Alannys stood beside their bedroom window in only her nightgown, hair undone and dancing in the wind. She had woken from another nightmare, not a rare occurrence since her husband knelt for the Dragon King, but the first she had experienced since he returned. She had thought the security of his warmth wrapped around her was enough to make them leave, but apparently not. Even with all her children and her husband home she still dreamt of them being ripped from her arms and carried away on dragon back. The fury she held for the Targaryen’s simmered just under her skin at the best of times, after a night like the one she just experienced it was practically roaring.
A deep breath calmed the noise in her head to a bearable level and she focused on identifying the colours across the sky and sea, soft grey lavenders, salmons, rose, with the colours of her children’s eyes scattered throughout the sea. Her children showed their true ironborn spirit in their eyes, mixes of blue, green and greys like the ocean that changed from softly lapping at the shores to the fury of a storm. Even now, as grown men and woman their eyes betrayed them when all else was still as the rock they had been born upon. Although perhaps that was a Mother’s fanciful imaginings.
She looked towards the bed her husband lay upon, the stress and pain of his life was washed away as he slept, the creases and tension draining away with the knowledge that his wife would gut anyone who attempted to hurt him in her bed, like a fish. A small sneer accompanied the tightening of her jaw muscles at the very thought of someone trying to hurt her lover. They would last long enough to hear her voice in their ear, cold as the Greenlander’s Stranger or the Northman’s White Walkers. Causing her husband to hurt would be the last mistake they ever made.
Sharply she spun back to the window and closed the shutters tight, before padding quietly to add more fire to their grate. Kneeling in front of it and holding her hair back Alannys gently blew upon the embers, sparking them to life once more. Then she made her way slowly back to their bed, pulling the blankets back and slipping in, pressing cool toes against the crease behind her beloved’s knees and pulling the blankets back to cover her. Her hands wrapped around his torso to press frigid fingers against his chest, as she had many times when she was newly wedded. Carefully she wrapped her teeth around the muscle between his neck and shoulder, putting enough pressure to leave small crescent shaped tooth marks. “Good morning husband,” she whispered breathily in his ear, hands shifting along his chest to feel for the marks she had memorised over twenty years ago and identify the scars that he earnt during his attack and subsequent capture. She nuzzled her nose down the back of his neck before planting a kiss at the spot where it joined his back. “Did you sleep well?”
Even after all these years they couldn’t keep their hands from each other, that could be because they had been celibate for their time apart, although she doubted it. They had always been passionate, wrapped up in heated looks, touches and whispers. Sometimes it involved knives and angry words, others it was her laid across his war table with her ankles around his ears as he drove his point home. “What are our plans for today?” Perhaps her thoughts were too hopeful considering all the things she and the man she loved needed to organise, such as her pulling back from the command role to allow him in. But if she caused a self-fulfilling prophecy of them staying in bed all day, well she was certainly not going to complain.