jon's closest council were talking between themselves as Ashara took over from Jon, to row the final leg of the journey. The sea was calm now, with the blue sky being reflected on the waters, the oars gliding through the salty sea and Ashara admiring the castle in front of her.

"Have you been here before Davos?" She questioned the man, no doubt in her mind he would have some story to share.

"Many a time Ara when I was in service for Stannis." He replied, his face showing s small smile, with happier memories playing on his mind.

"There is a great room in the castle, with a map of Westeros made out of dragon glass, an open wall showing sea views. You'd love it, being in there feels like you're king of the world!" Davos continued, rising to his feet and spreading his arms which received a hearty laugh from the stomach of Ashara.

Her melodic laugh caught Jon's attention, who was previously watching Eddy and his comrades make crude jokes about the cooks back at Winterfell. Jon always felt unsettled when Eddy was around, with his blonde hair and his green eyes, he didn't belong in the north, he wasn't a northerner and Jon didn't like it. It also didn't help that he stared Ashara down with hungry eyes, that only he seemed to notice. He always was found at her side, following her like a sick little puppy.

Ashara continued to row to the shore where a handful of people stood. Once the oars touched the sad, she and some others jumped from the boat, and waded through the water to heave the boat onto the sand, surrounded by cliffs. She gasped again, taking in the beauty once more.

"Welcome to Dragonstone, your Queen awaits you." Said a woman who Ara didn't notice. He hair was extremely curly, with caramel skin and the dark brown eyes Ashara had.

"Our queen?" Ara questioned, her eyebrows flicking upwards on her head. She obeyed no queen, only the king in the north.

"Ashara Sand, we haven't had the pleasure to meet before, but Jon's letters tell me much about you." A small hand reached out towards her. The famous Imp stood before her, with his arm extended ready to shake Ashara's much bigger hand. She looked at Jon questionably but shook his hand anyway.

"Come, we have much to discuss." Tyrion said to Jon as they both walked away from the group and towards the never-ending staircase. Both Davos and Ara went to follow but were met with the Dothraki guards. They pummelled their fists into their chests as a sign to stop, being met with Ashara's daggers coming from her eyes.

Ready for confrontation, she held the hilt of her sword, ready to draw until she saws Tyrion running back on his short legs. He came between the two, muttering some words in a language that Ashara didn't quite grasp.

"He would like you to hand over your weapons, please we do not wish for conflict." Tyrion begged with pleading eyes, the scar covering his face grabbing Aras attention. Looking at Jon for confirmation, he nodded slightly, telling her it was ok. She removed the blade from her hip, the daggers from her boots and the hidden blade from her sleeve.

With a huff, her and Davos started to ascend the staircase, worried about what fate that Jon seemed so eager to walk them into.