No doubt they were drinking from the cask of good red wine offered to them by the Night’s Watch. The Hound had snatched it up immediately and walked off without a word said, leaving Dany to thank Commander Pyke for their hospitality. I guess the man had some drinking to do. Guess they all did. As she approached them, they both looked up at her, wide-eyed, straightening themselves, attempting to stand. Dany waived her hand, shaking away that nonsense, “None of that.” Grabbing an empty mug, she filled it from the wine cask and joined them at the table.
“Your Grace,” Gendry nodded at her with cup in hand. She nodded back, tipping her cup at them and drank in deep, long gulps until the mug was almost empty. Setting it down on the table, she exhaled deeply and saw the Hound staring at her intently.
“Never thought a woman your size could drink that much at once,” he quipped, hair falling in his face, taking another sip from his mug. “Never thought I’d ride a dragon neither, bloody terrifying,” he added after a small burp, resting his mug back on the table.
“It's been a week of many firsts,” Dany said dryly, leaning back against the wall, pulling the blanket tighter around her. She took a smaller sip of wine before asking, “How’s Jon?”
“Davos is with him now,” Gendry offered. “He’s strong, the king, anyone else woulda…” Gendry sighed, not wanting to say those words they all feared. His forearms rested on the table, his mug in hand. The dim light from the hanging candleholder swayed with the ship’s groan, dancing shadows on the walls around them.
“He has nine lives, from what I heard,” the Hound said with a mocking tone. “The Lord of Light’s chosen one those two.”
Dany’s brow furrowed quizzically at Sandor, meeting his gaze, wanting him to explain further what he meant by that. “I'm not sure what you are saying, Sandor, but…”
“Sandor, sounds so bloody formal, like my mum calling me for supper,” He sputtered drunkenly, giving her an almost embarrassingly shy look, something he did whenever she said his given name. But he successfully deflected her question, as was the custom whenever this topic came up.
“Please, can someone be honest with me?” she turned to look at Gendry, imploring him to say something to her. She kept hearing whispers about “coming back”, a joke directed at Lord Beric Dondarrion as they left Eastwatch about being careful with “his last life.” It was a secret everyone was in on except her.
Gendry met her gaze, then looked over at Sandor who shrugged his shoulders in response, “Doesn’t matter to me, not my damn secret,” drinking deep from his mug again...
Here's a link to the rest of my story linkffn(nothing burns like the cold)