289 AC, Winterfell.
A year had passed in the blink of an eye since Jon first met Daenerys in his dreams.
Quite a few things had happened at the castle during that year.
Catelyn had given birth to another daughter, whom she named Arya Stark.
There had also been a war.
Eddard led the armies of The North to put down the rebellion in the Iron Islands and returned with a boy from House Greyjoy.
Jon was six now and had grown taller.
His grip on a wooden sword had also become much steadier.
When he sparred with Robb these days, unless Jon deliberately held back, Robb’s sword could not even touch the edge of his clothes.
They practiced swordsmanship together, attended Maester Luwin’s lessons together, and occasionally found themselves dragged out of the kitchens by Old Nan.
And when night came, Jon still entered the dream.
Through their conversations, he gradually learned that Daenerys was one of the last surviving members of House Targaryen and now lived in Braavos with her brother, Viserys.
Though Ser Willem Darry cared for them, their life in exile was far from wealthy.
Daenerys never complained about it.
Instead, whenever she spoke of Braavos, she told Jon about all sorts of things he had never seen.
“Once, I went to the docks with Ser Willem.”
Her voice was bright with excitement, as though she had remembered something amusing.
“I saw a huge ship there.
Its sail had a snarling Kraken painted on it.”
“It frightened me at first.
I thought there really was a Kraken hiding in the sea.”
Daenerys could not help laughing as she said it.
“Ser Willem told me afterward that it was only the crest of the ship owner’s house.”
Jon listened closely.
Over the past year, they had met many times on the snowfield, and their friendship had grown steadily closer.
They had become friends who could speak about anything, though most of the time Dany did the talking while Jon listened.
Dany would tell him of the mist that lingered over Braavos all year round, of merchant ships in the harbor flying banners of every color, and of vendors selling grilled fish beside the canals.
She also told him about the honey candy Ser Willem bought for her, which she claimed was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten.
Once, she even solemnly shaped a lump of snow into the likeness of a piece of candy, pressed it into Jon’s hand, and told him that was what it looked like.
Jon thanked her with complete seriousness, making Dany laugh so hard she could barely stand upright.
The white dragon would emerge from the depths of the cavern whenever they met.
Most of the time, she simply lay quietly beside Jon, though sometimes she would play with them.
Jon even gave her a name.
“Frostflame.”
The frost and snow of The North, and the fire burning within a dragon.
The white dragon seemed to understand the name.
Her violet slit-pupiled eyes suddenly brightened.
“Rrrrrr…”
A deep, pleased rumble echoed across the snowfield and lingered for a long while.
From that day onward, they both called her Frostflame.
…
When Jon next entered the dream and stepped onto the snowfield, Daenerys was nowhere to be seen in their usual place.
He stood alone upon the empty expanse.
“Dany?”
His voice carried far across the snow, but no answer came.
A vague sense of unease rose in his chest.
He quickened his pace toward the cavern, snow crunching softly beneath his feet.
Just as he neared the entrance, a faint sound of crying reached his ears.
Jon’s heart tightened, and he immediately ran toward it.
Daenerys was curled up on the ground with her face buried against her knees, her shoulders trembling without pause.
Her worn yellow dress was stained with mud around the hem.
Her bare feet were red from the cold, and she kept her head lowered as she cried.
“Dany!”
Jon hurried over.
At the sound of his voice, Daenerys shuddered and slowly raised her head.
Tear tracks covered her little face, and her eyes were red and swollen.
The instant she saw Jon, she threw herself into his arms.
“Ser Willem is dead!”
“He had a fever…
for so many days…
Everyone said there was nothing they could do to save him.”
She was crying so hard she could barely breathe.
“Those people took all the money, and then they threw us out of our home…”
“My brother says we have nowhere to go…”
Jon stood frozen.
The girl in his arms shook violently with sobs, her hot tears soaking through his leather clothes and dampening his chest.
He could not find anything to say.
He knew Ser Willem.
Dany had spoken of him many times.
The kindly old man had always cared for her, taught her to read, and comforted her whenever she was afraid.
He was the person she trusted most, one of the few people in the world she could depend upon.
And now he was dead.
Jon felt a painful tightness in his chest.
Daenerys was somewhere across the Narrow Sea.
He knew where she was, yet there was nothing he could do.
He did not even know how he could help her.
As he was now, he did not even have the means to leave The North.
In the end, all he could do was raise a hand and gently pat Daenerys on the back.
Just then, heavy footsteps sounded from deep within the cavern.
Frostflame slowly emerged from the darkness.
She had grown noticeably larger since the year before.
Seeming to notice Daenerys’s crying, she came over and let out a soft, low whine.
Then she spread one wing and sheltered them beneath it.
The wind and snow were shut out beyond the wing, leaving only Daenerys’s broken sobs echoing softly through the cavern.
“My brother keeps losing his temper.
I’ve never seen him like this before.
I’m scared.”
Jon looked down at her and simply held her a little tighter.
“I’ll stay with you in the dreams.
I won’t leave you.”
“Really?
You promise?”
“I promise.”
The wind and snow gradually died away.
But the distant snowfield began to blur, and even the snow beneath their feet seemed to be slowly fading.
Jon’s expression changed.
He knew the dream was ending.
“Dany, I have to go.”
Dany trembled and immediately wrapped her arms around him.
“Don’t go…”
The next moment, the entire snowfield began to collapse.
Countless cracks spread across the sky, and everything around them rapidly dissolved.
Darkness suddenly swallowed Jon’s vision.
He opened his eyes with a start.
Sitting up, he could still feel the warmth of the dream against his chest, and Dany’s sobs seemed to linger faintly in his ears.
Jon pushed aside the blankets, walked to the window, and opened it a crack.
Cold wind and snow rushed inside, making him shiver.
…
At the same time, in a cold, damp alley in Braavos, Daenerys slowly opened her eyes where she sat leaning against the wall.
A light rain was still falling.
Shallow water covered the alley, trickling slowly through the gaps between the stone paving.
Viserys sat beside her with his back against the wet, cold wall, clutching the worn old book tightly against his chest.
His face was pale, his eyes filled with barely suppressed anger, and his fingers trembled faintly.
Dany touched her chest.
It still seemed to hold some of the warmth from the dream, and suddenly she was not quite so afraid.
She gently tugged on Viserys’s sleeve.
“Brother, let’s go.
We’ll find somewhere to stay.”
Viserys paused, then lowered his gaze to his sister.
Her eyes were red and swollen, dust stained her face, and her clothes were already soaked through by the rain.
After a long silence, Viserys slowly rose, took her hand, and led her out of the alley.
Neither of them noticed the several people watching them from not far away.