Jon woke to find streams of amber light breaking the horizon through the porthole. His eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and he shuttered them against the piercing brightness. Easing into the realization that sleep would evade him, his mind flitted through the dreams of the previous night.

Dreams, he thought. I must've dreamt the whole thing.

But a barely imperceptible smile started to form at the crease of his lips as the sweet scent of Meereenese spices filled his nose. The sudden wave of emotions pooled in his chest and he gathered the courage to open his eyes. As his gaze fell to the halo of silver strands spread out on the pillow next to him, almost translucent from the sun, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

She looks more like a goddess than a queen. My queen.

As relief set in knowing that his dreams had been memories, Jon allowed himself a moment to relive how a northern bastard came to share a bed with the dragon queen.

After he'd locked the cabin door, Jon slowly moved toward Daenerys closing the distance between them. Every inch of his body urged him to claim her as if she were the last bit of fire in the longest winter, but he feared that she would turn him away knowing that he craved her in such a lustful way. When he could feel the warmth of her breath against his cheeks and could see the glint of the candle's firelight in her eyes, he couldn't hold back any longer.

His mouth covered hers instantly, suckling her lips and teasing her tongue. His hands sliding from her warm flushed cheeks, down her silky smooth shoulders. Caressing the curve of her back, he embraced her at her waist desperate to hold her close. He pulled back briefly after feeling a rush of heat swell within him when she released a low moan. Flushed and out of breath, he sought her eyes and melted under the heated gaze of this fierce woman. He knew he wasn't worthy of such pleasure, but he couldn't lose his nerve now. Not as the whole world was crashing around them. He searched in her radiant eyes for any trace of doubt, any semblance of objection but only found the same ill-fated desire that burned within him.

Knowing there was no turning back, he feverishly tore at her bodice in between hard sloppy kisses. He was anxious to discard the fabric between them. His fingers trembled as he untied the fabric shrouding her petite frame. It's silkiness lowering slowly, catching on the breadth of her shoulders, the slope of her breasts, and the width of her hips before pooling on the floor. He couldn't tear his eyes from her swollen lips and piercing stare. She had gathered his tunic in her sure and steady hands, breaking their kiss just long enough to slip it over his head and throw it on the floor. When it dropped he spotted an iciness in her eyes, he knew it was coming but he wasn't ready for it. For a moment he had forgotten the scars were there. His breath hitched at her gaze. His failures as a leader, as a man, were laid bare in front of her. Not that she hadn't seen them before but now this dragon queen's eyes studied each of his scars intently looking for answers that he couldn't give her. Not yet.

He felt as if she could see his heart beating as he breathed heavily, taking all of the air out of the room. He had never felt more vulnerable, more incapacitated. How could he explain to her that he was never fit to lead. She had Dothraki willing to cross the poison water for her and titles that proved her worthiness to be queen. But his sworn brothers had betrayed him when he just wanted to save them all. No, they killed me.

He didn't deserve to be in her presence let alone her bed. His eyes narrowed and looked down in shame. I don't deserve this happiness. He felt her close the gap between them and lightly stroke his torso. She traced his scars with her tongue leaving a glistening trail. As she knelt before him to reach the last scar nearest his long pants and undo the cinch of his belt, she looked into his eyes once more and whatever coldness had been there was replaced with a protective warmth...is that love? He thought what could he have done to deserve the love of this woman.

A gentle kiss on his cheek lulled him out of his reverie.

"Good morning, Jon Snow" Daenerys said coyly as her smile reached her eyes. Her hands gently stroked the rough tendrils of hair lining his chin.

"Good morning, my queen" he stated in his northern accent, gruff from disuse.

"It's a bit early for the formalities, isn't it?" She said smoothly, tickling his neck with small bites.

"Aye" he said while pulling her to lay on his chest and gliding his fingertips up and down the length of her back, "it is."

He leaned over her and chanced a light kiss on her lips. Though he kissed her tenderly, he could feel the blanket tighten over his waist. Just the thought of this woman sent chills down his spine. As he stroked her hair and attempted a more passionate kiss, someone knocked on the door. What time is it? He had seen the light coming through the window but the desire to return to his cold, dim cabin had escaped him.

"Yes?" Dany asked apprehensively.

"My queen, I was hoping you and...Lord Snow had a moment to discuss our strategy in the North," Tyrion said with indignation in his voice.

Dany's eyes shifted to him. "Of course he knows," she whispered to no one.

Jon nodded stoically. He didn't care if Tyrion knew what happened between them.

But she is a queen. Discretion is in her best interest, he thought.

"We will meet in the council room on the hour" she replied firmly.

"As you wish, my queen."

As Tyrion's steps faded, Dany turned her attention back to him. "If he knows, it's only a matter of time before the rumors spread," she said cooly.

"Aye." he said as he sat up and stared at the waves through the porthole, unable to face any doubt she might display on her face. He knew the memories from the previous night were all he could hope for. He wanted to run away with her, damn the Night King and Cersei Lannister. He wanted to take her to an island, away from the responsibilities of this life and love her, and make love to her and give her the children that she believes that she can't have.

"I am a queen," she began slowly "and I have a responsibility to my people. They deserve my honesty."

Continuing to gaze at the endless sea he stated, "I've been thinking for months now on how to move past these feelings. Telling myself that we don't have time for distractions. The Night King is coming and we need to be focused." He finally turned to look at her with desperation in his eyes. "But being here with you now, it's as if none of that matters if I don't have you by my side, Daenerys. I - I love you, Dany."

The smile she had worn had faded and her eyes seemed to search the room waiting for words to appear out of thin air. As she took a deep inhale and parted her lips for a response, a light rap on the door took their focus. "Your Grace, I have brought the water basin." Missandei said kindly.

"Just a moment." Daenerys replied. She turned to look at him, but he had edged out of the bed and donned his tunic and long pants.

As he approached the door, he looked back at her with longing eyes, knowing this conversation wasn't over. She returned his gaze and gave a short nod of understanding. He opened the door and passed by Missandei with a tilt of his head and a brief "Mornin'".

Jon strode the length of the corridor quickly, wanting to put as much room between himself and whatever rejection Daenerys had planned to say. Back in his stateroom he bolted the door behind him and sat upon his bed with his unsteady hands running through his hair, just now realizing his small bun had been let loose during their consummation.

He didn't know if the northern lords would accept Daenerys and her armies, he didn't even know if their combined retinue would be enough to stave off the war the Night King was bringing. But he knew that the frozen walls of his heart had melted for this impossible woman.

As his thoughts went back to Tyrion's visit, he remembered that he had to prepare himself for the council meeting. He shook his head vigorously hoping to remove any remaining thoughts of her, although her scent lingered heavily. He undressed and bathed with the basin that Davos must've left.

As he opened the door to his cabin, he inhaled a deep breath and said a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening. Old Gods, New Gods, Lord of Light, whoever you are that brought me back. He prayed that if he shielded this world from the evils beyond the wall that the gods would see fit to reward him with his life. A life he would pledge to her. Hoping his prayers were heard, he walked through the threshold and headed to the council meeting.