Probably a bit late, but I realized I uploaded the wrong version of this chapter not only here, but also on archiveofourown almost a full day later. Sorry friends. Definitely dropped the ball here. Ouch.
Jon had slept restlessly through the night and dreamt of the night king and his army, dragons and Daenerys, but most of all he dreamt of the freezing cold.
He awoke to find snow blowing in through his open window. He rose and fought against the biting wind to shut it, shivering all the while. The stone below his feet was wet and shocking compared to the warmth from his bed. The hearth had burned down to embers and the room was so icy he could see the condensation of his breath.
The sun had not yet begun to peek over the horizon, but he could tell from the way the darkness had started to lift that it undoubtedly would soon. Most of the castles occupants would still be fast asleep. He considered laying in bed once again, but knew he would be unable to shake the cold.
Resigned, he dressed warmly, strapping Longclaw to his hip. He was not like to return to this room again before they parted for Winterfell. He stopped at the door and turned to look back, though dark he could still make out the deep ocean blue of the duvet on his bed. It reminded him of Daenerys and all that had occurred there just yesterday.
He flushed and shut the door, leaning against it for a moment. The hallways were pitch black as nearly all of the torches and candles had burnt out and it was still much too early for any servants to be up to replace them. He imagined briefly he'd run into the dragon queen and perhaps they'd have another private moment here in the darkness while the castle slept. Their first encounter had been far too brief. Recalling it was enough to make him feel warm again.
Jon wandered the corridors of the castle halfheartedly seeking the kitchens to break his fast, but in no real rush to find them immediately. It gave him time to think. So much had occurred yesterday it made his head spin.
Lord Manderly's offer to wed one of his daughters in exchange for his army and influence would have tempted any ordinary man, but it only served to confuse him. Before he met Daenerys Targaryen, he may have considered it. It was what was best for the realm, and it gave them the best chance for survival.
He always wished to do what was right, but now he was torn. He knew without a doubt that he didn't want to marry one of Manderly's daughters. He did not want to sacrifice whatever it was that he had with the dragon queen.
For the first time in his life he wanted to do the selfish thing, and he felt supremely guilty for it. Jon did not know if he was a fool, but he knew what was in his heart and he had never seriously entertained the idea of marrying anyone, let alone someone he did not love.
What he truly wanted was to get back on that ship with Daenerys Targaryen and set sail with no particular destination in mind. He wanted to live out his life somewhere warm where he had no obligations and white walkers were still only tales meant to frighten children into doing as they were told.
But he could not have all that he wanted. Perhaps for once he could have just the one, just Daenerys. I hope I am not making a terrible mistake. Jon exhaled, conflicted.
Ruling and diplomacy, courtesies and arranged marriages, how did he go from the simple life of a man of the nights watch to the King in the North? He wasn't his brother Robb who had been groomed as a child to grow up to be the next Lord of Winterfell after their father. He had no such training. Robb should still be King in the North, not him.
But he was dead and Jon was still alive. Sometimes he wondered why the god of fire had brought him back instead of his brothers or his father. That too confused him greatly.
The smell of baking bread interrupted his thoughts. He listened carefully and could scarcely make out faint noises coming from somewhere ahead. He followed the smell and sounds down a flight of marble stairs and was taken aback to find Tyrion Lannister sitting at a wooden table inside a dimly lit room adjoining the kitchens.
"Hungry?" The man tore a piece of bread from the loaf in front of him and popped it into his mouth.
"Lord Tyrion, I did not expect to see you or anyone at this hour." Jon sat down across from him, surprised.
He heard a clatter as a wooden tray hit the floor behind him and a bowl with figs spilled out over the floor, rolling almost where they were seated. A servant blanched upon seeing them both.
"M'lord, your grace, beg pardon." The old woman went down on her hands and knees to clean up the mess, her limbs shaking from nerves.
Jon stood and made to help her, but Tyrion grabbed the back of his cloak and shook his head. "Your grace, you're a king now."
He shrugged him off. "Then I can do as I like." Jon helped the old woman who only stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers. He then took her arm and pulled her to her feet. Her wrinkled hands trembled as she clutched the bowl and tray with white knuckles.
"Can you bring me something to break my fast? Anything will do." He asked.
The woman nodded, stunned. "At once your grace." Then she all but ran from the room.
"Keep that up and your people may even grow to love you." Tyrion grinned, waggling a piece of bacon at him. The sight of it made him realize he was absolutely famished.
"What brings you here so early in the morning Lord Tyrion?"
The man shrugged and took a bite of bacon, chewing thoughtfully. "Lose an hour in the morning, and you will be all day hunting for it. Some wise man said that once to me, but in fact your arrival is quite the coincidence, as I was just thinking that you and I needed to have a chat."
"What about?" Jon asked warily.
"I have a simple question for you Jon Snow. What do you think of our Queen?" Tyrion drank deeply from a cup by his plate then leaned back in his chair to examine him.
"What do I think of her? Well she's..." Stunning, arousing, brilliant, kind, he wracked his head for something appropriate to say.
He settled on "Formidable."
Tyrion snorted. "No," he took another bite. "I mean physically. You know. This." He gestured to his face and body exaggeratedly.
"She's..." He hesitated. "Very comely?"
The man choked, coughing to dislodge the food stuck in his throat. "Really? Comely? That's the word that comes to mind?" The man looked at him deadpan.
"Well I'm not blind." Jon said frustrated. "She's young and gorgeous." He ran a hand through his dark hair nervously. "Obviously."
"Yes, obviously." Tyrion stared at him. "Thank you." He tapped his arm with the end of a loaf of bread in his hand. "Now, what do you think of marrying her?"
Had Jon been eating or drinking anything, it would have been his turn to choke. The blood drained out of his face. "I-I can't."
"What? You just told me she was comely lad." The queen's hand raised an eyebrow.
"No I've taken a vow. Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children."
Tyrion sighed. "I know the bloody oath. Are you telling me you've died then? You're conveniently forgetting the verse after that one that says you shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I distinctly remember you winning the battle of the bastards and being named King in the North not long after that. So try again, what other excuse can you possibly have?"
"Daenerys is a queen." Jon argued.
Tyrion rolled his eyes. "I'm going to assume you're going somewhere with that."
"And I'm just a bastard playing at a king." Jon had lost his appetite.
"So you'd rather her marry someone else? This is what you prefer?"
The queen was descendant of a royal family, ancestor of Aegon the conqueror himself, and he had not considered until now that someday she would marry and set him aside for a man more befitting her title.
"No... I don't prefer that." He clenched his fist and averted his eyes.
"You're a dense one aren't you Jon Snow." Tyrion rubbed his temples.
In that moment two servants came in carrying trays piled high with all manner of foods. Boiled eggs, cheeses, salted meats including a rasher of crisp bacon. There were pastries and cakes, a cup of honeyed milk, fruit tarts, and more. Tyrion gaped at it all.
"All they gave me was a loaf of bread, figs that ended up on the floor, and some burnt bacon, mind you I like it that way but still." He stole a pastry from a tray.
"I'm not dense Lord Tyrion. I'm realistic."
"No you are thick headed, perhaps the Starks run that way. You're a king, she's a queen. What more do you need? Afraid you'll bore her in bed is it?"
Jon slammed the cup he had just picked up angrily, sloshing its contents onto the table. "What makes you think she'd just agree to marry me?"
"I've seen the way she looks at you and unlike everyone else I'm not an idiot. Besides you're the key to the North and Lord Manderly's little speech about neutrality and staying out of a southern war yesterday made me realize the man has a point." Tyrion drummed on the wooden table, ogling a lemon cake.
"There's nothing in it for the northern houses to fight for our queen in the south, provided any of us survive what's coming for us that is. Sure she can promise them lands and gold and the entirety of Casterly Rock, but they don't know her and her threats last evening will not be forgotten as easily as the tides wash away footsteps on sand. Words are wind. Now if their king became King of the Seven Kingdoms, then yes that would be different wouldn't it?"
Jon dared to think of it for a moment. He had no interest in crowns or ruling, but spending the rest of his lifetime, however short it may be with Daenerys Targaryen by his side did sound appealing. He had even considered it once, when he had awoken to find her sitting on his bed waiting for him on the ship. It had occurred to him to ask her to marry him in a brief moment of insanity. He blamed his injuries and exhaustion for the strange thought.
"Would she agree?" Jon stared down at his plate somberly.
"If you asked her I suppose she would." He nodded, breaking the delicate cake into smaller squares. "I've already spoken to her of it."
His heart stopped.
"When? The sun hasn't risen yet." And he had been near the queen almost the entire evening at the feast the night prior. He recalled how she had commanded the attention of the room, sitting amongst the soldiers for a time and then with the nobles or the children as everyone crowded around her listening to her stories from her life across the narrow sea. He did not miss the looks of other men as they undressed her with their eyes, or when they whispered in her ear and made her laugh.
She had smiled charmingly the entire night, enthralling even Lord Wyman Manderly and his daughters. The youngest had taken a liking to her necklace and without a care she had unpinned it from her dress and placed it around the girl's neck as a keepsake.
Sir Jorah Mormont, the queen's kindly knight had followed her around everywhere she went, at times placing his hand familiarly on the queen's lower back when the crowds would gather too tightly. Jon thought his hand lingered too long on her person.
Tyrion cleared his throat, bringing him back to the present. "I spoke to her this morning of course." The man leaned back in his chair, done with breakfast for now.
"She left only moments before you came in my northern friend. If she'd have stayed to eat as I'd advised, you would have seen her."
"Where did she go?" He asked, surprised.
"She wanted to see the sunrise over White Harbor from above. Couldn't talk her out of it. I imagine she's just now gotten far enough away to find an open field from which to take off from. Perhaps if you hurry you might catch her and make your proposal." The man's eyes twinkled mischievously.
Jon shook his head. "How will I know the way?"
"From what I remember of the maps of these lands the tree line ends somewhere to the north. That's likely the safest bet."
Without another word the King in the North went in search of the dragon queen.
Daenerys had exited the relative protection the castle offered through a small postern gate that opened into a frozen garden. It was snowing heavily and the wind whipped her hair wildly, but she would not be dissuaded. Above the clouds she knew it did not rain or snow. She lifted the hood of her cloak to shelter her from the blizzard, holding it in place with gloved hands as the wind threatened to knock it back.
The snow crunched under her boots as she walked. Fortunately the ground was mostly ice and the snows had not piled high as they were sure to do as winter settled. She observed through the storm that the flowers were dead, all save the winter roses growing stubbornly on the walls of the castle and against a trellis along the path she walked on. She touched a petal with the tip of her finger gently, removing her glove to feel it.
Curious. She thought. Daenerys did not know anything could survive in these temperatures.
The darkness was slowly ebbing as a sliver of sun peeked over the horizon. She continued, following the roses and gravel path towards an archway that broke into the forest behind New Castle. She had not seen a sunrise since Dragonstone, and it had never occurred to her to see one on dragonback until this morning. White Harbor would be beautiful from high above provided the blizzard abated long enough for her to get a clear view down.
She walked at a quick pace through the forest, but she was not afraid. After all she had lived if something out here killed her she'd sum it up to fate. Besides, with her dragons so close there were not like to be other animals out in the open.
Her dragons were so large now they had nowhere to land near the castle and she also did not want to frighten anyone with the sound of their wings, thus she was left with no other option than to find a clearing elsewhere.
The moon shone brightly overhead and she was grateful for it illuminated her way. Soon the forest thinned and she saw a wide open field covered in a blanket of white, and icy in patches where the dew had frozen to the blades of grass. The field reminded her of the one she had scorched on Drogon's back south near the road to the Reach. The screams of Lannister soldiers roasting alive inside their armor haunted her. They appeared in her nightmares, flesh sloughing off as it melted, arms outstretched for her.
She tried to remind herself that this was war. They would kill her as easily as she them had they the chance. One of them, Tyrion's brother, had tried to end the war right then and there. It was the first time she had seen the Kingslayer in person, the man who shoved a sword through her father's back. She knew him instantly from his Lannister hair and his golden hand, she could naught but stare as he charged her. She only stood frozen in shock.
Were it not for Drogon's sudden burst of flame in her defense, Jaime may have speared her as he wanted and the war would have ended in that moment.
She would worry about Cersei and her brother after and if they won the battle for the dawn. Until then it made no matter that they remained a threat south of the neck. What was the worst that they could do? Their armies were battleworn, weary, and depleted.
She stood in the middle of the clearing and stared up at the sky. The moon was full and lovely while the stars flickered in one thousand and one lights. The night was beautiful even in the storm.
Daenerys knew they would come, she did not understand how her dragons knew when they were needed, but they always came when she wanted. If there was ever a time where she waited and they did not arrive she would not know what to do.
Soon she saw dark shadows flying overhead, they circled above and Drogon landed first, blowing leaves and wind in her hair. Rhaegal landed closer to the tree line, much more gently than his larger brother. She wished that she had gotten an opportunity to meet her dragon's namesake. Rhaegar was like a mythological figure to her, a man who had songs written about him, who knew how to fight like the other great men of his time, but preferred the harp to the sword.
Her brother Viserys would curse her when she was young and grip her arms tightly, leaving bruises in the shape of his hands. He would tell her as though she were to blame, that she was born too late.
He believed that were she born sooner then Rhaegar Targaryen would not have married sickly Elia Martell of Dorne and perhaps he would not have run away with Lyanna Stark. They would have wed in the traditional Targaryen fashion, brother to sister to keep the bloodline pure.
That made her feel strange. At times when Viserys drank too much he would tell her that they would wed when he took back the seven kingdoms from the usurper. She would always pray that he would fail. That was before he sold her off to the Dothraki, so perhaps her prayers were answered.
Daenerys did not regret that life, but even in the beginning when Drogo saw her only as a broodmare to be mounted as he liked and he left her bruised and sore she believed she would not have preferred to marry her brother over her horselord husband. Viserys would have hurt her more. He had a violent temperament and besides that they had grown together. When she was still small and he a child they had played games and laughed as children did. It would have felt wrong to lay with him as his wife and fulfill her duties in producing an heir. The thought had always made her ill.
She rubbed the scales on Drogon's head. They were warm and hard as steel. He closed his eyes content to allow her to caress him or perhaps only tolerating her ministrations. His head was the size of a small carriage, large enough to swallow a man whole if he wished.
Knowing the sun would not wait, she pulled herself up Drogon's back using his horns and spikes as handholds. She wondered if this was how the dragonlords of Old Valyria mounted their dragons before the doom destroyed the empire in a single day. It did not look very regal or graceful, but she knew no other way. She'd imagine as Drogon grew larger it would be even harder to mount him.
"Sōvēs" She spoke the command and braced herself for the violent jolt she would feel when Drogon spread his wings and flew, but it never came. He rested under her immobile, much to her confusion.
She repeated the command, her one hand holding on to a spike and the other on the dragon's neck in an attempt to coax him. Drogon lay his head down on the grass sleepily and Daenerys looked down at him from her perch in shock. This had never happened before. Rhaegal too had not moved at her command.
Ahead of her she saw the bronze and green dragon lift his head and look towards the tree line curiously.
Is there something there?
A familiar figure emerged. Though in the darkness and snowfall she could not see his face, she would recognize his silhouette in an instant.
It was almost as if... Drogon and Rhaegal had waited for Jon Snow to appear. She did not understand. She knew that they were very intelligent; Tyrion had told her that they were as smart as man. It was a frightening and strange prospect. Then and now she knew not what to make of it.
The winds settled some, but the snow continued falling heavily. She slid down Drogon's side and waited to see what Jon Snow would do next. Would he be brave enough to walk past Rhaegal and Drogon to come to her? Drogon had let him come close before on Dragonstone, much to her surprise and bewilderment.
He stood there in front of Rhaegal, only a few feet apart. They examined each other closely, and she felt fear grip her heart like a vice. Jon took a step forward and extended a hand wearily towards the dragon's head.
No. Daenerys found she could not breathe or speak.
The dragon nostrils flared imperceptivity, watching him with intelligent, serpentine eyes. Jon only stared unable to look away. His position was so vulnerable that there would be no chance for him to think if the dragon decided it wished to kill him. Daenerys did not know what to do.
"I will not harm you." His hand shook as he finally placed it on the dragon's neck; the animal's breath was hot against the ground below, melting the ice. The way the dragon examined him was almost humanlike and served to unnerve the queen greatly. She was at a loss; not wanting to startle either of them, but worried for Jon's safety in the close proximity of a creature that could kill him as easily as she might crush a fly.
A moment passed tensely.
The dragon slowly averted its gaze and rested its gigantic head back on the snow, peaceful once again. The queen exhaled, confused, but relieved.
If she thought the danger had passed, then she was mistaken.
Jon did not know what possessed him to climb onto the dragon's back, but he did it instinctively and marveled at how familiar to mounting a horse it was. It was frightening, but something deep inside him told him this was right. Rhaegal's scales were strangely warm to the touch underneath him.
Daenerys stared at him with eyes wide and a hand covering her mouth. Neither spoke a word. The dragon had not even lifted his head.
Nothing made a sound and the world stilled. Jon could feel the blood thundering in his veins as he stared down at the ground below and at the queen's horror stricken face.
She stared at him in disbelief, but did not speak for fear the moment would be ruined. She turned back slowly and walked the few paces to Drogon in silence before turning back again and gazing at him. He could not read the expression on her face.
After a time Daenerys climbing back on Drogon and whispered something he could not make out and he had scarcely time to hold on tightly before the dragons sought the skies and flew.
Jon felt his heart racing in his chest as the beast flapped its wings and climbed into the heavens with him on its back holding on fearfully. Daenerys climbed higher and Rhaegal followed his brother Drogon from a distance.
He was only along for the ride as he did not know what to do now. He had never thought to ask the dragon queen how she controlled Drogon.
He felt he was still dreaming and considered in a moment of panic that if he fell perhaps he would awaken in his bed once more and start the day anew.
What did this mean? He wondered. Were not only the Targaryens able to ride dragons? Did this have anything to do with his death at the wall? Jon could not make sense of it.
He remembered the connection he had with Ghost, the wolf felt almost like an extension of himself. The wildlings had called him a warg, but he had never been able to see through another animal's eyes or ever felt another similar type of connection.
This felt almost like that, but still wholly different. He desperately wanted to speak to Daenerys, but she was too far ahead and it was too loud to hear.
So he waited, only holding on tightly as Rhaegal climbed after his brother, higher and higher. He buried his face against the dragon's neck to protect his eyes from the biting wind. He felt it burning his exposed skin.
Finally the dragon leveled, and the blizzard was seemingly behind them. He raised his head, his arms shaking minutely as he realized the blizzard was under them, not behind. They were flying above the clouds.
It was no wonder Aegon the conqueror and his sisters had been considered otherworldly by many; this was the view of the gods.
From here he could see the curvature of the world, the blue sea to the east and south, mountains and forest to the north, and the White Knife to the west.
Drogon glided leisurely towards the sunrise and Rhaegal followed him. Daenerys's hair shone like beaten silver as the wind blew it behind her in a loose curtain. Her long hair was one of his favorite characteristics. She did not often wear it loose as she did now.
Rhaegal picked up speed and caught up with his larger brother. He turned to look at the dragon queen across the distance between them and she stared back at him in wonder, astounded.
Together they glided and watched the sunrise over White Harbor and the sea. The water shone like glittering gems from the light. Under them the blizzard ended and the world below was revealed again. Daenerys flew down below the clouds as Jon followed.
They saw the port, the merchant's alleys, New Castle, and a sea of white with scattered trees dotting the land that comprised the north. From the city they had an unobstructed view of the river which flowed from the sea to past the horizon where it disappeared. It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.
When the sun had risen completely they descended, and Jon marveled at the strange feeling in his stomach as the altitude shifted dramatically.
Drogon landed first in the same clearing they had left from. Rhaegal followed and settled with a thump, nearly dislodging Jon from his seat.
He slid down the dragon's side as he had seen Daenerys do and looked back at the dragon queen breathlessly, his hands and limbs trembling.
She stepped towards him, her head tilted in the way it did when she was about to ask him a question he did not know the answer to.
"Who are you Jon Snow?" She stopped in front of him and ran her hand softly down the fur lining his cloak. Her proximity made him nervous.
"I-I don't know what possessed me. I can't explain it." He shook his head ashamed.
Daenerys examined Jon's face for a time and he let her without a word, he did not know what to say.
"What are you doing here?" Daenerys clasped his cheek with a gloved hand gently, staring up at him violet eyes open wide with wonder.
"I came looking for you. The cold did not let me sleep."
Her eyes twinkled. "You were right about northern winters Jon Snow and it seems we both cannot bear the cold when we sleep." He smiled at her and bid he not drown in the depth of her eyes.
She dropped her gaze and it lingered on his lips before she raised her eyes again. "You may have a drop of dragon blood in your lineage Jon Snow. I don't know quite how much is enough to ride a dragon. I know my children have taken a liking to Tyrion Lannister, he has gotten as close as you or I, but the dragons would have never let him mount them as Rhaegal let you. We surmised that somewhere in his family history one of his ancestors had married a Targaryen, but this does not fully explain you." Daenerys furrowed her brow.
"Where were you born Jon? What do you know of your father and mother?"
Jon sighed. "I was born somewhere in the south, in Dorne. I don't know exactly where. I don't know who my mother was. I only know Ned Stark is my father."
"The Martells of Dorne and my family often intermarried. Perhaps you are a long lost Prince of Dorne." Daenerys smiled mischievously, satisfied with this explanation for now.
"Perhaps." The corner of his mouth turned up.
The queen closed the distance between them, clenching the fabric of his cloak in her fists to pull him down for a breathy kiss.
They parted and again he was short of words. Her eyes softened as she gazed into his, searching in their depths for the answer to an unspoken question.
"Marry me Jon Snow." She whispered, staring at him intensely.
He exhaled.
She fingered a strand of silver hair and shook her head. "Fate has brought us together. There's more than coincidence here. Two dragons for two riders... the events that had to happen to lead us to this moment in time. It's all too difficult to comprehend. We have both survived death and beyond. Not just the fear of death, but death itself. When I walked into the pyre in that desert I felt myself die yet I did not burn, at the wall your sworn brothers killed you did they not?"
Jon's eyes widened. She placed a finger at his lips before he could speak. "Yes I know this and more Jon Snow. You are no ordinary man. Come and be with me as you proposed on the ship not long ago, but truly be with me. Stand by my side and share with me the weight of ruling. Let us defeat this Night King with an alliance strengthened through marriage." She clasped his hand, squeezing tightly as he found his voice again.
"You would share the iron throne with me, a bastard born outside of the great houses, a man who joined the Nights Watch because he had nothing else to aspire to?"
She shook her head, "You're not a bastard to me and I grow tired of the word, it does not define you. I bid you see yourself as we all see you, look now at the man and kill the bastard boy with no land, gold, or titles. I will make you the King of the Seven Kingdoms and no man would ever question your origins again or risk offending your queen." Her violet eyes twinkled and his heart leapt in his throat.
"If you'll have me Daenerys Targaryen, then I'd be a fool to refuse." He said as he caressed her pink cheek with his hand.
They kissed again, more urgently and more passionately than before and all Jon could think of was the overwhelming joy in his heart as he held her tightly to his chest, unwilling to let her go for fear of waking up from this dream.
They said their goodbyes to New Castle and Lord Manderly pulled Jon into a fatherly hug. He whispered something in his ear Daenerys could not make out and saw Jon nod acquiescently.
Young Myriame Manderly ran to hug her and thank her again for her gift the night before, promising to keep it always.
"You will always have a friend in me my lady, should you ever need something of me you need only write." The queen smiled at her fondly. She so wished she was able to have children.
With the plan to marry Jon in motion, the problem of finding an heir would become paramount. How long before the other lords would begin to suspect that something was amiss when she did not grow with child?
She tried not to think of it, there was much that had to occur before that became a pressing issue.
Manderly's other daughters curtsied to her politely and kissed her chastely on the cheek, blonde hair swirling in the winds of winter. For their departure Daenerys wore her silver hair braided in the Dothraki fashion. Her hair was growing long, when loose it hung to the small of her back. She hoped she would remain undefeated in battle so as to keep it at this length. This was one of the customs of Dothraki culture she embraced and cherished.
On this morning she met Lord Manderly's son, he was balding like his father and nearly as large. He had just returned to White Harbor after making the rounds of the other castles and houses in his father's domain. He stared wide eyed at Jon and the silver haired queen; his eyes grew wider still looking at Tyrion Lannister and the Dothraki in her party. The dragon queen hid her amused smile and bid him farewell.
Lastly she stood in front of the Great Lord of White Harbor. Lord Manderly kissed her on the back of her hand, pulling her close enough his large dark blue cloak blew into her legs. "I hope you will remember the kindness House Manderly and White Harbor granted your friend the King in the North. Aye and all that we have pledged to aide you in the Great War when it is finished and you consider returning to raze this city to its foundations." He patted her hand. "It was an honor to host the last living Targaryen; I will remember this meeting until my last dying breath. I wish you and yours good fortune in the trials to come." He grinned.
She nodded, lips twitching in an attempt to conceal her smile. I too am not like to forget you Lord Manderly. She thought.
After this they followed a procession of man at arms with the sigil of House Manderly on their shields. Daenerys admired the spotted great and white mare she rode; it reminded her of Drogo's wedding gift to her a lifetime ago. She patted the horse gently on the neck and rode behind the guards, she missed riding. It was both so similar and different to riding Drogon.
Tyrion rode beside her with Jon and Davos at the front. Her lord hand gave her a meaningful look, gesturing at Jon with his eyes and then back to her again, asking a question without speaking a word.
She nodded, pleased at his grin in response. If she made their King in the North the King of the Seven Kingdoms, his bannermen would surely support them. She hoped that unified they could convince other lords to join them in the coming battle at Winterfell against the army of the dead and then assuming they survived, march down and take King's Landing.
She wondered if she had dreamt the events of this morning or if they were true. Daenerys had never considered that she was not the only one living able to ride a dragon. The sight of Jon on Rhaegal's back as though he were born with the knowledge to do so had stunned her into silence.
Once they were aboard the barge on the river she would share the news with Tyrion and Missandei. Her lord hand especially was sure to find it fascinating.
On their walk back to New Castle after the sun had risen, Jon and she had not thought it wise to flaunt their betrothal in front of their host. That would be better left revealed at a more opportune time.
She tried not to feel too giddy with excitement, but since his acceptance her mood was considerably more cheerful than it had been in a long time. More so even than after the events in Jon's chamber the day prior.
She blushed as she remembered.
They rode along for a time in relative silence past the portcullis and out into the cobblestone streets. Soon they passed amongst the crowd who cheered them and threw winter blooms and colorful thin bolts of cloth into the air. She observed Jon's wistful look, clearly embarrassed and humbled even now.
He would make a wonderful King.
The townsfolk lined the sides of the street from the castle all the way down to the river docks. Even when they boarded they could still hear them cheering outside.
Tyrion, Missandei, Jon and the dragon queen settled into plush chairs surrounding a low table at the center. Windows with dark blue curtains lined the room, myrish carpets were piled on limestone floors and lysene lanterns adorned the walls. This was no ordinary river barge; House Manderly after all was one of the richest houses left Westeros.
A stone fireplace heated the room comfortably enough that Daenerys removed her cloak, relieved at how much lighter she felt. The others joined her, at ease now in private and away from any outsiders.
"Well Lord Manderly certainly spared no expense." Tyrion stated the obvious as he unclipped the cloak from his person and draped it over the arm of his chair.
"He does want Jon Snow to marry one of his daughters, Lord Tyrion. Perhaps he means to purchase the marriage." Missandei's eyes crinkled in amusement.
Daenerys and Jon shared a look for a moment, but her sharp eyed hand did not miss it.
"I believe some wine is in order?" Tyrion poured four cups from the flagon on the table. "We should celebrate!"
"Wine already Lord Tyrion? It's hardly midday." Daenerys fingered the fur fringe of her sleeve, face flushed.
"Celebrate what my lord? I am not much for wine." Missandei took the cup anyways, holding it awkwardly.
Tyrion clinked their glasses obnoxiously. "Haven't you heard, our queen is getting married to the King in the North!"
Missandei gasped, looking from her queen to Jon Snow who stared in mock interest into the depths of his cup.
"Your grace, was I the last to know? When did this happen?"
"In the early morning, I am sorry my friend." Daenerys placed her hand on Missandei's arm in apology, glancing minutely at Jon. "To tell it true, I had not intended such a sudden event. There is other news also, but do not despair Missandei, my lord of Lannister is not privy to everything."
The cup froze at Tyrion's lips and Daenerys reveled in his confusion a moment. "Today Rhaegal; the green and bronze dragon let Jon approach him." The queen took a sip of wine. "He climbed him as he has seen me do and we flew into the sky on dragonback."
Tyrion was not often shocked, but this was unforeseen even for him. "We do you mean you flew into the sky on dragonback? Who is we?"
"I rode Drogon and Jon Snow rode Rhaegal. I do not know how he was able, but he was." Daenerys stroked the end of her braid absentmindedly as she remembered. It sounded ridiculous to her ears even as she spoke it.
Who is he really? She thought. I've been so enamored by him, yet I do not know him.
"Impossible."
"I assure you this is what happened. My eyes did not deceive me, trust me my lord it is hard to mistake such a thing." Daenerys said.
Tyrion took a big gulp of wine. "Next you'll tell me Prince Rhaegar's come back from the dead. You are certain? Jon rode a dragon? By himself?"
She nodded, exhaling deeply.
Tyrion studied the northerner closely saying not a word. Missandei too sat speechless, debating whether to drink the wine in her glass or not. After a time he spoke. "I'll spare you my theories for now; I need to speak to the maester at Winterfell before I'm sure of anything. But I'll admit, this scenario has never occurred to me."
"Nor me Lord Tyrion." Jon added, running a hand through his dark hair and sighing.
Daenerys stood and paced about the room with her hands behind her back. "Tell me, how should we approach this marriage, the dragons, and the coming battle?"
"It is much to piece together. I do not believe it wise to show our hand so soon at Winterfell. Let us arrive and assess the situation. Mayhaps these northerners will be more keen to please you than the Lord of White Harbor your grace. We will tell them the King in the North has bent the knee and the Lord of White Harbor has pledged men and galleys to our cause, but mostly we will watch and listen. The north is unforgiving and treacherous especially in winter. Were I you I'd keep the union a secret." He thumbed his chin.
The queen tried not to show her disappointment. She had hoped to avoid slinking about the castle and stealing heated glances with her handsome king behind the backs of their friends and bannermen, but at least that would prove entertaining.
"As for the dragons, you will have to teach him to ride I am sure. If such a thing can be taught of course." Tyrion sighed. "I am quite jealous Jon Snow. King of the Seven Kingdoms and dragonrider in one day. Some men have all the luck." He shook his head wistfully.
Missandei spoke. "My queen, the Unsullied and Dothraki continue their way to Winterfell. The Stormcrows, Windblown, and Second Sons remain on Dragonstone as we have no ships to transport them. Perhaps after Lord Manderly ferries his men up the White Knife he might send ships down to retrieve our friends." She hesitated then before continuing.
"I have some troubling news from Kings Landing as well, sent from our good Varys the Spider on Dragonstone. Your victory on the Field of Fire was successful in destroying the majority of the Lannister's grain and food supply headed to the capital. However the entirety of Highgarden's treasury including gold and precious gems was secured inside Kings Landing before your arrival. Varys has said Cersei means to pay back the entirety of the great debt the Iron Throne has with the Iron Bank of Braavos, after which she means to take out another loan to purchase a contract with the Golden Company."
"The Golden Company?" Daenerys hand clenched the glass cup tightly. "The company of sellswords so good at killing they have never broken a contract?"
"The very same your grace." Her advisor stared down at her hands and finally took a sip from her cup. "They number more than ten thousand infantry, cavalry, and war elephants."
"War elephants?" Jon raised an eyebrow.
Tyrion nodded. "Yes they use them to transport cargo and to lay siege to a city. The animals are even strong enough to pull down city walls with enough numbers. My dear Missandei and how does my sweet sister propose to bring over an army of that size across the narrow sea? She has no ships."
Missandei wrung her hands. "She does my lord, Euron Greyjoy commands an impressive fleet and Cersei has already sent him to cross the sea with it in its entirety, so confident is she that she will succeed in securing the sellsword army."
"Jorah Mormont fought for the Golden Company in his youth did he not?" Daenerys tried to recall any other details she knew about the infamous army of mercenaries. Viserys loved to scare her with tales of the bloody victories won by them in her youth. He had told her they were the largest and most disciplined private army the Free Cities of Essos had to offer and carried a golden banner with no other adornments. Her brother dreamed of hiring them to help him take back the Iron Throne.
Once in Illyrio Mopatis' villa in Pentos he had even gathered the captains of the Golden Company and treated them to an elaborate feast; sponsored by their host of course. Viserys had hoped to convince them to sign a contract detailing payment after the war was won, but they only laughed at him. They did not risk life and limb for merely a piece of parchment.
"How much gold do we have?" The queen asked her lord hand.
He shook his head. "Not enough to hire them if that's what you're thinking."
Jon had listened carefully to all of this. "What if Lord Manderly gave us a loan to do so?"
Tyrion thought for a moment. "The man certainly has enough; White Harbor makes a killing through trade and taxes from every ship that enters its waters. However, he'd never lend us such an amount for free my northern friend. Any guess as to what he might request in return?" He asked rhetorically.
"To marry one of his daughters." Jon sighed.
Daenerys crossed her arms. "Where else might we procure enough gold?"
Tyrion steepled his fingers. "None of the options are good I'm afraid. Your Dothraki could pillage the countryside on the way to Winterfell gathering all the valuables they can find."
Daenerys narrowed her eyes. Absurd.
"You could send Jorah Mormont to treat with them; maybe they'll join our cause out of the kindness of their hearts?" He said sarcastically.
"More likely, we could offer something of value to Euron Greyjoy. Without his ships even with a contract the Golden Company cannot cross the narrow sea and join Cersei. Don't we have his nephew Theon Greyjoy; the only possible claimant to the seastone chair of the Iron Islands somewhere on Dragonstone? I recall his simpering face wandering about the halls not too long ago."
Jon's hand fisted, angry at the proposition. "We're not going to give him Theon Greyjoy. Don't you think the man has suffered enough?"
Tyrion shrugged. "No need to get upset, just laying out all of our options; as terrible as they may be."
"We may not have enough to hire the Golden Company, but perhaps we have enough gold to hire a faceless man of Braavos?" Missandei flushed as the others stared at her in surprise.
"Hiring an assassin my my who would have thought sweet Missandei of Naath capable of such a thought. Aren't the people of Naath known as the Peaceful People?" Tyrion tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair grinning.
"I was stolen from my village when I was a little girl; though it is my home I think the pacifistic nature of my countrymen is too optimistic in this world. Other men are so cruel and terrible and mine will not even defend themselves. Slaving raids are common on the island, how many children are ripped from their beds every full moon? Perhaps if we fought the slavers fewer would be taken. My travels and the world of man have taught me this. So I say to you, what is the death of one man compared to the death and suffering of thousands should the sellswords arrive at our shores?" She defended herself.
Daenerys placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Your words are true and it is a clever plan. However the faceless men are no ordinary assassins. They may well charge an exorbitant price in gold for the contract, or they may ask for another more bizarre form of payment. The more notable or important the victim, the more difficult the task to reach them, the more treacherous for their order, the higher the price they will ask. We shall see, for now I do think this the best course of action. I will think on who we might send to treat with them in Braavos. It must be someone we trust. Is there anything else we need discuss or may I speak with Jon Snow alone?"
"Aren't you forgetting something your grace?" Tyrion asked her smirking all the while. The queen raised an eyebrow in response.
"There's the small matter of planning your wedding. Yes we will keep your nuptials a secret at first, but we need not wait long. The dead won't wait and it would be best to have the ceremony sooner rather than later to accustom the lords and ladies of Westeros to the union. With your leave, it would be my honor to make all the arrangements provided the timing is correct."
Daenerys nodded, the corner of her lips upturned only just. "Very well Lord Tyrion." She looked to Jon who smiled faintly in her direction.
With that her advisors retreated from the room, leaving her alone with the King in the North as she wished.
She stood in front of him as he looked up at her from his seat curiously. "Much and more has happened since we met Jon Snow. What do you make of it?" Daenerys sat on the arm of his chair, their knees brushing against each other.
"I am glad for it has given me a chance to meet you." He smiled charmingly, his hand resting on her knee more familiar than she thought he would be. He was so frigid and timid at times, she likened it to his being a northerner or perhaps his time spent at the Wall with only other men for company. "I have something for you." He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a pale blue winter rose.
"Where did you get this?" She took it from his hand and raised it to her nose. It smelled cloyingly sweet.
"It landed in my lap on the ride from the castle to the barge." He grinned and her laughter filled the room. "It reminded me of you."
She slid into his lap then, a mischievous look in her eyes. His face flushed as her closeness. "Oh is that so?"
"It is resilient and beautiful even in the bitter cold of winter. Where the other flowers die or burn from the frost, these only thrive." The queen smiled genuinely as she fingered the velvety petals, she laid it gently on the table. She turned back to Jon and brushed her lips softly on his face and lips as his eyes closed contentedly.
"Do you mean to make it so that I fall in love with you Jon Snow?" She whispered softly, her fingers running through his hair as he exhaled in pleasure. "Our river voyage has just started and there are fewer eyes here than at New Castle. When might we be together again?" She murmured in his ear. Daenerys felt his hands clench at her waist. She so enjoyed teasing him.
Jon stared at her with heated eyes and exhaled as she placed gentle kisses along his neck. He smelled woodsy and fresh, a wild masculine scent that excited her greatly. She pulled at the clasps of his jerkin, but he stilled her hands.
"Wait, my queen." His eyes were soft. "I don't want another fumbling encounter with you where we're rushing half clothed and looking anxiously to the door for fear of interruption. I want to see you completely. I haven't gotten the chance to look at you."
She caressed his cheek and felt her heart flutter in her chest. It was hard to believe at times that this man who was so gentle and sweet was the same commander of the Night's Watch and the battle hardened man who had taken back Winterfell from the Boltons.
She stood then and slipped out of his hands, walking to the wooden door across the room and placing her hand on the brass handle.
"Where are you going?" He asked her perplexed.
The queen pushed the door slightly to ensure it was shut and latched it to lock it in place. "Nowhere." She said as she walked back to stand in front of him and pulled him to his feet.
Daenerys blushed slightly as she stepped back from him. "We will not be interrupted here, and should anyone suspect us of indecent behavior then their suspicions will only be confirmed when we wed." She took his hands in hers and placed them on her waist. "Or do you not want me Jon Snow?"
He laughed then. "That will never be the case my queen." And thumbed the silk of her dress over her hip. This dress was made from the same spool of fabric as the other, but had interesting cut outs at her sides and chest with black fur lining the edges of the bell sleeves. He traced the exposed skin near her waist and she breathed in sharply, looking up to meet his eyes.
"How am I supposed to get you out of this?" He mumbled in her ear as he searched for ties to unknot or pull. Her eyes twinkled.
"I think I'd like you to puzzle this one out first." She sighed. His hands warmed her through her clothes as he felt along her body freely. Sliding his hands to her hips and then her back and waist. He pressed her flush to his chest and she felt how much this excited him. His length already hard and large against her stomach. As he searched she felt him as well, slipping her hands up the back of his shirt and leather armor to feel his skin and the muscles of his back.
"What if I ripped this from you instead?" He asked only half in jest as he grew frustrated. He felt laces at her back, but not ends on which to pull and no other buttons or clasps to unhook.
"You wouldn't dare." Her hands froze and she looked up at him with wide eyes.
His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Then tell me or I can't answer for my actions. I'm not that patient Daenerys and I'm not terribly good at puzzles."
"Here." She took one of his hands and placed it inside her dress at the cutout. Just inside was one end of laces which he pulled, loosening the top of her dress enough that she held it up with one arm. "You've seen more of me than I have you your grace." Her violet eyes turned stormy. "Undress for me?"
"As my queen commands." He unclasped the belts of his leather armor and it fell to the floor with a thump. Then he pulled his white long sleeved linen shirt over his head as she watched entranced.
She let her dress fall to the floor then and she stood naked in front of him with only her braid covering one exposed breast. She heard his sharp intake of breath and reached for his breeches, pulling the laces and exposing him to her eyes. The queen kissed him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her breasts against his chest. She wished he would take her then, she was so excited.
His hands sought the soft skin of her arse and squeezed, pressing her tightly against his erection as they explored each other's mouths. She felt him trembling and knew that he desired her as much as she him.
"I don't think I've ever seen anything half as lovely as you Daenerys Stormborn." He whispered into her ear and then picked her up effortlessly, wrapping her legs around himself and carrying her over in front of the hearth. He laid her down there amongst the carpets and plush throw pillows and sat up to admire her as she looked up at him with half lidded eyes. "Your hair, I wish you wore it loose for me." He stroked the length of her braid and kissed her mouth and neck before looking down at her body again in admiration
She felt self-conscious as he took her in, but she made no attempt to cover herself. She did not know if the fire in the hearth or her skin was hotter.
She pulled him down to take her mouth again and wrapped one of her legs around his waist, pushing him against where she wanted him most and drawing sounds of pleasure from them both. Was it always going to be like this? If it was, then after they married they were never like to leave their bed chamber again.
"Is this slow enough Jon Snow? I am not as patient as you." Daenerys slipped her hand down and grasped him, thrilled at how hard he felt in her hand, she guided him to her opening and rubbed him against her wetness, drawing heavy breaths from her lover. Without answering her he held her hips still and then thrust deep inside her in one motion. She cried out, back arching as her silken sleeve squeezed his length.
"Do you know how many times in a day I think about you like this Daenerys?" He whispered into her ear, pulling back and thrusting into her slowly and then again shallowly until only the head of him remained. His breathed heavily as he composed himself, taking one of the queen's nipples into his hot, wet mouth. The queen could not speak she was so overwhelmed; she only closed her eyes and bucked her hips wantonly to bury him inside her as far as he would allow.
He entered her again, filling her and stretching her as she scratched the delicate fabric of the carpets at beside her head. She sighed and begged him with her eyes to continue. She felt him groan against her chest as she rocked her hips up, burying him deeper inside her.
"Oh I'm going to..." She began, her breath catching as his hands slid between them and rubbed against the bundle of nerves above her opening. The queen climaxed, moaning and beside herself as a scream of pleasure was torn from her lips. Jon covered her lips with his as he drove himself inside her over and over again, finally groaning and gasping for air, undone by the wet heat squeezing his length as he felt her orgasm around him.
Daenerys lay there under him, her eyes closed and her heart beating out of her chest. She could feel his heart beating as erratically as hers. After a time he found her lips and kissed her breathless again, wrapping his arms around her body as the sweat cooled from their skin.
They arrived at Winterfell late into the evening, but far sooner than they had anticipated. Lord Manderly spoke truthfully, the White Knife was fast moving indeed. Jon was eager to disembark and with good reason. He had shared with her a raven's scroll given to him by the aging maester of House Manderly the evening prior. It came from his sister Sansa Stark and he said it was the best news he had ever received via raven.
It was true; messages carried by ravens were often unpleasant. Dark wings dark words indeed. Daenerys was glad for her handsome king when he told her the news. Sansa wrote that Jon's brother Brandon Stark was alive as well as his other sister Arya. They all awaited him at Winterfell. Come soon, there's much to tell you. It said.
"It has been many years since there were so many Starks in Winterfell." Jon said as they rode side by side, passing through the first retaining wall that made up the defense of the castle. Ahead they reached the stables and two portly stableboys took the reins from their hands. The rest of their party followed close behind.
Here the snows were deep and piled high atop the ramparts. Daenerys glanced at her King in the North as he greeted the guards making their rounds of the courtyard. Snow had gathered in his hair and even in the dark with only the glow of the lanterns she could make out his kind eyes and fair face. She would never tire of looking upon him.
She hoped that his family would approve of their betrothal, but she could not help but worry.
They walked under the second portcullis and the queen observed him from a few paces behind as he froze in place, no doubt recognizing the figure holding a dimly lit lantern under an archway. He ran to her, uncaring of the other eyes watching or if it was unseemly for a king to do so. Daenerys heard a woman's laugh as the lantern fell into the snow and the two hugged fiercely.
Daenerys stopped at a distance to give them space, he had confessed to her on the barge that he had thought his sister dead. How thrilled he appeared as he recalled his sister fondly and regaled her with the adventures they would all have as children when their family was still unbroken and whole. The young woman ahead fit the description of Arya Stark closely. She had mousy brown hair and was short of stature with a round face and almond shaped eyes just as he had described. Interestingly she wore clothes more suited to a man, the queen noted.
Arya placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and pulled it from its sheath. "Look Jon, I still have it!" She said loud enough for them all to hear and Jon laughed saying something in response that made his sister cross her arms over her chest and smile from ear to ear.
The young woman gestured to them all standing and waiting and Jon had the courtesy to look abashed. Perhaps he had forgotten they were here. The queen held back a smile. It would have been nice for her to have grown up with a large family. Viserys and she were great friends when they were young and innocent, she still did not know what happened to change him so much.
Jon gestured for them to approach and made quick introductions. Arya stared at her longest of all, but the queen stared right back unintimidated.
"Everyone else is already in bed, and Sansa has been awake since dawn preparing for your arrival. We expected you around midday tomorrow after your reply from White Harbor. She's fast asleep in father's old room. She's moved all her things in there." Arya glanced at her brother.
"And Bran? How is he?" Jon did not much seem to care where his other sister was sleeping or where she kept her things, Daenerys observed.
His sister shrugged. "He's alright, but he's different from when we were children. You'll have to speak with him to understand. He's asked to speak to you as soon as you are able, but with it being so late shall I tell him you'll find him come morning?"
He nodded, taking a sideways look at his traveling companions. They were all exhausted to be sure, and she had not slept well since Dragonstone.
Servants came then to escort them to different areas of the castle and Arya bid them goodnight and retreated to her chamber. Jon, Missandei, Tyrion, and she were led to what was surely the guest wing. Daenerys found it curious that her handsome northerner did not occupy the rooms of the lord of the castle, but appreciated the proximity of his rooms to hers.
She sat in front of a trestle table on which stood an ornate looking glass, forcing her eyes to stay open for just a few moments longer.
"Tomorrow is a big day my queen. You always look lovely, but tomorrow you must look especially radiant." Missandei undid the complicated braid that rested heavily on her shoulder and combed it out with her fingers. "Are you happy about your marriage to our northern ally?" She picked up a horsehair brush and began to brush the queens silver hair working her way from her head down to the ends patiently.
"I am." Daenerys smiled softly. "He's different from any man I've ever known."
"I believe your grace makes him happy also." Her hand stilled for a moment in her hair as she thought. "He is very handsome."
"Yes he is." She blushed pink and they both laughed.
"Are you looking forward to seeing Grey Worm in the next couple weeks?" The queen grinned at the shy expression on her friends face as she nodded.
Her friend set the brush down, finished and divided the length of her hair so that it framed the queen's face and rested on her chest.
Missandei yawned and covered her mouth with a graceful hand. "It has been a long day; I'll awake you come morning to help you dress your grace, goodnight." She bowed slightly, exiting and shutting the door quietly behind her.
Daenerys massaged her scalp with the tips of her fingers, rubbing away the soreness left from the heavy braid she wore. She blew out the candles inside the lanterns scattered about the room and laid down bonelessly atop the furs of her bed. The flickering light of the fire began to lull her to sleep and heated the room comfortably.
As she began to drift into slumber she heard an impatient knock at her door. Drowsily she opened her eyes, confused.
Again she heard it.
Is it Jon Snow perhaps? She stood and walked towards the door somewhat wearily wearing only a sheer nightdress that she received long ago as a gift in Qarth from Xaro Xhoan Daxos; a rich merchant who had once asked for her hand in exchange for ships to cross the narrow sea.
Daenerys opened the door gingerly, startled to find not Jon Snow, but a face she had not seen since Meereen.
Daario Naharis leaned against the wall in the hallway leading to her room with the arrogant swagger he had always possessed. He stood there handsome and bearded, exactly as she had last seen him save for a travelling cloak at his shoulders and back.
"My queen, it has been long since I've seen your face." He drummed on the stone wall as he admired her state of undress.
Her face paled and suddenly all drowsiness left her. She felt very much awake. "I thought you were someone else." She hid her body behind the door stunned and tried to come up with words, but her mind failed her. Daenerys had never expected to see him again, let alone on this continent or in this castle.
"Who else might you receive at your door in the dead of night wearing such a thing? You've turned me into a jealous man." He caressed the lewd golden figure of the naked woman carved into the hilt of his dagger.
"How did you know where to find me and why are you here? I bid you stay in Essos and help protect Slaver's Bay from the masters that wished to enslave its people." She hissed, looking out into the darkness of the hallway.
What if someone sees him at my door at this hour?
She did not know what would be worse, if one of the Lords she had not yet met saw a strange man enter her chamber in the middle of the night and thought her a loose woman or if she closed the door in his face and did not hear him speak. Perhaps he had something of import to tell her. He had been her close friend and lover once upon a time; she felt she owed him this at least.
"Come in before anyone sees you." She crossed her arms over her chest protectively to hide her breasts from his gaze. Her nightdress was thin and even with the hearth ablaze the room was cold, hardening her nipples into stiff peaks and making her feel somewhat self-conscious.
He walked in leisurely as he looked around at her accommodations before settling his gaze on her person. "Everyone seems to be either going south to Kings Landing or north to this stronghold. You're a queen with the largest army in Westeros your grace and I was a captain of the Second Sons and Stormcrows and friend to your Dothraki and Unsullied. I've heard they too make for this city. It was not hard to assume their queen would arrive here as well."
"Heard from whom?" Her eyes narrowed as she saw him lay back on her bed and stretch, placing his arms crossed behind his head tranquilly and staring at her from the corner of his eye.
He ignored her question. "I could not stay away from you forever Daenerys, you cannot send me away and hope to forget me nor I you. After being with a queen, all other women pale in comparison. What point is there in other conquests when I've already conquered the most beautiful woman in the known world? Don't worry about Slaver's Bay, my men still hold it and keep the masters on the defensive even now. I would not betray you in this way."
Daenerys clenched her hands into fists, angry and impatient. She tried to let her judgment overcome her anger, but the indignation overwhelmed her and she snapped. "What do you want of me Daario Naharis? It is late and I am weary from travel."
He looked at her with a wicked gleam in his eye, unbothered by her tone. "I want you of course Daenerys Targaryen."
"If that is why you are here then you mistake me sir. You cannot have me, leave this city at once and forget I existed." She glared. "Take your sellswords from Dragonstone and go if you wish. I will charter you ships to take you to retrieve the men there and a bag of gold for your journey to the free cities sufficient to buy you a villa of your choosing. Fill it with as many whores as may please you, but leave and do not come back." She commanded, outraged at the man she once considered her trusted confidante and friend, her ire growing.
He shook his head. "I've not come all this way for nothing my queen. Come, join me and I'll warm you on this night. Have you forgotten all of our passionate nights in the great pyramid of Meereen? I remember them all very fondly."
"Get out. Now." She demanded, furious and flustered. She felt such an overwhelming sense of anger and fury that it surprised her in part. The feeling was so intense she found it hard to breathe.
He did not budge from her bed. "I'll admit when you first sent me away as you would kick a dog to the streets I was heartbroken, but now I've only grown bitter. Bitter and resentful. Is it true that you travel now with Sir Jorah Mormont? You sent him away, yet he returned to your service. Why have you forgotten me then?"
"I do not care what you feel or think and do not have to explain my actions to you. If you do not get out now I will scream for my guards and have you hanged come morning as a common thief in the night." Her anger turned into frustration. He was giving her a headache. Or perhaps she was so fatigued it had begun to manifest into these symptoms. She certainly felt overly irritable.
He laughed at her impetuously. "You only grow more radiant the angrier you become sweet queen. Your Dothraki guard remember me well from our nightly rituals across the narrow sea. They have already been sent away as I used to do then."
She gasped in disbelief. Were her guard truly so foolish? "If you think I will not scream and wake this entire castle then you do not know me. I am a queen, not a common whore for you to bed as you please. How dare you come here and disrespect me so?"
"I mean no discourtesy Daenerys, I ask only for a place at your court again and one night in your bed. You will not regret it, if you are not pleased with me then I will only serve as one of your guards and captains as I once did. I desire only to be near you."
"Daario I cannot do this. Do you not understand rejection? I am betrothed to the King in the North and I do not want you. It is truly best that you leave. I cared for you once, it is for that reason I will allow you to walk away even now." She did not recognize this man anymore. He had changed.
"But you are not married yet. Will you make me beg sweet queen?" He stood and unclipped the dagger at his hips, dropping it carelessly on the floor followed by his traveling cloak and a leather riding vest. His hands pulled at the ties of his tunic, loosening it.
Her heart stopped. "Are you truly so foolish as to do this? Do you wish for death? I will not betray my husband to be. I do not want you. Take your things and go and I promise I will forget this. Take my offer, buy yourself a villa in Lys or Tyrosh and forget me." It was now that she realized he was not like to be convinced.
She searched the room for anything she might use to defend herself if need be, but saw only an iron candlestick holder behind the tall, dark haired man. Sir Jorah had given her a small knife once as a gift, but it lay useless at the bottom of her chest. She clenched her fists.
"Very well I suppose it comes to this then. I've not come all this way without getting what I've come here for. Give me my one night and a place by your side or I will tell your betrothed and all of his household and bannermen that Daenerys Targaryen is as barren as the red waste of Essos and cannot produce an heir. I will spread the tale to anyone who will hear it." He sneered.
"I've known you intimately many times and you have told me in confidence this fact. I know it to be true. But should anyone question the veracity of my statements I will explain in detail every characteristic of your nude body to anyone who will listen." He derided her. "I'll tell them of the dusky rose of your nipples, the beauty mark of your inner thigh, the faded scar on your lower stomach from where your brother threatened you with a dagger and cut into your pretty skin. I remember it all your grace, do not doubt it."
He pulled his tunic up and over his head and walked shirtless to a flagon of wine on a desk across her room, pouring himself and her a drink. She stood immobile, frozen and momentarily without words as she observed him.
"And if I run from this room and have you beheaded this very night?" She spoke stoically.
"You cannot." He tilted his glass in her direction. "Should I find my head missing from my body then the Second Sons and Stormcrows will leave you and join Cersei Lannister against you. I hear she has quite a bit of gold to offer for sellswords to join her campaign. In addition men loyal to me await in this castle. I did not travel to Westeros alone. It would not be difficult for them to steal your sweet Naathi advisor from her bed in the night along with the imp that councils you. Mayhaps they might take one of the king's sisters as well to ensure no harm befalls them as they escape to Dragonstone." He shrugged. "I've had many lonely nights to think and consider the possibilities."
"You would force yourself on me? You disgust me. I would have had you torn limb from limb and burned your bones to ash had I known you would betray me."
He smiled wickedly. "I assure you, there will be no need to force you my queen. Go and lay back. Close your eyes and imagine your king if you wish. You will enjoy me as you have all of the times before. I never heard complaints fall from your lips in all of the times we were together."
Daenerys heart thudded in her chest, she began to feel panic rising steadily as she considered what she could do. She found it hard to think, there was something strange she felt in this moment. Her mood swung wildly as she weighed her options.
She could seduce him and then cut his throat with his dagger when his guard was down or bludgeon him to death with the candlestick holder, the dragon queen was not afraid to give the gift of death to such a man.
But if his words were true?
She did not care so much for the threat against her reputation, but the Second Sons numbered at least two thousand and the Stormcrows five hundred. Would they truly abandon her for her enemy and take up arms against her? Most pressingly, were there really men in Jon's own castle who could so easily reach her advisors and friends? Apart from her personal guard, there were all manner of men-at-arms from across the north and the vale patrolling Winterfell. It did not seem likely, yet if he stood here in her private quarters then why could others not do the same?
Would it truly be so easy? She was afraid to find out. She wished she could ask for Jon's advice or Tyrion's. Tyrion would know what to do. Her head felt like it was about to burst. She rubbed at her temples, feeling a plethora of emotions all at once.
She needed him gone. She needed to think. She needed to rest.
"Daario... it appears you have left me no choice, but to do as you ask." She raised her eyes to make contact with his. He looked smug and overly pleased with himself. He downed the glass of wine in one go and approached her to hand her the one he had poured for her.
Her anger and frustration had bled into weariness and anxiety.
"Do not look so displeased dear queen." He stood, moving closer to her than she felt comfortable with and caressing her hip. Her hands clenched reflexively and she felt her nails digging into the palm of her hand. Where before his touches excited her now she only felt repulsed and ill.
She let him believe he had won for now. The queen felt she could not breathe, so nauseous and ill did she feel. Even the flickering candlelight hurt her eyes. But this sickness was not a result of his threats, this was something else.
"Here drink. This will ease you." He mistook her illness for apprehension.
She took the offered glass and stared inside at its contents, exhaling. "I will give you your one night Daario Naharis. I will make you a lord, sit you on my small council, and grant you a holdfast." She looked up at him, hiding her discomfort. "But I have journeyed all day and the hour is late. I was already dreaming when your knock came at my door. Come tomorrow night. You will have what you wish. It will be a night you will never forget." She dropped her arms by her sides, uncaring now if he saw her or not.
She visibly tensed as he stroked one breast softly and thumbed a budding nipple through the fabric. The room spun and she felt sickened, but allowed him this to sell her deception.
"Very well." He murmured. "The anticipation will make it all the sweeter."
I will see you die Daario Naharis, and that will be sweet indeed. She turned her face from him.
His hands explored her body at his leisure and she resisted the urge to slap him hard across the face. Had she not felt so unwell and maintained the rage she felt only moments ago, she was certain to be unable to resist doing so.
She wished for a moment her dragons were still small enough to share a room with her so they would set him aflame and protect her from this vile man she once thought a friend. She felt a wave of depression suddenly as she realized that she could no longer recognize him. She had never expected this betrayal. The extent of emotion that shook her was so strong it made her head throb. She felt strange.
"I'll go sweetling, I know you are tired, but you must give me a kiss to tie me over until tomorrow. Make me believe it." Before she could protest he had pulled her to him tightly, trapping her hands against his bare chest. The glass cup fell from her hand, but did not shatter. It rolled along the carpets, staining them red with wine. She froze and struggled for a moment before reminding herself that she still held some semblance of control here and she just wished him gone.
He tasted of tobacco and rum, and she was surprised to feel tears prick at her eyes, but bid they not fall. She trembled partly in disgust as she forced herself to respond timidly and partly from the strange affliction she felt.
He ground his length against her stomach and she pushed him back as though burned, but he only grinned at her. It was then she felt fear. An intense overwhelming fear that set her heart racing strangely.
What if he doesn't leave? And what is happening to me?
He groped her once more, pressing himself against her and inhaling deeply at the crook of her neck. He pinched her buttocks enough to hurt her as she stood immobile, sure she would faint if she moved. She watched him shakily as he stepped back to pick up her fallen glass. He poured himself another cup and threw it back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Daario picked up his clothes then and did not bother dressing, sauntering his way to her door as she stood fixed in place. He was not ashamed of his state of undress.
"See you in the morning Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Seven of the Kingdoms." He smiled at her charmingly and shut the door, innocent to her feelings and illness.
She felt such a sense of relief at his departure that her tears fell then unbidden. She slid down the door, doubled over in pain as she felt a cramping low in her belly, her head aching and chills running down her spine. She felt violated, but she had lived through worse than this. This is not why she cried now, truthfully she did not understand her tears or why they flowed so freely down her face.
When she was first sold to the Dothraki it was much worse, and before then she had also survived her brother Viserys. He had drank heavily of their host's wine and had almost taken her against her will one night in Pentos. When he drank it always raised his blood for killing or his lust for one of his whores. Were it not for Illyrio's guards he would have taken what he wanted from her without care.
But even then she did not cry as she did now.
After her tears had dried and she breathed normally again she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them there on the cold stone floor. What manner of sickness was this? She stared at the flames inside the fireplace as they danced and soothed her shaken nerves. Daario would die for his foolishness, that she knew. But there was something strange inside her now. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach. She was felt hysterical, overly emotional, and unusual and she knew not why. After a time when the room finally stilled she rose and dove under the fur covers of her bed, curled upon her side and facing the door. She did not sleep the rest of the night.