When Daenerys entered the dream once again, Frostflame was no longer inside the cave.
She lay quietly outside instead, moonlight spilling across her snow-white scales and lending her an imposing majesty.
Her body heat had melted a shallow hollow into the snow beneath her, while each breath she exhaled condensed into pale wisps of mist in the night air.
Jon stood before Frostflame, one hand resting against her snout.
When the white dragon noticed Daenerys, her gaze lingered on the girl for a moment before she settled down again.
Jon turned and grinned at Daenerys.
“I found her.
I’m with her now.”
Daenerys’s face lit up with a brilliant smile.
She ran to him in only a few steps and, before Jon could react, threw herself into his arms.
She held him tightly for a long moment before finally letting go.
“Jon, you did it!”
Frostflame gave a low rumble and curled herself into a ball as though preparing for a nap, wrapping the tip of her tail around her claws and over her snout.
Daenerys looked at the snow-white dragon, the smile still lingering on her face.
“What’s Frostflame like in the real world?”
Jon took a small step back, still holding her by the elbow.
A trace of excitement remained in his voice.
“I flew with her.”
“What was it like?”
“It’s freezing up there.” He thought for a moment, then added, “But it felt incredible.”
Jon told her about the dangers of his first flight and what it had felt like to look down upon the vast snowfields from high in the sky.
As he spoke, he could not help glancing down at his hands, as though the sting from gripping Frostflame’s spines still lingered in his palms.
Daenerys listened with rapt attention, occasionally gasping in surprise or laughing, as though she had flown alongside him herself.
After a while, Jon stopped speaking and studied her face.
“How have you been lately?”
A night breeze drifted through the dream from some unseen direction.
Frostflame yawned and tucked her head farther beneath her tail, making the moonlight shimmer briefly across her scales.
Daenerys pressed her lips together.
“Viserys and I have reached Pentos.”
“We’re staying at Magister Illyrio’s estate.
He’s the most powerful merchant in the city.
His mansion is enormous and beautiful, better than anywhere I’ve ever lived before.”
“That sounds good.”
“It does.”
Daenerys paused, her gaze slowly lowering.
“Viserys likes it there very much, but I can’t help feeling that Magister Illyrio is being far too generous to us.”
Jon frowned slightly at the name.
Illyrio Mopatis.
Of course he had heard of him.
A shrewd merchant and a man who never entered into a bargain unless he expected to profit from it.
“No one is generous without reason, especially a man like Illyrio.”
Jon’s expression grew more serious.
“He’s willing to shelter you, give you food and a place to live, and even help Viserys search for a chance to reclaim the throne.
He must want something in return.”
“What that might be, I can’t say yet.”
He looked directly at Daenerys.
“So don’t trust him too easily.”
“Especially if he starts persuading Viserys to do something.
Be careful.”
Daenerys nodded, worry creeping into her eyes.
“Then what should I do?”
Jon thought for a moment before answering.
“Nothing.”
“Live as you normally would.
As long as he doesn’t do anything too far out of bounds, don’t give him reason to turn against you.”
“I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”
He paused, and his expression softened.
“I’ll bring Frostflame with me.”
Daenerys brightened at once.
“All right.
I’ll wait for you.”
Only when Jon saw her smile again did he finally relax.
Then he changed the subject.
“How is Viserys these days?”
Daenerys pressed her lips together again and remained silent for a moment before answering.
“He’s changed a great deal.
He doesn’t smile as much as he used to.”
“The only time he smiles now is when he talks about his coming ‘great conquest’ of Westeros.”
“Conquest?
With what army?”
“He says there are still many people in Westeros who remain loyal to the Targaryens.”
“He says that once we return, they’ll rise up and help us take back the Iron Throne.”
“He also intends to build an army of his own in Pentos.”
Daenerys looked at Jon and asked quietly, “Is that true?”
After a brief hesitation, she added, “Do the people of Westeros really still want to support us?”
Jon was silent for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
He answered truthfully.
“Westeros is peaceful now.
Many of those who were loyal to the Targaryens have either been exiled or are already dead.”
Daenerys’s expression dimmed.
“Ser Jorah tried to tell Viserys the same thing before, but he refuses to listen.”
“Jorah?”
“A knight from Westeros.
He came to protect us.
He’s a good man, and he’s always been very patient with Viserys.”
Jon frowned.
“I think I’ve heard Uncle Benjen mention that name.”
He thought for a moment.
“I believe he’s from House Mormont and was exiled for something he did.”
“When I return to Castle Black, I’ll ask Lord Mormont about him.”
Behind them, Frostflame suddenly stirred.
Their conversation came to a halt.
Daenerys looked at Jon and asked softly, “Is it time?”
“Yes.”
Jon sighed quietly.
They could only meet in their dreams once every few months, and even then, their time together was always short.
“Take care.”
“You too.”
Frostflame gave a soft rumble, her tail gently brushing past their feet.
…
Morning light filtered through the thin curtains and fell softly across the bed.
Daenerys rolled onto her side and buried her face deep in the soft pillow, trying to cling to the last traces of the dream.
Even hearing Jon say one more word would have been enough.
But dreams always ended.
Before long, the servants would come knocking to prepare her bath and help her dress.
Daenerys had to admit that she liked living here.
The soft bed, the warm bathwater, the fresh fruit, and the servants who always greeted her with smiles.
She had never had any of those things before.
Yet beneath all that comfort lingered a fear she could not shake.
She still could not truly relax.
Illyrio had given them far too much.
Why would a merchant who barely knew them show such generosity to two exiled Targaryens?
Jon was right.
No one was generous without reason.
Then a familiar set of hurried footsteps suddenly sounded in the corridor outside.
Daenerys’s body immediately went rigid.
Viserys.
She curled stiffly beneath the covers, her heart beginning to race.
Sometimes, all it took was the sound of his footsteps for her to know what sort of mood her brother was in that day.
Daenerys lay back down and closed her eyes, as though doing so might somehow spare her from whatever unpleasantness was coming.