Jon was tired. Not in the way you could make up for with a nice bath and a long rest but in a different way. His bones ached, yes, but his mind and his heart did too. He was tired of fighting and being strong. In his heart was a deep longing for happiness and peace but he didn't know how to reach it. His head was filled with strategies, battle techniques and a repetitive image of the Night King and his ice cold eyes. He would die in the war against him, Jon was sure of it. So the only way left for him to get his happiness and peace would be in death.
It was past midnight and he sat at a table in the belly of the ship that would carry him back north. He had already discarded his armor and was sitting there in nothing but his pants and his tunic. He felt the waves crashing against it and heard the groan of the wood as he studied the drink standing before him. Strong alcohol Tyrion recommended. Surely the liquid would make his throat burn and let him forget some of his problems for the night. But he couldn't convince himself to drink it. He had never been particularly fond of alcohol and especially in a time like this he liked to keep his mind sharp.
But in his mind all the strategies, techniques and ice cold eyes merged to one never ending sequence of images, one which he was forced to think about at day and dream of at night. But underneath it crept one soft one. At first it had been just eyes. Not ice cold ones like the Night Kings but a pair of violet eyes, which were kind but also strong. Then lips, so soft that he yearned to touch them. And they could shape a smile so bright that, for a moment, it was capable to illuminate all the darkness in his heart. And then hair, a veil of silver hair, that would surely feel like silk in his hands. It all came together to form one perfect image of the woman, -the queen he corrected himself, who lay in her cabin just a few rooms distance from him.
There were so many things in his life that he didn't see coming. His death for starters, his resurrection, his coronation as King in the North. But of all these things she was the one he didn't see coming at all. All his dreams about love shattered to pieces the moment Ygritte died in his arms. But here he was, so trapped in the dark, that he nearly forgot that there was something like love in the world.
It was the worst timing he could think of. How could fate be so cruel to let him meet her when they would face the biggest war Westeros had seen for centuries? A war he could not come out alive of. That most likely the both of them would not come out alive of, because they were rulers that would die for their people. They were going to give all they've got. It's as simple as that. It's what makes him fall for her even more.
He tried to ignore this feelings but every new day in her presence made it harder for him. It was his duty to concentrate on the coming war and think about his people first. But he started to catch himself more and more often now thinking about just grabbing her and kissing her senseless. It drove him mad. She drove him mad. He couldn't miss the irony in that. And the worst part was, that she felt the same. Jon could see it in her eyes when she looked at him.
Was it any good to desperately keep his distance from her? In the beginning he thought so but now he wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe allowing himself to love her would make him stronger, would make him fight better and harder, because he would have so much more to loose.
Jon kept sitting there in the belly of the vessel alone with his thoughts, till he decided that he no longer wanted to be alone. He dismissed the drink, rose from his seat and went along the corridor in the opposite direction of his cabin.
Daenerys was sitting at the small table in her chamber. A map laid outspread before her. She studied it for hours and knew it by heart already, so it was a useless task but she just couldn't bring herself to get some rest. There was a whole army of thoughts in her head keeping her wide awake. Most of them about a war she had to face and some about the man she would face it with. A knock at the door brought her back to reality.
"Come in.", she said loud and commanding, so that whoever was behind the door would hear it.
The door opened slowly almost hesitantly only to reveal Jon Snow standing in the door case.
"Your grace." his voice was low, nearly husky and also sounded a little bit unsure.
To say she was surprised would be an understatement. She expected Missandei, maybe Tyrion but not Jon. Although if she were to be honest with herself it wasn't a big surprise after all. Their were dancing around each other for some time now. Sooner or later they would have to face what's going on between them. Their had been avoiding it for weeks now, knowing that it would complicate things. But she knew things already got complicated , because these feeling were already there and kept growing. And a small hopeful voice inside of her kept whispering, that maybe to give into this feelings could also make things a little bit better.
"Jon.", she welcome him. She called him that sometimes now, like he called her Daenerys but they both stuck to the formal adressing more often. It was safer.
"Can I talk to you?", he sounded serious, like always. She let out the breath, she didn't know she held. And all her boldness left her. Maybe he visited to talk about politics after all.
"Of course.", she said matter of factly and went to stand in front of the table. It didn't escape her attention, that Jon swallowed hard when he laid eyes on her in her night dress. A feeling of satisfaction swept through her.
He came in, closing the door behind him and halted in front of her. Still several steps away, too far away to touch him but near enough to smell his tempting scent. She stood there silent, waiting for him to speak. Her heartbeat quickened just at the thought, that they were alone in her chambers. At night. She had thought about it for nights now.
"I ...", he began, looking into her eyes and boldly taking a step forward. Daenerys heart jumped at his sudden movement. She was wrong, he wasn't here to talk about politics. He was way to close and way to nervous for that.
She felt her own nervousness taking possession of her body and leaving her to stand still. What would he say? Would he finally tell her, that he wanted her?
To be honest she craved for him to say those words. But he struggled to find them. Instead he lowered his head and took a deep breath.
She understood what was keeping him. To address this connection between them, meant that there was no going back. It was a grave decision that would change everything. But somehow that was exactly what she wished for. She had been alone for so long. Even though there were so many people around her every day, her heart had been cold, lonely. That was until she met him. Somehow this northern king ignited the fire in her heart again.
"Jon.", she said again. This time softer, more intimate. She didn't know what else to say. All words left her. At her calling he looked up again and what Daenerys saw shook her to her core. He looked desperate, vulnerable and so in love.
"I think you know what I'm trying to say. Don't you?". It wasn't a question, not really.
And of course she knew what he was trying to say. She longed for it. However now that he was ready to open up and admit what both of them already knew she was scared. Not in a way that would make her want to run away from him, on the contrary. But she was afraid of the moment she had to let him go and walk out on to the battlefield. Cause it was likely that he would never return and leave her fiery heart in ashes.
"I didn't know what to expect when I came to Dragonstone but I have certainly not expected you." He breathed in deeply and exhaled his last words with a shaky voice. "Not at all."
There was so much more to say but the words lingered unspoken in the space between them. Instead Daenerys found everything she needed to know right there in his gaze. In three measured steps she closed the gap between them and grabbed his hands. They were rough from all the weapons they'd wielded but they fit perfectly into hers. There was just as much that she could say but somehow a detailed declaration wasn't necessary at this moment. So she only told him, what she could no longer hold in,
"You are not what I suspected either. You've surprised me in every way, Jon Snow."
Jon had known that she felt something for him but to actually hear it out loud still dumbfounded him. He had been sure that his only remaining purpose on this world was to fight against the White Walkers. And now she was standing here in front of him, with a fondness in her eyes, that was proving him wrong.
Gently he took another step forward pulling her closer to him. He could see the nervousness written across her face but also the affection that radiated beneath it. Carefully she folded her hands at his neck and both shivered at the contact of their skin. God, it felt so right to just hold her. Jon almost forgot how to breathe. They took their time, capturing each other gazes, lips shifting slowly closer.
He had never felt like this before. So raw, vulnerable and yet hopeful. And most of all he felt like himself, not like a bastard, Lord Commander or King in the North.
Just like Jon.
And with this thought in his mind they both crossed the last space that was keeping them apart.
It wasn't a collision, there was nothing boisterous about it. It was just the two of them finally able to express their feelings for each other. And what they felt wasn't just lust, it was so much more. It was overwhelming and reassuring at the same time. They discovered each other softly. At first just a kiss on the lips. Then Jon's hand found it's way into Daenerys long locks. (Like silk just like he thought.) The other on her waist pushing her even more close. His heart was racing inside his chest at her nearness. When he finally deepened the kiss, she moaned loudly and the sound made his whole body tremble. Come what may he would always have this memory of the taste of her lips.
Daenerys buried her hands in his hair. She wanted to touch it the first time she saw it blowing in the wind, the day she allowed him to mine the dragonglass. She didn't know him then, the real Jon, but so much changed since then. Their feelings for each other changed, grew and currently left them breathless. And she still needed more; wanted more of him, of his touches, of his body, of his mind. All that he was willing to give to her. Her hands wandered to the hem of his tunic and she could feel him tensing the moment she grazed his naked skin. With one swift motion she pulled it over his head, which made his hair an even more tousled mess.
God, he looked beautiful, even with all his scars. They were a part of his story. A story she wanted to read every chapter of. She was about to kiss him again, when her gaze landed on his chest. It paused her breathing for a moment. There, right were his heart was located was a long, thick scar.
"So Davos told the truth, you took a knife into your heart for your people." Careful she traced it with her fingers, as if she was afraid to hurt him. "How?"
Jon knew her full question. How was he still here?
"I was dead. A sorceress named Melisandre brought me back." Daenerys breath hitched. Melisandre, the same sorceress which told her to summon him. What had this woman all done for them. And most importantly: Why?
Jon put a finger underneath Daenerys chin and lifted it up to look her in the eyes.
"It doesn't matter. Not anymore. I'm here now. That's the only thing that matters." His words were calm and soft and she recognized that he had made his peace with it. Nevertheless it hurt her, that he'd had to endure so much pain.
"We both walked such rocky paths to get here.", She declared with a sigh.
"We did", he answered, "but what matters is that we're here. Tonight. Together." He placed another soft kiss on her lips.
"Together.", she repeated with a crooked smile and a memory about the two of them in a cave flickered before her eyes.
"Together.", he said again, like a mantra. And with that he picked her up and carried her to the bed. When he saw the big smile plastered on Daenerys face, he knew that he made the right decision to come to her tonight. After all the blood, shit and death he had to see in his life, her smile was a sight for his sore eyes. Indeed, rocky paths led them here. She had told him about hers in shortform the day they met and his heart ached when he thought about all that had been done to her. But tonight she was smiling and he was the reason for it.
Calmly he stood in front of the bed, untied the lace of his trousers and let it fall to the floor. If he hadn't already felt hot, the gaze with which she roamed his body would surely have had the effect. Without hesitation he joined her on the bed and she welcomed him with her lips.
She roamed his body with fevered hands and pressed him flush against her. His skin felt so good under her fingers. It was as if all her Targaryen fire was pulsating inside her wherever they touched.
"Daenerys.", he whispered breathless to her ear. Her name escaping from his lips was all it took, to use up er patience. She needed all of him. Had been needing him for a long time, even though she just realized it.
As if he felt exactly the same, his hands pulled at her night dress and freed her from it in just a few seconds. But when he saw her sprawled out naked before him all haste left him. He needed his time to fully take in the view. God, she was beautiful. The most beautiful sight he had ever seen. If it wasn't for his frantically beating heart he could almost think that he was sound asleep, dreaming all of this.
Daenerys haste subsided as well, when she felt Jon's gaze upon her. He looked at her like no one before. Like she was the most precious thing. It was almost as if she could see his heart, which beat now for her. She reached out and cupped his cheek and he leaned into her touch.
"My queen.", he called her devotedly. Coming from his lips it was so much more than a title. It was a promise.
He continued his caresses and put feather light kisses on her shoulder, her neck, her lips and positioned himself gently at her entrance. They both knew that right now was no time for foreplay they simply just needed each other in the most intimate way. So without any more reservation he slipped into her, a groan escaping his lips. She followed with her own. In the beginning he trusted softly into her. Adjusting to this new found, overwhelming feeling of her. But soon their movements became more erratic and determined. They bathed in all their touches, moans and whispered words of devotion. Afterwards they lay entangled in the bed cooling down from the fire that just occurred between them. And when they finally fell asleep from exhaustion they held each other tightly. Jon still didn't know what the future might bring but for the first time in months he didn't mind not knowing.
