Daenerys' eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in the warm constraints of the bed she was lying in. Letting her head sink into the pillows once more, the sounds of waves gently brushing against the ship were soothing her soon to be racing mind. The sun peaked through the window, lighting up the musty room. Moments like these were few and far between, so she tried to relax and appreciate what little time she had before she would have to arise and deal with many issues that would plague her outside of her chamber walls. But for now, the mother of dragons will enjoy the moment.

She suddenly realised she was naked underneath the many blankets.

Then, as if a tidal wave had hit the ship, the events of last night came crashing back down on her.

Turning over, her heart jumped when she found the King in the North lying in bed with her, also lacking any clothing. She remembered what happened over the previous night, Jon Snow appeared at her door, then came a haze of kissing, pleasure and, well, many otherthings.

Jon looked oddly at peace in his slumber, in comparison to the constant gloomy and serious expression he always had adorned on his face. His scarred, handsome face.

There was something about him that was so attractive to Daenerys, yet she couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. He was a beautiful man, with stony grey eyes you could lose yourself in, his well-toned yet wound covered body. Like all northerners, he was incapable of telling anything but the truth, his honor could block out the sun. While this was a desirable trait, it also infuriated her from time to time, such as with Cersei at the Dragonpit. But Jon was incredibly humble for a man held in such high regard as he was. Adored by his people, he would always mention that he was a bastard, as if a warning not to approach him.

Jon treated her different that anyone, anyone she had met in her entire life. He talked to her not as a queen, but as a person. He does not follow her every word, he challenges her and sticks up for his own beliefs. Yet, as Jon showed last night, he could also worship her when needs be. She loved Drogo, but how they came together was unceremonious and she could feel rather submissive to him. Daario was an able lover, but there was no feeling for him, just physical lust. Jon had proved himself to be much more.

She heard him stirring, and froze as his eyes flickered open, gazing at her with a nearly hypnotic look, a pleased grin crept onto his face. Daenerys felt her heart jump as his arm hooked around her petite waist and pulled her closer to him, his body magnetic and warm. She sighed deeply, her head laying on his chest as they enjoyed each other's company, the sound of his breathing easing her mind.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked him, evidently trying to kickstart a conversation between the two.

"Like a log. Which is helpful, considering there's a lot to plan for today." He replied, his voice husky from just waking. Now that she thought of it, she had got a great nights rest also, perhaps the first since she lost Viserion. She drew small circles on his chest, but her finger ran into the borderline of one of the many scars on his chest. She glanced an apology up at him, but now that her mind was on the topic.

"How did you get these? How did you survive?" She questioned, voice full of concern. Jon gazed at her with reluctance, but he couldn't deny her the truth, not any longer. He had to tell her at some stage.

"My brothers at the Nights' Watch." He growled, Daenerys sensing clearly the issue was a sensitive one by his sudden tensing. "They did not favour me bringing the Wildlings south of the wall. In fact, they killed me for it."

Daenerys could not fathom the possibility of not having Jon in her life. How was he still here beside her? She snuggled closer to him, suddenly more grateful for his presence.

"But you're still alive."

Jon nodded and and turned to face her.

"Melisandre, a Red Priestess, brought me back to life. And then I dealt with the traitors." He explained with a hint of disdain in his tone. Daenerys knew of this woman, Melisandre, she was the same one that recommended her to invite Jon Snow to Dragonstone.

"Well, you're here now and you're well. That should be all that matters." Daenerys remarked, running her index finger up and down his spine, she felt him shiver under her touch. Those alluring eyes were back on hers again, and she gazed back into his. Leaning in slowly, Jon captured her lips with a gentle kiss, placing his hand on the small of her back.

When they parted momentarily, a content sigh escaped from Daenerys' lips, before she brought them back together, the kiss much more fiery and passionate.

Daenerys loved how Jon made her feel. He helped her forget for a while about the army of the dead and Cersei and just... everything. She just wanted here and now, it was all that mattered to her in the moment. Yet there was something nagging at her in the back of her head, and she couldn't quite shake it.

They shouldn't be doing this.

All those things she was trying to forget suddenly came back to mind. The Night King, her war with Cersei, her impending visit to Winterfell, her fallen child. It all came back. They needed to be preparing, not playing around like two lovestruck fools. She liked Jon, she would love to love him, but the time isn't right.

She pulled away, far sooner than Jon would've liked.

Sitting up in the bed, Jon looked at her with a questioning gaze. As bad as she felt about it, they did not have the time to fall in love with one another, although she feared it might be too late. But she could try to put straw in front of the river. She needed to be getting ready for their arrival in the north. They had no time for this.

"Missandei will be here soon, you should probably leave before she gets here." She announced rather coldly, and Jon couldn't help but feel as if he had done something wrong. She could sense he was confused and hurt, and her heart ached. An uncomfortable atmosphere had quickly filled the room, as Jon slowly exited the bed and started picking up his clothes which had been flung to the floor last night.

Daenerys avoided eye contact, knowing she would crack if she saw the hurt in his eyes. Jon began to get dressed, as she tried to look at anything in the room but him. It was surely harsh of her, but it was the right thing to do. They couldn't do this now, maybe after the great war and all the conflicts to come. She would love to spend time with Jon, but she was too busy, she was a queen after all.

Jon felt confused as to what had caused her sudden change of heart, feeling stupid as to why he couldn't guess why. It had to be something he did. Maybe she wasn't as fond of him as he had thought. Perhaps she wasn't as fond of him as he was of her. In fact, Jon felt infatuated with the Mother of Dragons.

Strapping on his boots, he rose and strided for the door, giving one lasting glance back at her.

"Did you regret last night?"

"Oh no." Daenerys thought to herself. She was anxious that he would come up with this conclusion.

"No Jon, of course not." She replied in a soft tone, relieving the fear which had gripped him. "It's just that... we have so much to prepare for, physically and mentally. This is the war to possibly end all wars, and we both need clear heads during this time."

Jon nodded, looking gloomy all over again.

Daenerys slid out of the bed, wrapping a heavy gown around her figure, walking over to him. "It's not that I do not like your company, more so that I do not have the time to enjoy it."

Jon swallowed and looked her in the eyes. Was he aware how his eyes made her feel?

"That's fair. I understand that, my queen. We're all under severe pressure." Jon agreed reluctantly, his voice low.

Daenerys placed her hand on his chest, which made his heart jump.

"Maybe when this is all over, we can live our lives together."

Jon shook his head.

"I don't know if I can take that chance or wait that long."

She smiled, and Jon felt light headed.

"Well I guess that's another reason for the both of us to win this damned war." She whispered softly, her gentle smile assuring him her future was to be spent with him, if they made it. Jon smiled weakly, and she saw right through it.

"I'll see you up on deck, your grace." Jon granted, and with that he left, leaving Daenerys to her conflicting thoughts as to what she had just done.

Jon closed the door behind him, and instantly felt like bellowing in anger. He missed her already, her presence alone. How could he contain his love for her until all these wars were fought and presumably won? He couldn't think long however, as he spotted Tyrion at the end of the hallway, looking quite unimpressed indeed.

"Jon, a word?"

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