Game of Thrones: Frozen Fire

The Distance

"Never," she retorted. "I want our King to relax and dance with me. No one will dare to say a thing about the Young Wolf. The King. My husband." She was smiling up at him; it made his heart stutter because such a bright smile, only granted for him, could have made him forget everything.

Feeling older and tired, he humored her and they danced. It certainly helped that he forgot he was being watched by so many people in the hall. There was a party around them but he couldn't remember the reason behind it. His mind was focused on the woman before him.

Suddenly he felt the imperious need to speak, to apologize for his absence and his reactions. But what words could summarize that? He couldn't recollect if he had apologized before. How could she be so happy in his arms if he hadn't?

"I love you," he whispered in a breath and her eyes turned soft, her lips formed a trembling smile.

"I know."

"But do you believe it?"

Her face was too expressive. Sometimes Dany did not need to speak for him to know what she felt or thought; yet, when she was around the rest, her face was a mask of cold indifference. He often felt honored of seeing the real her.

"I couldn't love you if I did not."

He gave a curt nod before huffing. The arch of her eyebrow prompted him to explain himself.

"It's warm in here."

She laughed at his discomfort. She never felt really warm since she could walk through fire without burning. Actually, their room in Winterfell sometimes felt asphyxiating due to the heat but he survived by wearing the least amount of clothes possible when they were alone.

"How will you survive when you become King of the Seven Kingdoms? King's Landing is very warm."

"It's winter."

"We'll survive winter." The assurance in her tone helped to ease his worries. He knew that if anyone could survive winter, those were the Northerners. But the stubbornness and her conviction made her also a fighter ready to face the worst.

"I'm the King. I'll walk around naked and people won't complain," he quipped, making a rich laugh pour out of her lips while she tilted her head backwards slightly. He had to join her with a quieter one.

Taking one step closer to him, he felt her body heat, not really touching but almost as close.

He missed her so much, the temptation of holding her, of burying his nose in her hair to smell the herbal scent of sage and touching her soft and pale skin, was too much for him. Home for him was lying next to her in bed surrounded by her warmth and softness as he breathed in the scent of blue winter roses that clung to the sheets, since she had made mandatory to boil them with the dried flowers that had adorned the chambers before.

"Robb," she whispered.

Robb was about to reply when he felt something cold and solid stabbing his stomach. Her body slumped against his and Dany gasped when her fingers dug in his arms, feeling it even through the clothes.

When he looked down he saw the handle of a dirk protruding on her back, the blood staining her dress, growing rapidly as her fingers let go of him.

The animalistic growl he heard was so strong and loud, Robb didn't realize it had come from him until people rushed to him and Daenerys. By then, both of them had slipped to fall softly on the cold floor.

The music stopped.

In the distance he saw a shadow running away, a man wearing a cloak moving swiftly through the crowd to abandon the hall. And as much as he wanted to avenge this, he could not leave his wife as life slipped through her fingers.