Daenerys remembered little about their flight away from the Wall. 'South, south!' was the only coherent thought she could muster; a hollow chant, a desperate plea. They had to flee the horror of what they'd seen and what that would mean to the realm, and she had to flee from 'him'; from his cold, blue eyes and the scream of his icy breath.
She just wished she could flee from her own mind as easily.
There was no time to dwell on that nightmare but it would do no good to hide from it either. Dany was still not convinced she'd dealt with Viserion's death as it was, never mind all the other traumas she had experienced over the years. Was this how it had started for her father? One upset after another pushed to the side, buried behind masks and slowly eating away at him until he turned mad? Was that to be her fate now?
Jon had done the same thing this morning and she had seen it happen right in front of her. One moment he was pale and shaking - his eyes full of shock and confusion - and then, a couple of heartbeats later, a mask had dropped and he had turned determined eyes towards the two dozing dragons, his stress apparently forgotten. They both had so much they would need to address later but how long before the next disaster turned up to distract them? How many more traumas would they have to force into the depths of their minds to 'deal with later'?
But right now that was exactly what they had to do if they were going to do their duty to their people. She and Drogon had emerged from the cloud to find themselves over the Shivering Sea and, whilst heading back to land, had spotted a fishing boat bobbing its way south, heavy with a fresh catch of fish. There were people eking out a living up here with no idea of the danger which was about to descend on them and so Daenerys dropped a bit lower, taking note of the land below, and trying to discover where the fishing village might be. She and Jon could not return south quite yet, she realised then, not when so many things needing to be done here first.
She couldn't even recall consciously thinking about using the small wood as a barrier, nor giving Drogon the order to set fire to the trees, and yet he seemed to read her intent before she'd fully made sense of it herself. The next moment Jon was there, swooping in on Rhaegal with a confidence which took her breath away, and then they were moving south, travelling as one, towards a large forest and the smallholding which lay next to it.
~o~0~o~
She and Jon had tried to convince the people living near the forest of the need to evacuate but they seemed so shocked about having two dragon riders land in their midst that it was obvious that they would get no immediate commitment from them. In the end they could only warn the group that their lord would require them to move out soon, before climbing back up and flying a little closer to Last Hearth.
Jon had originally been against the idea of arriving at the northern castles on dragon back but, honestly, what choice did they have right now? There was no time for long walks between holds, which meant that they had to land fairly close, and there was absolutely no chance that the arrival of two large dragons outside the castle walls would go unnoticed.
"At least we can use this as a test for Winterfell," Jon said, as the two of them headed on foot towards the gatehouse. "Because I doubt we'll be able to make our planned, subtle entrance there now either."
"Although bringing my large army right up to the gates might not be considered especially subtle?" she suggested.
"True, but at least we still do have my standing in the north in our favour." He winced. "If you'll allow me a little flexibility in regards to my title?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, but the guards had already stepped forwards so he had no time to explain.
"The King in the North and Queen Daenerys Targaryen seek an audience with Lord Umber on a matter of the utmost urgency," Jon said, the authority in his voice clear for all to hear.
After all his declarations of fealty, most of them exceptionally badly timed, his use of that title at this time surprised her but, in this case, it appeared he had made the right decision, the two guards bowing so deeply and so quickly that they almost fell over.
~o~0~o~
Lord Ned Umber was only a boy but he managed to show an authority beyond his years, even if his eyes did betray this youth a little when faced with two such high-ranking and unexpected guests. He was sitting at the high table in his Great Hall flanked by numerous advisors with the room full of curious knights, lords, ladies and servants.
"They say you arrived on a dragon, Your Grace," Ned said to Jon. "It appears a lot has happened since I took leave of you at Winterfell."
"That it has," he replied and then sighed. "Lord Umber I apologise for our hasty visit and lack of courtesy here but the queen and I have flown from the north with grave news and we have very little time. The Wall has fallen at Eastwatch and the Army of the Dead are marching this way as we speak." There were gasps from all around. "I'm afraid there is no choice but for all of you to leave here and head south for Winterfell immediately."
"Leave?" one elderly man asked. "Impossible."
"This is an order and not a request," Jon replied with an authority which would have turned Dany on at any other time. "Any who remain here will die and be added to our enemy's numbers and I cannot allow that to happen."
"You question our valour?" another person asked.
"No, I ask for that valour at Winterfell where it will be of some use. There we will have dragonglass weapons which can destroy our enemy along with a handful of Valyrian blades. Last Hearth and all its smallholdings must be evacuated and, once emptied, the queen and I will then set fires to slow the wights' march and buy us precious time."
Was it wrong for her to feel a shiver of excitement on hearing Jon talk about 'the queen and I' in that way? Would the people here get the wrong impression from his words? Or the right one?
It took considerably longer than they would have liked to make their point, although that first session did end with reassurances that an evacuation would begin the following morning, even if there were many lords who still felt it was their duty to stay and attempt to defend their home. Lord Umber offered his guests supper and a bed and the pair accepted, even though they had no intention of sleeping the whole night away. Neither did they have any intention of using both of the rooms they had been assigned. Daenerys knew her stoic façade was fading fast and that any remaining strength she had was about to leave her and so, as they were shown the larger 'king's room', Dany strolled in right behind Jon, explaining that she and the King in the North had things to discuss and that they would take refreshments here together.
"Daenerys?" Jon's voice sounded distant and the room had started to blur through a haze of tears. "Dany!" The next thing she knew she was in his arms, sobbing bitterly against his chest and, from the way he was trembling, it was obvious that he was now crying too.
~o~0~o~
"I think I probably needed that," Jon said, his voice hoarse as he moved to the basin to wash his face. "Been years since I let go like that."
"Yes," Dany replied. "In our position we always have to work hard to not show weakness but … it does us no good to bottle it up in the long run."
She couldn't even be bothered to wash, simply staggering over to the large bed and flopping down onto it with a groan. Jon brought over the tray of food which had been left and dropped it next to her, sitting on the other side of the bed and taking an enormous bite out of a hunk of bread.
"Gods, I'm starved."
She watched him rip into it, amused. "Half wolf, half dragon and you eat just like them," she mumbled, simply nibbling at her own piece of bread. "I think I'm hungry too but I'm just to weary to eat."
"Rest then. Although we're going to need to head back out soon."
"I know, but not before we can get some further reassurances from that little lord of yours. I really don't fancy trying to drop captured wights on every single village and castle in order to convince people of the danger they're in."
He chuckled. "No, and we'll need to do quite a bit more scouting and convincing now, I think."
"And yet, we'll need to return to our army fairly soon."
He stopped mid bite, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, our army now, is it?"
She shook her head, trying to fight a smile. "Perhaps it's just the exhaustion talking."
Jon took a large bite out of a chicken leg. "You want to talk about … what we saw up there?"
"No!" she replied before wincing. "Sorry but … later and we need to talk about … your news at some point too." She sighed. " Finish your food, Jon and then just come and hold me. I'm not going to be able to sleep I don't think, not after the day we've had but-"
A firm knock on the door interrupted her and Jon reluctantly made his way over, groaning as his muscles protested the day's unfamiliar activity. Dany thought perhaps she should get up and look a little less like Jon's whore, sprawled out on his bed like this, but she felt heartbroken and dizzy and didn't think she could muster up the energy anyway. He raised an eyebrow at her before he opened the door, but otherwise made no complaint.
"Sorry, your Grace but ..." The Maester saw Daenerys and his eyes widened. "Lord Umber wishes to send ravens and asked me to check with you about their direction and content?" He turned a further suspicious look towards Dany.
"The queen and I have matters to discuss," Jon said sternly, "and are both tired from our ride from the Wall." He fixed the man with a long stare. "If you feel it's of any great concern of yours?"
The Maester paled. "My apologies, your Graces. Ah, perhaps … is there any … remedy I can offer either of you?"
"We've much to do and very little time to rest," Jon answered. "So a tonic of some sort to keep us going would certainly be welcome."
"I understand," the man said with a bow, "I will fetch that for you after these messages are sorted, although I'm sure I don't need to tell you that such brews are to be taken sparingly."
Daenerys managed to muster the energy to pull herself up into sitting position whilst Jon and the Maester sat at the desk, knowing it was important for her to pay attention and contribute to their discussion. However, every time she thought about some addition or other, Jon had already mentioned it and she soon started to relax, lulled by both men's deep, memorising northern accents. She remembered nothing more until opening her eyes some time later to find Jon lying down on the bed next to her, his dark eyes regarding her whilst numerous subtle emotions raced across his features. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek and noticed him wince very slightly at her touch.
"Has Sam's news changed how you feel about me?" she asked quietly. "About us?"
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "No." He paused, considering. "Words can't change my heart, even though it probably does need discussing."
She nodded. "Being aunt and nephew means little to Targaryens, but then you're more wolf than dragon so I did wonder if it would upset you."
He shrugged. "If we'd ended up brother and sister it might have been more difficult for me but actually 'this' is the least confusing aspect of the news."
"You're more upset about Eddard, I expect?" He nodded. "And confused about being Aegon Targaryen?"
"Confused?" He laughed. "Understatement."
"And having a greater claim to the throne?"
He glared at her. "You know me better than that."
"Or being the only Targaryen left to continue the line."
"Now you're being ridiculous."
"Am I?"
"Yes. Will you please stop trying to get rid of me! How much Dragon would there be left in any future children I might have with another woman anyway?"
"So this really is the end of our House?"
"Perhaps. Or perhaps we will both live to see our hundredth year and make some difference to this world before we die? Perhaps that can be the lasting legacy of House Targaryen?"
She smiled. "That's a nice thought, although surviving the next year is going to be challenging enough."
"Aye, but I think we can afford to stay here for an hour or two. Just you and me, keeping the rest of the world out there for a little longer."
"A little longer … yes," she replied numbly, moving closer to Jon and noticing that her almost constant hunger for his body was strangely absent, perhaps proving she really wasn't herself.
"I'm not sure if we'll be able to sleep or if you want to talk some more but ..." He sighed, pulling her close.
"Warm ..." That wasn't quite what she had meant to say but it seemed to be the only word she could find at that moment.
He chuckled. "After all we've been through today, perhaps that's enough."
She drifted in and out of a half-sleep, comforted by Jon's warmth and yanked awake by the memory of what came with the cold. And she wasn't the only one. Jon also tossed and turned, his eyes snapping open a few times as he mumbled something about an old, reoccurring nightmare. Eventually talking became a necessity, just to keep their sleeping horrors at bay.
"You did well today … with Rhaegal," she said.
He grunted. "I think you were laughing at me."
"No … well, not really. Your expressions and reactions amused me a little but, considering everything … you did well."
"I think he understood me?" Jon said, "But I'm not sure if that was my words or my thoughts?"
"I don't fully understand the nature of that communication either," she replied. "We are the first dragon riders in hundreds of years. Who else is there left to ask?"
"I'm sure there's something written down somewhere." He chuckled. "Sam would love to help out with that, I'm certain." There was another long pause.
"I'm not trying to get rid of you," she belatedly replied to his earlier question. He jumped a little and she wasn't sure if it was because he had fallen asleep or in relief at her words. "I don't want anything to come between us now."
"There are a lot of things which could."
"Yes."
He sighed. "Honestly, it's one thing after another, isn't it? One reason after another, but my answer will never change. You are my queen now and forever and I couldn't stay away from you, even if I wanted to."
She wriggled even closer, giving a contented sigh. "I couldn't understand our bond before, but now it makes perfect sense. Targaryens have always had a unique connection. Something in our very blood which calls out to magic and dragons and … one another."
"A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing." His voice was quiet and thoughtful.
"Hmm?"
"I knew your … great uncle, I think? Maester Aemon at the Night's Watch. That was something I overheard him say one day but, for all his wisdom, I doubt he knew what I was. In some ways I wish I had known back then so I could have told him, and I wish he'd lived long enough to meet you." She swallowed back unexpected tears but Jon still managed to sense it. "I'm sorry, love, it's hard to discuss anything today without it upsetting one or other of us."
"It doesn't matter," she said. "We both needed to let go, as we said before." And she allowed herself to cry a little more, savouring Jon's warmth as his soothing voice whispered gentle reassurances. One of her hands found its way under his shirt, tracing gentle patterns on his stomach, suddenly, urgently needing to feel his skin against hers.
"Is this really the time?" he asked, amused, as she started to wriggle her fingers under the waist band of trousers and her lips nuzzled at his neck.
"I just need you close."
He sighed, his own hand stroking a breast through her dress. "I know."
For once there was no desperate passion, no urgent need for relief, just soft touches and light kisses of lips and cheeks. The two of them made no attempt to undress fully, their caresses lasting for ages between bouts of dosing and soft words, until they had rearranged their clothes just enough to allow Jon to slide inside of her. Once there he stilled - neither of them moving for some time - and Dany revelled in their closeness, enjoying the feel of him inside her with no chance of him growing softer. They both savoured the sweetness of their slowly mounting desire, dragging out their climax into one long sigh, before holding each other gently in a close, desperate embrace.
She managed to fall asleep almost immediately and, this time, she had no nightmares of cold, blue eyes, only of Jon and his warm brown ones, burying deep into her soul.
~o~0~o~
A/N: I hope you're all still enjoying this little AU. As I've said before, I'm not honestly expecting S8 to go this way, although I do have a number of predictions for the show which I may revisit in another fanfic at some point. Looks like we've plenty of time to kill until the next season starts! :P
Feel free to ask questions and speculate and I'll do my best to respond, although I do like to keep my secrets so my 'answers' may be a little vague. Also please remember that, as much as I appreciate all reviews, I won't be able to directly to questions asked by guests.