No, her thoughts whispered, not like this. "Come back," she cried softly. And he did,his body took a swift turn and he now faced her. She lay there staring at the black curls falling on his face, his eyes were sad and yearning. She wondered if he had ever known love. Surely the men of Night Watch must have experienced a sort of a love before taking the cloak. An affair perhaps, a wench, a lady (Dany heard he was Eddard Stark's bastard), or even a whore. Dany tried to look and look but there was nothing there. He's eyes were empty, there was no fire in them, fire that she had known in most men but, then again,he wasn't most men. His were dark eyes, as dark as the cloak he wore. His eyes were solely vacant except for that slight glimmer of gentleness that melted her insides.
Dany tried to gain composure, she felt silly crying out his name, asking him to come back, but it was impossible. She felt so weak and vulnerable with him, it was all so strange. Her body trembled and her voice shaked. "Jon," she whispered as lowly as she could manage.
She knew he was a man of the watch, What was she thinking? What were they doing? Asking him to her tent in the middle of night with no other sole intention, yes it was true there was only one intention. She had tried to convince herself she only wanted a word with him but was only half the truth. She did want his words, always so kind and reassuring,but she wanted him and she felt ashamed. The guilt ran through her, guilt because of Drogo, guilt because of Jorah who warned her about this, he had seen the look on her face the first time she encountered the black brother, as they were called.
Dany remembered that day, she trusted him immediately. When he kneeled to her and spoke her name, or queen title that is, she knew she could follow him blindly. If Jon Snow told Daenerys Stormborn to follow him beyond the wall she most gladly do so. This ashamed Dany, her was the blood of dragons,not of weaklings. She was not a girl who fell in love with knights or that is Night Watch brothers, she was not a girl to follow men, men followed her and that's the way she liked it. Yet Jon Snow did not ask to be followed, others followed, he was rather well-liked and he was someone worthy to be followed.
Dany agreed with the most part. She felt he could be rather dull at times but she thought it was more of her brother of Night Watch role. She had seen him laughing with the others,such a wide,sweet smile he had. He was too charming, but Dany knew it was only she who felt so. Jon wore black all the time, with his thick furs and always carried a sword to the side. His face was always hard and stern but eager, he had no boyish qualities to produce charms nor manly features to produce desires.
Yet she desired him,but it was a different kind of desire. It was not only a thing of flesh but something else she could not put into words. She just knew when she saw him something called out and burned, at the same time something melted inside her. Never had she felt such fire and such chill inside of her. When he touched her, usually by accident and casualty everything burned,though it was not flesh to flesh touch for he always wore his black gloves. They said his hand was burned,others said it was burn to the point no flesh was left only icy cold bones. Dany could care less, she wouldn't mind either.
When he spoke to her, she felt the hairs behind her neck rise. Goosebumps crawled all over her, and she felt a thick rush of cool liquid running through her blood. Her maids mocked him,"The man of the North are cold,it is known. It is said in long,heavy winters their hearts turn into cold stones." Dany wondered how many heavy winters he had endured, though it was only summer, behind the wall, she had heard,it was always winter. He must still have a heart, I seen him laugh, his laugh is too warm,Dany said to herself. He must be warm, he was always respectful towards her, even kind at times.
She rarely got to interact with him for she avoided him. She felt safer and less vulnerable and less tempted that way. At the beginning Jorah joked with her, he thought she took a disliking to that Jon Snow. Then he joked no longer. He knows,she thought. And Jorah knew and he warned her, he said "He was taken an oath and you are bound to your people, don't forget what you came here for." And now she felt guilt for ignoring his fair warning.
But it was not only she who carried a guilty burden, she thought as looked at the curve of Jon Snow's face in the dark of her tent. He had taken an oath,he had decided to come here. He had known and he came, and the guilt was there. Jon Snow's decision reassured her, he is as guilty as I am.
But there was no guilt visible when Jon Snow's eyes met hers in her tent, but an endless solace in them. Only Jon Snow she called him, now she had just addressed him as Jon. She wanted him as Jon,not Jon Snow. She wanted to be able whisper his name, to say it over and over again until it worn out on her lips. How she liked his name for no other reason that it was his name. Perfect as he was.
Jon's eyes locked on her for a bit before he let the word slip out of his tongue,Daenerys. Not khaleesi ,nor your grace, nor my queen, but Daenerys. Satisfaction crept up Dany, even more so did the goosebumps and cold liquid in her blood. It was her name, not a title or a courtesy but her name. Dany smiled slightly but in the dark he could not tell. Jon kept his nervous eyes on her with that eagerness that she liked so much.
"Yes," she said weakly. She could not think of another thing to say but yes. Just as Khal Drogo had said no on their wedding night, Dany said yes to the brother of the Night Watch. She then let her hand reach out and cup his cheek. How she had craved that moment, to touch his flesh seemed like a long-waited victory. He was so cold. She wondered whether it was the cold outside the warmth of her tent or if he was always this cold. Jon's face leaned against her hand,closing his eyes and accepting the touch.
"You are cold,my sweetling," the words slipped out before she could stop them. Sweetling seemed like a silly word, surely the Dothraki women would laugh at term of endearment. But sweetling was the word she had heard the old kind Ser Willem calling his long-dead wife. "She was my sweetling, she was always sweet," he had told Dany. She'd never thought she would call anyone that, but she did now.
"I am cold," he breathed out holding on her hand with those black gloves of his. "But I'm used to it," he said pulling the hand away from him and back to her. Dany accepted it as a defeat, she felt ashamed and decided she rather not speak. They both remained silent for seconds until Jon's gloved hands brushed up against hers seeking her touch. Dany felt air come back to her, she touched the tip of his fingers and she spoke, "Can you take them off?" She looked at him, his face tilting down and his eyes as deep as ever. "I am burned," he muttered. "I do not care," she replied.
Jon obeyed the command and peeled off the black gloves. Dany felt both hands, one was soft, the other was rugged and scarred. "You are cold," she said a sweet chuckle. Jon chortled lightly, "Am I?" He let his fingers enterwine with hers. Dany felt a unexpectant warmth sweep over her. "What are you,Jon Snow?" she asked keeping the entwinement. "A bastard," he said, there was no shame in his voice. Dany gazed at him,"Only that? That is so little. You are much,much more." "Perhaps. I been a lot, I suppose." Jon said letting go of Dany's hand.
Dany was becoming wary of grabbing and letting go. Dany wanted him, she was not sure in what way entirely yet. "Jon Snow…" she began. "You said Jon, you called me Jon," he interrupted. Dany blushed unsure why and grateful it was too dark to be seen. "I did," She said unconvinced. Dany reached out to touch his cheek again now more determined than ever. Her thumb rubbed the rough of his beard stubble. Her eyes locked on his, she would not let him go. "Why did you come? What is it that you want?,"Dany blurted out. It was rather a blunt thing to say, after all it was shewho had asked him to come,but he had come.
Jon's gaze dropped and he stood quiet for a moment. "I came because I wanted to, I came because I wanted to be here," he said with some shame in his voice. Here? But what does 'here' mean?, Dany thought. Was it her bed? Was he only trying to bed her? She heard the crows had many women, they took no wives but whores ,the saying went. If he was only trying to bed her and get her to spread her legs, Dany felt foolish and uninterested.
He looked up and he met her eyes, they were dark but there was also glint of warmth she had never expected. "I wanted to be here with you," he finished. It was this time that Dany's gaze dropped, she felt all the breath in her lungs slip out. Stop this, you are not a child, she told to herself. But why did she feel like one? She felt like jelly all over, she would sure tremble if he touched her, he was too close. Dany could not think of what to say that would calm all the feelings that were stirring inside of her.
The air in the tent had become so still that she could hear her dragons breathing. She could almost feel them with her, her dragons… She wondered if Jon would be scared of her dragons, many men were but she felt Jon would not. After all when the Night Watch had been inform of the Khaleesi's dragons many gaped and fled thinking Daenerys had conjure dark magic to bring back the dragons from the dead. Only Jon and others had felt the need to see them. She wondered what Jon thought of dragons. If fear wasn't what he held for then she wondered what. She thought of Jon's direwolf, "the white beast" Jorah had said. Dany laughed at Jorah's fear of the wolf, she did not fear the big animal rather she found it very beautiful and intriguing, just like his master.
"Daenerys," Jon asked snapping Daenerys out of her thoughts. His voice sounded hesitant, maybe he too heard the dragons and he did maybe fear them. Dany smiled, "I just thought about your wolf, where is it?" Jon furrowed his brow, "My wolf? He's outside. I told him to stay, I wouldn't bring him inside your tent. I don't think that would be right." "Oh. And this is right?" Dany said with a smirk. Jon's face became flustered, "No, no. I didn't mean that. I mean I guess this isn't right either." Jon moved and sat down to Dany's side, he sighed. Seeing him in between the shadows and the light peeking into her tent, Dany felt that burning sensation start. He was so empty and alone, and yet so full and alive. Dany wanted to be part of him, to know him, to hold him, to know every single word before he spoke. Dany wanted him in many ways, but she realized it now, she wanted him. She wanted his warmth, his cold, his nights, his mornings, she never wanted anything so bad. She had never had anything she wanted either. She realized it was time she had what she wanted.