The Dragon and the Wolf

By JBB

Jon Snow was standing on the deck, the cold wind biting at his face unmercifully. Inside, Davos, Jorah and Tyrion were enjoying some of the Queen's Dornish wine, sharing stories and laughter, knowing full well that such evenings in good company would be few once the war started. They would reach their destination in a day or two. Judging by the amount of snow falling since the previous morning, home was not far away. Winterfell. Bran, Arya and Sansa. How he longed to see them again. He would be glad to be back – and bringing with him precious allies. With Daenerys, maybe, just maybe they stood a chance against the army of the dead.

He knew the northern lords would not bow to the southern queen easily, but he was hoping he could convince them that she wasn't like the Mad King. That she truly cared about the people of Westeros. Perhaps when they would see the esteem the King in the North held for her; heard how she had sacrificed one of her dragons to come to his aid, then perhaps they would come to respect her like he did. Not that he only respected her – he knew perfectly well that he had completely fallen for her. It was quite laughable, really. Even if he was determined to focus his attention on the fight against the White Walkers, as the days passed, he could no longer deny his growing admiration for the Targaryen queen.

After joining the Night's Watch, Jon Snow had not been around many women, but he knew enough to recognize a beautiful wench when he saw one. When he first laid eyes on her, he was awed by her silver hair and striking eyes. She simply looked out of this world, nothing like he ever saw or thought existed. After weeks by her side, he knew without a doubt that he was completely and utterly under the charm of Daenerys Targaryen. Him, Jon Snow, a poor bastard king from the North. He knew he did not stand a chance. A woman like her, a true queen would never give the likes of him a second look. So he indulged himself, gazing at her whenever she was around. He told himself it was a harmless fancy as he never expected her to see him as anything more than a possible ally.

He would have remained forever a silent admirer, if it weren't for the look she gave him when he volunteered to go beyond the wall. Her eyes had shown fear, her voice had wavered. She was afraid for him. Jon had felt his heart tighten. Could she feel something for him? He dared not hope. And on the boat, after he had woken and she took his hand in hers, her thumb slowly caressing his calloused skin, he had felt it. A connection between them he could no longer deny, nor desired to. To hell with consequences and titles. At that moment, he was just a man in love with a woman. He wanted her to be his and him hers. In that cabin, he had bared his heart, looking at her with undisguised longing and want. But she had removed her hand. Of course.

How could he have ever thought that she felt the same? She was Daenerys Targaryen and he was Jon Snow, nothing more than a northern fool. If she could only give him her trust and friendship, then so be it. He would remain by her side as he pledged to her. She would be his queen and nothing more. After he was recovered enough, Jon had sworn to himself he would concentrate all his energy on the fight ahead and that's what he had done, until today. Until Davos had brought up the idea of another kind of alliance between the north and the south.

"Your Grace, if you are so concerned about the northern lords not taking your pledge to Queen Daenerys well, would you consider another solution?"

"I can't really see what more can be done, Davos. I just hope I can convince them we need her and her forces." Replied Jon.

"I was thinking that, perhaps, another kind of union would soften the blow. What if you and Daenerys were betrothed? The lords of the north would accept their king marrying a queen. Would they not?"

Jon protested vehemently. "Davos, surely you cannot be serious! Daenerys Targaryen would never entertain the thought of marrying me."

"And why ever not, your grace? You are the King in the North! This alliance would benefit her as much as you. Also, forgive me your grace, but I think such a union would not be unpleasant for both parties…" Replied Davos, winking.

"Aye, as you already know it, I will not pretend the queen is leaving me indifferent, Davos, but I know I can never hope for more than her friendship…" Said Jon, darkly.

"My lord, I can assure you that you are wrong. I may not look like it, but I know enough about women to recognize the look of one in love."

A strong burst of wind billowed around Jon's cape, chilling him to the bone. Enough brooding. He needed to get warm and sleep a bit. He sighed and went downstairs. Ser Davos' words still resonated in his head. Could she really love him? Did he stand a chance after all? He stopped in front of her chambers and hesitated. "You fool. Go to bed." He thought. Before he knew what he was doing, his knuckles were rattling on her door. And then, she stood in front him, questioningly, realization slowly dawning on her face. Jon just stared at her helplessly. It was late at night. He knew how it looked like. He should not have been there, but he couldn't bear it any longer. If she didn't want him, then he needed to hear it from her. Then he saw it in her eyes. A resolve. And an invite. She stepped aside, welcoming him into her chambers. Jon stepped inside, and without breaking eye contact, closed the door.

Jon Snow was breathing hard, want written all over his face. His expression looked almost pained. Daenerys had tried, but she could no longer deny the attraction she felt for the northerner in front of her. Since that day Viserion had died and he had almost been taken from her as well, she had realized the extent of her feelings for the bastard of Winterfell. Judging by the look in his dark, soft and mesmerizing eyes, she knew he felt the same. To see him abandon himself entirely to her had scared her. At the time, she could do nothing but flee. She was not ready for this. She had not loved another since Drogo. She had not thought herself capable of love anymore. Not for a man. But this Jon Snow had somehow managed to make her heart beat again.

Jon was standing still in front of her. She knew he was waiting for her to make the first move, to close the gap between them. Her hand found his chest, slowly traveling higher and higher until it rested on his shoulder. She took a step forward, her eyes inviting and warm, her lips slightly open. Her breathing grew ragged like his and at last, his arms encircled her and his mouth came crashing down upon hers. His tongue was dancing with hers, unrelenting. His hands, strong and warm were pinning her against him. Why was he not naked yet? Daenerys tugged at his belt until it came undone and it fell at their feet with a thud. The noise seemed to bring Jon back to reality.

"My queen… Daenerys…", Jon said hoarsely. "Shouldn't we stop? I don't think I'll be able to control myself much longer…"

"Please don't stop…" said Daenerys, huskily.

Jon growled and picked her up, heading for the bed. That night, the dragon and the wolf fell asleep, limbs intertwined and blissfully unaware of the world around them. A small reprieve from the fight ahead, on that boat, rocked by the waves.