The second he saw her, he knew he would fall for that woman. As she slid off the back of her huge black dragon with elegance and ease that were unnatural even for a woman, he watched her and he couldn't even take a breath.
"Drogon! Calm down!" she said and her voice was coloured by strength and pride, and decisiveness. She had the manners of a person who knew how to give orders. Her chin was up, her eyes shining brightly with determination. She walked with her back straightened and she had the air of a person who was not used to taking "no" for an answer.
She was nothing like Ygritte, Jon noticed, and yet she was as Ygritte-ish as it was possible for someone to be. It had been years since Ygritte's death (for which Jon still blamed himself), but he still compared every other woman he met to her. She had changed him, she'd made him a different person, a better man, a better warrior. She had shown him love, she had taught him passion. She had changed his and she had given him identity. But she had never managed to make him feel as he felt now at the sight of Daenerys. Silver-haired and purple-eyed, with dark, sun-tanned skin and gracious movements, stunning Daenerys Targaryen stood in front of him and he stared at her with astonishment. He could feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. She was standing there, proud and beautiful, and he was speechless. His true queen.
Her vulnerable, fragile body was wrapped in animal skins and her bronze skin, marked by the years spent in the desert, covered in a thin layer of dust, she looked more like a wildling rather than a queen, so when the words came out of Jon's mouth they sounded, to him, more than natural.
'Welcome on the Wall, Khaleesi,' he said as he knelt before her and his black locks of hair brushed the ground. He felt her purple eyes burning on his neck.
"I believe she prefers 'Your Grace', bastard," a voice came from behind the queen, sharp and bold, and painfully familiar.
The person who had jumped off the white dragon, and was now ducking towards Jon with a wide smile on his face, was unmistakably Tyrion Lannister, the Imp. He stopped next to his queen and looked up at Jon, raising an eyebrow at him, clearly amused.
"Nice to see you again, Lannister," Jon grinned, and he felt a pleasant warmth sparkle inside him as he looked at his oldest friend.
The dwarf stared at him for a while
"It's been a long time, huh?"
"Aye," Jon agreed. " You've missed a lot, it seems. I'm not a bastard anymore."
He smiled at the thought. It was a good feeling, not to be a bastard. He'd talked to Howland the Reed a few months ago. He had refused to believe at first, he had found it highly improbable, tall tales even, that he was Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark's son but he was getting used to it now.
"I actually do," the Imp said, laughing. " And you aren't the only one who turned out to be a Targaryen. Unfortunately, I am the bastard now."
As he was talking to Jon, however, he noticed the way Jon and Dany were looking at each other, stealing glances, blushing, shyly meeting the other's eyes. He had not expected it but he should have; how very foolish of him. She was fire and he was ice; he knew both of them, he should've thought about that. They were naturally attracted to each other, these two, like magnets.
Jon suddenly jumped up on his feet, cutting Tyrion's speech in midsentece, and turned to Daenerys.
"Forgive me, your Grace, I completely forgot about you!" he spoke quickly, his cheeks turning a deep shade of scarlet.
Tyrion chuckled. Oh, yes, he had completely forgotten about Daenerys, no doubt he had. He asked his queen to excuse him and entered Castle Black. He was dying for some sleep and for some wine as well; these comforts he had missed deeply while on the road.
Daenerys smiled maiden-like to Jon, took steadily his hand and laced her fingers through his in a bold and shameless way. Smiling gently, she asked him to take her to the top of the Wall. She was quite quiet, not because she didn't know what to say but for Jon made her feel like no man before him. She blushed and burned on the inside, and desperately wanted to rip his clothes off; he ignited her passion and her needs and made her feel like a women again; and yet a side of her wanted to get to know him, to become his friend and then his lover. To fully, truly open up to him. He confused her.
As they got on the top of the ice wall, she trembled and hunched her shoulders, and Jon put his arm around her in order to "warm her up", as he said. She looked down. She'd flown higher on Drogon's wings but it was rather different. Drogon would never let her fall and yet she could easily fall from the seven-hundred-feet Wall, and her Drogon wouldn't be there to catch her.
A thought crept into her mind uninvited.
John would be there.
"It's beautiful, ain't it?" Jon smiled and took her hand, pulling her closer to the edge. She stiffened and grasped his hand even tighter. "Don't be afraid to fall, I'm here."
Her stomach did a flip as Jon's strong arms steadily wrapped around her bare shoulders. He was radiating warmth and every fiber of her body was willing to get burnt.
Fire cannot hurt a dragon.
She felt safe with him, safe and protected in his grip. No one could hurt her when she was with him… but she was the queen and she needed to talk to him as his ruler, not as a giggly girl who'd fallen in love.
"It is, indeed. Lord Commander, it is beautiful.. " she started, and wanted to continue with 'but not as much as you are', but simply said "and yet I am not here for this. We have a common enemy."
She swallowed and stepped back, careful not to fall. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. Jon nodded and looked at her.
"Well, lord commander…"
"Let it be Jon, your grace," he murmured and looked at his shoes who seemed to him quite interesting right now. "I won't be a commander for much longer, I fear. My brothers don't like my orders."
Dany looked at him for a while without speaking. He was honest with her and she did not expect that. She was used to being lied to and he caught her unprepared. He was such a curious person and she just craved to know more about him. From the moment she had heard about Jon, she had wanted to meet him, to get to know him. Was he more like Rhaegar? Or more like Lyanna? She couldn't know. But she felt like she could trust him. She really, really wanted to trust him.
"Let it be Dany, then. I'm tired of being called 'your grace', y'know," she smiled, and then gave him an encouraging wink.
"As your-Dany commands," Jon chuckled and suddenly remembered of Mance and that he'd told him the same so many years ago. Dany smiled again, this time wider, and her pearly white teeth nibbled at her full pink lips. She felt like the little girl she had been when she had met her sun and stars, her Drogo. Jon watched her reaction. He wanted to hear her laugh. He was sure she'd have a wonderful laugh. If he only knew how to make her happy…
"I do believe we could defeat our enemy together," she finally said, heaving a sigh.
"How are the White Walkers your enemy?"
"They are enemies of the realm," Daenerys said and as she spoke, she looked like a real queen, so determined to protect her kingdoms. "If Westeros is in danger, I must help my people, I must take care of them."
It'd been a month since Daenerys, Tyrion and the dragons had arrived on the Wall. Dany's army had followed them and soon Castle Black and Eastwatch-by-the-sea were full with people, eager to defend the wall of ice. Everyone had been preparing for the battle; they were expecting the White Walkers to appear any time. Hundreds of men, heavily armed, were patrolling the Wall; builders were steadying the Wall, smiths were making arrows and shields. Tons of Valyrian steel swords and daggers had been delivered. It was now a matter of time.
Daenerys and Jon had been spending a lot of time together, planning, talking and considering strategies, preparing for the attack. They'd smile at each other or "accidently" touch sometimes but nothing more. It was driving Daenerys insane and every time his skin touched hers, she wanted to grab him and tear his clothes, and have him right there, on the council table. Jon watched her every day and dreamt of her every night and he smiled every time he heard her name. And Daenerys felt the same about him and even though she tried to think about the White Walkers, she would always end up thinking about Jon. And she couldn't keep it any longer…
Dany knocked on Jon's door and entered his bedroom without waiting for an answer. She was so tired from waiting, from hiding, from dreaming, she was sick from the anticipation. She wanted him and she would have him. Now. He'd just had shower. His hair was wet, hanging by his face, water dripping from it, and he was only wearing his trousers. His bare chest was drenched in light from the lamp on his nightstand and she could clearly see every drop of water slowly sliding down his skin. She surprised him from the back, tracing his neck with fiery kissed. Jon turned around abruptly and looked at her, his pupils dilated, his breathing quickened, and Dany knew that he wanted her. He always had. Daenerys put her arm around his waist, pulling him closer, holding him tightly, and the other hand rested on this chest. Jon felt how hot Dany's skin was and he trembled from desire as her tiny palm moved down his abdomen. She kissed him on the lips, gently at first, then deepened the kiss, and he thought that it was like kissing fire, her tongue tangling with his. Dany stepped back and looked him in the eye. She couldn't believe it was true. She was shaking.
She put her arms around his neck and he put his on her waist, pulling her even closer, eager to have her, unwilling to let her go. Not now, not ever. He wanted her to be his for eternity. Daenerys buried her fingers in his wet hair and kissed him again, savouring in his taste, in his warmth. He was hers. She wanted to have him for eternity.
She pushed him back on his bed and sat on top him, kissing him more and more passionately. Their lips collided and it was like fire and ice were meeting, and everything was freezing, and everything was burning. Her kisses were driving him crazy. He wanted to stop her, he had taken his vows… but he couldn't control his desire. He wanted to make her his, he wanted her to make him hers. They belonged with each other. Fire and ice, ice and fire. It was meant to be.
She was wearing only his black cloak, which she'd somehow stolen and when he took it off, he knew for sure that he would never, ever let her leave him. They switched positions. He kissed her wildly, roughly, and she scratched her nails down Jon's back as he kissed her neck and her breasts, and her tummy, and he went down… She bit him on the neck as they became one, and then kissed him again and again. Everywhere. It was the goddamn apocalypse as their souls and bodies and hearts turned into one inseparable whole.
She grabbed his hair and pulled him closer and closer. They were two separated parts, always missing something, always looking for the other, and now they were finally complete. She felt him in her and she didn't want him to go. She wanted him there forever.
He felt her skin, as gentle as silk, burning beneath his cold hands. As he kissed her neck he breathed the scent of her and buried his face in the curves of Dany's neck. Then she covered his face and neck with kisses and they burnt like fire and he could only whisper her name again and again, and again.
As they finished, Dany buried her face in his hair; otherwise she'd scream. She put her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and he put his arm around her. Jon kissed her on the forehead and she closed her eyes but she knew that she wouldn't fall asleep. What they had done was stupid, spontaneous, it was a mistake and yet they would do it again, without hesitation, with no regrets. And so they did.
All the feelings they'd kept inside themselves for months now exploded and turned into kisses and passion. As they lay in bed, their bodies sweaty and tangled, Dany suddenly leant forward and kissed Jon like she'd never kissed anyone else, with such love, such passion, such desire that he thought he'd die.
They just lay, holding each other safely in their hugs, when Daenerys whispered.
"Jon?"
"Mmmm," he murmured, too exhausted to say anything, and opened his eyes.
"Would it be weird if I told you that I love you?"
He chuckled and brushed away a few sweaty silver locks that were sticking to her sweaty forehead before he placed a gentle sweet kiss between her eyes.
"Yes. It would. But I like weird. And love you too, you know. Sleep tight, my beautiful dragon queen."
They were fast asleep, holding each other tight. The blast of a horn woke them up.
"Rangers," Jon thought.
Then there was a second blast and Jon knew it had begun. There were no more wildlings in the North; they were all either dead or part of the Watch now.
Three blasts.
"Three blasts are for the White Walkers," he whispered and looked into Daenerys's eyes. She was sleepy and her eyelids were still heavy and swollen but his words were like a slap across her face.
She jumped up in bed and Jon was proud to see that there was no fear in her eyes or on her face.
She was a dragon.
"Men of the Night's Watch," Jon began and looked at his brothers with determination. "The time has come. The battle we've been preparing for!"
All men were watching him, men armed, men prepared for fighting. Men ready to die in order to protect the realm. His men.
"We are the swords in the darkness! We are the shields that guard the realm of men! THIS is the great battle! You've all sworn you'd die on your post! Now is the time to risk your lives! NOW is the time to succeed and save all people… or to FAIL and DIE! Do your duty, brothers! Defend Westeros! Defend the Seven Kingdoms!"
His men picked up their Valyrian steel swords and shouted; angry cries of bloodthirsty soldiers, angry cries of men of steel. They were ready. He hoped they'd win this battle. They'd do their best to win. He walked to Daenerys, Tyrion and the three dragons. Tyrion had already sat on Viserion's back, a cocky smile on his grotesque face. Jon pulled Dany for a hug and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent. He held her tight in his arms for a minute, then whispered gently in her ear.
"Please, don't do this. I can't lose you."
Dany pushed him back suddenly and glared at him
"Jon, I am not a little girl! I am a queen! I need to fight with my men; I need to be there for them! They need me!"
"I need you, too! You are my Dany! You can't die! I will not lose you!"
"I will be up there, where they can't hurt me!"
Daenerys gently touched Jon's face and took his hand in hers. She was genuinely touched by his worry; she felt the same for him but she understood his need to fight. Why couldn't he understand hers?
"I will be alright, Jon. Drogon will protect me."
"But..," Jon murmured, biting his lip. I want to protect you, he thought.
"Are you a dragon or not?" Daenerys snapped at him and at this very second she did look like a dragon, a beautiful and dangerous, deadly dragon, a powerful, furious fiery creature of old Valyria.
"Yes. YES, I am. I am YOUR dragon," Jon shouted and he grabbed her face, and pulled her in, and kissed her angrily, leaving her panting for breath. She squeezed him and then pushed him away.
"Good! Then fight like one!"
She jumped on Drogon's back with the same graciousness she had slid off his back the first time Jon had seen her. The was scary, yet beautiful. His scales were black, his horns and spinal plates - blood red and his eyes were smoldering red pits. He stretched his wings and rose up. His wing flap sounded like the clap of thunder. Viserion followed him. The majority of his scales were cream but his horns, wing bones and spinal crest were gold colored. His teeth were shining black daggers. His eyes - two pools of molten gold. He reminded Jon of Tyrion, in a way, so fierce, so intelligent and lively, and maybe that was why the Imp had chosen to ride Viserion.
Jon watched them as they flew over the Wall, flapping their wings. Rhaegal approached him.
"Why aren't you up there, buddy?" he asked. Jon hadn't ever noticed how amazing the dragon actually was. He just knew that Rhaegal was the green dragon, he had never paid more attention to him. But he watched him carefully now and he saw that Rhaegal had green and bronze scales; dark green, the green of moss in the deep woods at dusk, just before the light fades and they gleam like jade. His eyes were a bronze, brighter than polished shields and they glowed with their own heat.
"You want me to ride you?" Jon asked with astonishment and tentatively got on Rhaegal's back as the dragon knelt and allowed his rider to mount him.
Rhaegal rose up in the air. Jon felt the hot scales of the dragon between his legs. It felt good; it felt like Daenerys. He could feel the wind in his hair, and it was amazing. He looked down and he saw his men, fighting the White Walkers; dark figures with bright, shining blue eyes. They were being stabbed with the Valiryan steel and they were dying, and the brothers on the Wall were shooting them with fiery arrows. And then he heard Daenerys's voice.
"Drogon! Dracarys!"
Black flame, shot through with red, burned hundreds of the blue-eyed creatures.
"Dracarys! Viserion, dracarys!" shouted Tyrion Targaryen and the dragon breathed out pale gold flame, shot through with red and orange. Tyrion laughed loudly as he grasped the dragon's neck. "I think I like this!"
Jon was insecure on Rhaegal's back but he held on tight. He closed his eyes and shouted.
"Rhaegal! Higher!" He could now see the whole battle from up here. He could still recognise his men, though and he knew what had to be done. "Dracarys!"
His dragon breathed out orange-and-yellow flame shot through with veins of green. Jon was astonished.
The White Walkers burnt down to ashes. The world exploded into flames and fire, and ice, and blood.
Daenerys Targaryen looked through the window. She could see wounded men, crying and dying from their wounds and men taking care of the hurt ones. Broken men after a hard battle. The door behind her opened suddenly and a fat man, wearing a chain on his neck entered clumsily.
"Maester Samwell," she said without even turning around to see him. The smell of blood hit her right in the head and she felt sick and dizzy. She knew the maester was covered with it from healing the men, hurt in the fight, and she felt a wave of pain and sorrow hit her angrily. "What are the losses?"
Dany wasn't ready to bear the news but she had to know. She had to.
"Hundred men of yours, Your Grace," Sam said, staring at the floor, spitting the words angrily. It was as though every word was poison. "Fifty of our brothers. Hundreds of wildlings."
"Ser Jorah?" Dany asked, hope in her voice, and she desperately wanted to hold on to something. She turned around and from the look on Sam's face she could tell that Jorah was dead. She felt somehow empty. As though a wall had just collapsed, and she let the tears flow. Her bear was dead. Her old bear, who had stuck with her to the very end. He had loved her, she had to admit, but she loved him too. As a friend, as a brother, as a father, even, but she loved him.
"And my Unsullied?"
"Ten of them, Your Grace. Brown Ben Plum as well."
It felt like being punched in the stomach. She took a deep breath and bit her lip, as tears wet her cheeks.
"Ser Selmy?"
"He's alive, Your Grace, helping his men."
"Oh, thank the Gods," Daenerys thought as she let out a sigh. The door opened abruptly and Jon entered hastily. She desperately wanted to feel his arms around her, she wanted his comfort and his kisses. She neededhim, she needed him so much. He looked tired, he was sad, smashed, angry and wounded and all he wanted was to cry for his lost brothers, to cry from despair and to hold Dany in his embrace.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said and his voice was broken. "Sam… Maester Samwell, I mean… Edd wants you to help him with the bandages."
"I'm going, m'lord," Sam said and left the room, hurrying.
As soon as the door had closed behing him, Dany ran towards Jon and pulled him in his arms. They both started crying, holding the other tightly, wiping away each other's tears, comforting each other; he was her fort, her castle, her wall.
Daenerys buried her face in Jon's hair and tried to calm down. She pushed him away for a second, looking deep into his eyes and then kissed him; a passionate and yet sensual kiss, which told a thousand unspoken words.
"Jon," she whispered, her voice trembling, and wiped her tears. She was shaking, hardly keeping herself on her feet. "Jon, I need you."
He pulled her closer, buried his fingers in her long, messy hair and looked into her purple eyes – deep like oceans, and gently touched her face. He put his thumbs on her chin and lifted her head up, making her look into his eyes.
"I am here. I'll be here for you forever."
She whispered in his ear.
"Hold me… Please… Just hold me.."
He held her in his arms and she laid her head on his shoulder, her heart pounding.
"I will hold you until I'm alive," Jon said and kissed her on the forehead, as gentle and sensual as anyone had ever kissed her.
"Jon… I need you with me.."
"I'm here, Dany, I'm not going anywhere."
"No.. I need you with me. In King's Landing. On the Iron Throne."
His eyes widened. He bit his lip and his arms around her loosened. She was begging him but he didn't utter a word, just held her in his arms as though she would forget about what she'd justsaid.
"Jon, PLEASE, I can't do this without you!" she shouted, out of her mind. She couldn't live without him, she wouldn't.
He pushed her away and looked at her angrily.
"How can you even ASK me to do this? To abandon my brothers…"
Jon closed his eyes and hid his face in his arms, breathing in and out deeply.
"I have said my vows! I have sworn to protect the realm! Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post.DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? Loving you hurts me, Daenerys! Being with you is slowly killing me! And know you ask me to do THIS?"
Dany sobbed. She understood; oh, she did. She knew it, she could see it in his eyes when he kissed her. But what could she do? She couldn't live without him. She'd only spent a month with him but she loved him; she loved his eyes and she loved his hair, she adored his face and his smile, she worshiped his strong, beautiful body of a fighter. She needed his ice to her fire. She needed him to be there for her. Until the end of forever.
Daenerys approached him and embraced him; they entwined fingers and she pressed her forehead against him.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do, Jon. It's your choice but you can't have me AND stay on the Wall."
"But I love you!" he said and the pain in his voice was killing her. It was an impossible choice, she knew.
"I know… I know… And I love you too and I know it's been only a month since I'd met you but… Jon, it's either your vows or me and Rhaegal and Westeros…"
Someone knocked on the door and Dany and Jon stepped away from each other. It was Sam.
"Jon… m'lord… A letter arrived for you."
Jon took the piece of paper and read it. It was from Robb, a letter, written years ago, so so long ago that the paper had started crumbling. Before he'd read it, he'd already made his choice, although he knew it was the wrong one.
When Sam left, Jon kissed Dany and laid his head on her shoulder.'
"I made my choice, my love."
Jon held Dany's hand and they watched the sunset from the top of the Wall.
"I'll be known as the Lord Commander who betrayed the Wall for two dragons," he said pitifully and a bitter laughter escaped his lips. Daenerys looked at him and touched his face with a trembling hand.
"It was the right choice, Jon."
"No, my love. It wasn't the right one but it was what my heart told me to do," he whispered, putting his arm around her shoulder. "You know, this was not the final battle."
"Winter has come," Daenerys nodded. "There is much more to come."
"Yes, there is. But we'll face it together, the two of us, and our dragons."
"I fear nothing when you are with me, my dragon."