CHAPTER 7: The Morning After

Dawn came and she awoke wrapped in his arms, her back to him. Even with all they'd done to one another, after having him inside her and crying out his name in pleasure, she still tensed the moment she realized their position.

Somehow that seemed to be what woke him, his even breathing halting for a moment. She was frozen, shivering under the furs, yet when he moved to take his arm from her, she put her hand on his forearm to keep it around her.

He groaned lightly, questioningly. She meant to snuggle against him, tell him she wanted to stay close to him, but then she felt it. His cock, hard as it had been the night before, pressed against her rear. She realized then how it must have seemed, as she felt his left hand press to her stomach while her right cupped her breast.

She kept quiet until his hand slipped between her legs and he slipped his fingers into her, a moan pulling her lip from her teeth. "Jon," she whispered, pressing herself against him.

When he leaned forward to press a kiss to her shoulder, she flinched, and he stopped moving his fingers. "Should I stop? Do you want to change?"

Her left hand clutched his right forearm, fingers digging into him as she bit her lip and shook her head. "No." She wanted to do this. Needed to kill her fear of it. He deserved it, deserved to not have a wife haunted by another man every time he took her to bed. She would overcome this.

He hesitated, clearly wanting her to be sure. Rather than let him ask, her right hand found his left between her legs, pushing his fingers deeper into her. She thought he meant to torture her by leaving them there, but in time they curved and he rubbed the spot he had the night before, making her push against him.

Her eyes snap open when he presses a kiss to her back, likely a sea of scares, flooding her with doubt. As if to challenge that, she reached down, pulling his hand until his fingers left her and reaching behind her for his cock. She tried to angle herself, but had to release him and reach between her legs instead, pressing him to her wet lips once again.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, lips brushing against her shoulder.

Looking over it she caught his eyes for the first time that morning and nodded. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and pressed into her. He wanted to be careful, knowing from her reluctance that he should go slow. And yet it wasn't long before she was bucking against him, her head turned and her hand on his cheek, bringing his face to hers to kiss him. His right hand had taken to rolling her nipple between his fingers while his left lay between her legs, rubbing the pearl of her cunt, making her push against him harder.

Maybe it was just not being bent over the bed, maybe it was trust built from the night before, but it hadn't taken much for Ramsey's ghost to fade that morning. Every time it seemed to near, Jon would bite her shoulder, press his teeth to her neck and lick away the pain. Just as she thought of Ramsey he did what he never would. His bites were anchors.

It didn't take much more for her to moan his name, her hand reaching back to slide into his curls before throwing her head back and crying out in ecstasy.

He took that as a signal and his thrust gained impact, driving the seed he released further, spilling deep in her again and again. She turned over and rode him after that, making him spill again before she finally rolled to his side.

Taking a few minutes to lay in silence, they broke apart and rose for the day, using a basin and rag to wash themselves of the sweat and everything else. Jon was the first to dress, but stayed to help Sansa with her gown.

"Should I help with your hair?" he asked as she turned to him.

"Another day, perhaps," she said pressing a hand to his chest. "I can handle it for now. You best be back to the room, change if you can and go break fast." She put a hand to shoulder, guiding him toward the door. "Hurry off before the maids catch you."

At the door he turned to her with a teasing smirk. "I doubt half of Winterfell doesn't know. Probably Winter Town as well."

"Shush," she said swatting his forearm lightly.

Part of her found it amusing how he still seemed hesitant to place a hand on her hip and lean forward to kiss her cheek after he'd unlatched the door. "I'll see you soon."

"Mm," she nodded, holding the door open and watching him walk through the corridor, smiling to herself, one hand on the door and the other across her stomach, a fulfilling ache echoing into it from between her legs.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She took some time to brush and braid part of her hair, a pair of braids meeting at the back, not unlike a crown. Her heart melted a little when she went to break fast in the great hall and saw color in Jon's cheeks before he quickly finished his meal and excused himself. She only smiled as he made his way to the training yard, and yet she felt more than a few eyes on her. It was hard to say whether she was imagining them or not.

Half her meal was gone when Arya practically tossed her plate beside her and slipped into the seat, looking Sansa over curiously. "Are you okay?"

Sansa looked at her sister, clearly checking her, and felt a twist of anger that she would ever doubt Jon. Then she realized that was just about impossible, and she likely was concerned that it had sent Sansa into a panic or something.

"He beat me," she said mournfully, hiding her smile. "Made me cry and yell."

Arya's eyes darkened, guilt painting the anger. "What?"

Sansa rolled her eyes. "I'm joking," she said shaking her head, smirking as she added Arya's favorite, "Stupid."

"Oh." Arya let out a relieved sigh, seeming to deflate.

"He was…" She smiled, deciding Arya likely didn't want to hear details. "It was perfect, Arya. He was everything we thought he'd be and better."

Arya nodded. "So you went through with it? It wasn't too much?"

Sansa shook her head. "No, he was gentle. He made sure I was alright. Kept me from… drifting."

"I'm glad," Arya nodded, turning to her plate. Glancing at Sansa she smiled. "You seem happy."

"I am," she declared. "I am."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Jon had finished in the yards and started back toward his room where he found Daenerys stood beside his door. The smile that had claimed his lips most of the morning faded as he steeled himself and approached.

Hearing him she stood straight, taking on a regal stance. "Jon."

"Daenerys," he said softly. No need to be harsh, this would be hard enough on them.

"Is it true?" She asked firmly.

He might have asked what she meant, but he knew better. Her glancing towards Sansa's room also made it clear. "It is."

Fury flashed across her face, quickly falling to anguish and pain. "How could you?"

"I did what I had to to keep her safe. To keep all of them safe."

"Jon, I-" She stopped herself, meeting his gaze before shaking his head. "Couldn't we have talked?"

Jon frowned, shaking his head. "I don't know. With everything it just… it felt like the best option I had. It was this or risk something worse. Whatever they may think, if any of your lords think to try anything, they'll be harming the King's kin twice over. They'll be hunted to the end of their days and damned long after we've all died."

Daenerys' jaw shifted before she sighed and stepped to him, reaching up to brush her hand against his jaw. "I wish things could have been different."

Jon nodded. "So do I. I'm sorry for any pain this causes you, I truly am. You're an amazing person Daenerys. You deserve happiness."

She smiled, knowing at least he spoke honestly. "I know." Her hand sank to her side and her throat bobbed, giving him a quick nod before she walked past him, disappearing down the hall.

He felt awful as he changed, wiping himself off and dipping his hair before brushing it and tying it back. His eyes were boring into his, every unspoken insult as slash at his throat, a hole in his lungs.

And yet that faded when he opened his door to find Sansa leaning against the wall opposite his door.

"Sansa," he whispered.

"Are you okay?" She asked, stepping forward and taking his hand.

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

She smiled, knowing that was a lie. "I met Daenerys."

"How was it?" He asked with a frown.

"It went as well as it could," she said with a nod. "She said she hopes I'm happy, that you deserved better than a marriage of convenience. Said she'll be ready to claim you should I bore you."

After a quick scan of the corridor he smiled when she brought her hand up to rub his chin, much as Daenerys had earlier. Her fingers scratched his skin, and much like ghost he fought to keep his eyes open while leaning into her palm. "I doubt that will ever happen."


AN:

Bit more sex, so pardon if you dislike it, but this the last.

This was one of the harder chapters to write, since I actually like Jon and Dany about as well as Jon and Sansa. I'd prefer Jon/Dany/Sansa, and this nearly ended up that, but I wanted to make a point so kept it to Jonsa. Instead I went for them both being hurt by circumstance, but behaving like vaguely rational human beings with their own reasons.