He wants to tug her along, to lead her away from this place and find some privacy. The feel of her lips against his palm causes him to draw in a sharp breath, his limbs trembling against her. Whatever existed between them, it charged ahead like a wild bull. There was no slowing it or keeping it contained. How they managed as long as they did, he couldn't say. They were beyond that now and he had no desire to curb his feelings for her.

The light curl of her breath against his skin garners the same response that their first kiss had. He needed more of her and hated the idea of pulling away. "No, not Snow or Targaryen. Only you and me."

He nodded, having met many strange people and seen a number of odd things. The room they stood in was beyond him, but had to be accepted for the sake of those in stasis. She was at least not among them. That alone brought him a great deal of relief and peace of mind.

He leans in to catch her lips, stealing the kiss that had been dancing around his mind. It was brief, not enough but would sustain him for now. Good, she remembered their night together. "It's difficult to explain." Almost as difficult as telling her about an army of the dead. "Some are brought to this place with different memories or are pulled from different times. My sister is here, but she doesn't remember reclaiming Winterfell." His eyes meet hers, revealing his worry. "I didn't know if you were pulled from the ship as well."