I would just like to apologise profusely to all of the wonderful people who reviewed, favourited and read this the first time it was posted. Your wonderful words nearly made me cry and I am incredibly grateful to have other people say such kind things about my writing. The reason I deleted this fic originally was because I wasn't aware of George RR Martin's negative stance on fanfiction and after reading quite a few of his blog posts about not approving of fanfic and not wanting other people 'playing' with his characters I felt like the best thing to do was take this down as it goes against the original author's wishes. However, I've had a few messages from people who really enjoyed this fic and I've decided to reupload it again for a few reasons. Firstly, isn't the show kind of fanfic now? It's definitely diverging from the books and David and Dan are basically playing with the characters in their own way (no disrespect meant, I love the show just as much as I love the books). Secondly, I've seen a lot of Dany hate lately that's really got me down and I'm kinda sick of reading about her as a OOC villain and Jon as some brooding sympathetic hero who needs rescuing from her. There's a lot of Jon/Sansa stuff now online, which is great cos we're all entitled to ship whoever we want, that's the fun of fiction, but some Jon/Sansa includes a lot of Jon/Dany and just general Dany bashing and I just really want to put out a fic where I feel Dany is more realistic and sympathetic. Lastly it's not fair to the people who have enjoyed this and left me such lovely reviews. So yeah, I'm really sorry George RR Martin, if you ever happen to see this it's nothing serious and no copyright is intended at all and please don't sue me because I'm broke. Sorry for the long author's note, I just wanted to explain myself :)

She's hot on his tongue.

The dragon queen is as much fire made flesh as her children; despite the freezing cold of winter biting at them through the walls of Winterfell, Daenerys is always hot to the touch. She warms him in more ways than one. It's no secret that Jon is a sombre man, a trait inherited from Eddard Stark. But sometimes he finds himself smiling, a small, tender smile when she doesn't know he is looking and he can fully drink her in. Her eyes roll back, her fingers clench in his hair and her thighs clamp hard around his head as he tastes her molten heat; her grip is strong, like being caught in the claw of a dragon.

She's fire and he's ice and slowly she's melting him.

The first time Jon met the dragons he nearly pissed himself. The former Lord Commander is no stranger to horror, war and the supernatural. He's fought wildlings, wights, white walkers. He's drowned in a sea of dead and dying bodies in a war to reclaim his home from a sadistic monster. He's killed an Other and been killed by his own brothers.

That doesn't stop the sight of three colossal dragons flying over Winterfell making his legs shake and nearly buckle from underneath him.

Drogon didn't like him, which didn't surprise Daenerys. He quickly learnt that the winged shadow was not only the largest and most aggressive dragon but also the child closest to his mother. Drogon was fiercely protective of Daenerys. Jon only had to approach her too quickly and he would snarl, his hackles rising and his gleaming black teeth coming towards him. Dany would have to soothe him quickly, stroking his head with a tenderness that only came to mothers.

Eventually he warmed up to him. Despite a few initial snarls, nearly setting his cloak on fire and trying to eat Ghost, Drogon slowly became accustomed to Jon's constant presence around Daenerys. He wasn't sure that the black beast really liked him, but Dany insisted that other than her he didn't really like anyone.

Rhaegal took to Jon instantly. The green and bronze dragon, although smaller than his black brother, was still a sight to behold that was both wondrous and terrifying. Upon arriving at Winterfell with Daenerys, his brothers and the Targaryen army, Rhaegal seemed to take a shine to Jon, following him around and allowing him to pet the scales on his neck. This did surprise Dany; Rhaegal had a bit of a temper, not quite as fierce as Drogon's but still made worse from his time in the dragonpit of Meereen. The green dragon loved and listened to his mother- he'd sulk along with Viserion whenever she had to leave Winterfell to treat with other houses- but the bond was not as strong as it had once been. Still, it made Dany happy to see him warm up to Jon.

(Jon suspected it was because they both had common ground, sulking together when the silver queen was gone for too long.)

Viserion was the gentlest of the three dragons, and the smallest. The cream and gold dragon was generally tolerant of everybody who wasn't enemy and seemed to have forgiven his mother for his imprisonment. He was quick to submit to Drogon, the alpha of the pack, and the first to demand his mother's affection. Once the initial fear of the dragons had subsided, Daenerys had encouraged Jon to approach Viserion first. The white dragon had tolerated his hesitant touch, had even prodded him with his nose playfully. As long as he wasn't hungry, Viserion was definitely the tamest and most relaxed of the three.

(Jon also suspected that, besides his mother, Tyrion Lannister was his favourite person to be around).

The dragons had scared him, more than the Unsullied and the Dothraki. But seeing Daenerys interact with them had warmed something inside of him and a strange part of him he never knew existed became secretly invested in dragons.

His feelings for the khaleesi had been mixed at first.

Arriving at Winterfell on dragonback with an army behind her so soon after he'd finally taken it back from the Boltons had made him weary and almost resentful. She was a Targaryen, the last Targaryen and she had no reason to bear any love for a Stark bastard and his trueborn sister. Luckily for him, she had Tyrion Lannister beside her. The Imp had become something just shy of a friend to Jon during their time at the Wall together; maybe it was this that had swayed him to counsel Daenerys into siding with the Starks instead of against them. Dany was no fool. She was not blind to what her father was; she knew what he did to Rickard and Brandon Stark, what he did to all of his enemies and what he planned to do to King's Landing. She had also told him of her brother's relationship with Lyanna Stark, something she had always believed to have been sour and the cause of the Targaryen downfall from Viserys but soon learnt the truth of from Barristan Selmy. Rhaegar had loved Lyanna, and Ser Barristan had believed Lyanna loved Rhaegar. There was no reason to cause unnecessary bloodshed when the real enemy sat on the Iron Throne, she had said.

Then he had told her who the real enemy was, the white walkers approaching the Wall with an army of the dead, and her face paled.

There was an attraction there. How could there not be? Jon Snow was a man underneath his honour and sense of nobility, and he wasn't blind. Daenerys Targaryen was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, more beautiful than Cersei Lannister and his sister Sansa and any other woman he had laid eyes on. More beautiful than Ygritte.

(He felt guilty for thinking that.)

Dany was exotic and otherworldly, with the long silver gold hair and purple eyes of a Targaryen, a small but shapely body and creamy skin kissed by the sun from the east. She was beautiful, but she was fierce and strong, disregarding the norms expected of her due to her gender. She reminded him of Ygritte.

Ygritte had been kissed by fire, Daenerys Targaryen bathed in it.

With the taste of her still on his tongue he pulled his body forward to watch her as she came down from her bliss. Her eyes were glazed over and her lips were slightly parted, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. Jon leant forward and captured her lips with his own, drinking in the taste of the dragon queen. Despite the initial attraction and respect for her, love had come over time. But now it consumed him. She consumed him, like fire burning away at him from the inside. Her people saw her as Daenerys Stormborn, First of Her Name and all the rest of her many titles, but he knew her as Dany. He knew her fears and her worries, her dreams and desires, what food she liked and what food she didn't, her unearthly bond with Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion, her guilt and her secret fear that she would end up as mad as her father. He knew her lusts, what made her squirm and scream and gush molten heat.

He'd spend hours with his face between her legs, the sounds of her pleasure enough to nearly finish him.

Dany smiled slightly into the kiss, a lovely lazy kiss between two people who never knew how much they needed each other until the moment they finally met. It was a slow, delicious kiss, Jon savouring the taste of her. They could forget that she was a queen and he a bastard; when he was around her it was hard to feel like a bastard, despite knowing he wasn't good enough to marry her. They could even temporarily forget the army of the dead marching towards the Wall and the inevitable war that stretched in front of them. For a small, blissful moment it was just them, Jon and Dany, in their own perfect bubble away from the rest of Westeros.

"Jon," she sighed, taking his face in her hand. Their eyes met, purple and grey. She smiled and pushed a lock of damp hair from his face, turning him over and straddling him before enveloping his manhood with her heat.

He hadn't noticed he was sweating. Daenerys was fire, he was ice and he had been cold for so so long. But now she was here, and for the first time in his life Jon Snow felt warm.