He doesn't see Daenerys again until the next day. He knows she's returned, is woken up by a Dragon touching down the ship. But she doesn't come down to where her people are sleeping, and Jon doesn't feel confident enough to disturb her without a sign that it would be welcomed. He decides to wait until morning to approach her.
Daenerys is the one who approaches him instead. She comes below deck come morning, just as Jon had decided his men can eat without him while he goes to ask about her whereabouts.
Daenerys has a spectacular bruise along her jaw. It's going to become even more spectacular as the day passes, for it's a fresh one. More bruises are blooming on her arms and torso. There's one high on her thigh as well, partly hidden by the scrap of fabric she calls a skirt. Jon assumes Daenerys went to another ship to spar. He'd worry about the intensity of it if Daenerys didn't seem calm again.
Or rather, she seems settled. The grief and despair is gone, replaced by burning curiosity. She wastes no time in interrogating him about Maester Aemon, wishing to know everything about him.
So Jon tells her. Maester Aemon's quirks and habits, his favorite foods and pet peeves. He answers her every question as best he can.
His best feels woefully inadequate.
"Samwell Tarly can tell you more," he tells her. "He's a Brother of the Night Watch and was Maester Aemon's apprentice. He has far more stories about him than I do."
"Where can I find him?" Daenerys demands, looking like a starving person who's just been offered the finest of meals.
"He's at the Citadel. I'll send word to him when we arrive in White Harbor."
Daenerys lights up and it soothes the last of Jon's worries. Barristan Selmy was correct in claiming that stories about Maester Aemon are a gift.
Daenerys continues questioning him and Jon continues to answer to the best of his abilities. His best continues to feel inadequate. Jon tries to fix this by telling Daenerys of Maester Aemon's reaction to her exploits, the only thing she hasn't yet asked after, but he halts when it makes Daenerys turn conflicted. She doesn't become angry again, not quite. But it's clear that hearing of Maester Aemon's pride in her makes her wonder why he didn't contact her. Why he denied her the chance to meet the last of her family. Jon returns to sharing other stories.
His best feels less inadequate when it succeeds in making Daenerys laugh out loud.
Eventually, Daenerys' need to move around wins out. When she sees Missandei enter the room, she breaks away from their conversation without warning and runs over to her, embracing her in a hug while talking a mile a minute. Missandei is startled only for a brief moment, before she gains a fond smile, hugs Daenerys back and engages her in conversation. When Daenerys, after giving him a delighted smile that's as warming as her laughter from before, tugs Missandei along to leave the room, Missandei comes along willingly. She does give him a sharp eyed look as she does, though. The soldier who entered with Missandei, Torgo Nudho he thinks his name is, goes with them as well. Torgo Nudho is also looking at Daenerys with an affection Jon has seen the soldiers show only for her.
The interaction reveals just how close Daenerys and Missandei are. Daenerys loves all her people, but the way she acts with Missandei goes beyond that. They aren't merely Queen and subject, or rather, Captain and crew. They're the closest of friends.
With Daenerys gone, Jon takes the opportunity to check up on his men, some of whom had left for a different room. Then he finds a quiet corner to discuss business with Davos.
Davos does not wish to discuss business.
"You and Lady Daenerys seem to be getting along well."
Davos tone is polite in the way it only is when he's in the mood to tease.
"We're amicable," Jon says with a warning look. Davos ignores it.
"Very amicable I'd say. Not a development I saw coming, I'll admit."
"She's the best potential ally we've ever had," Jon says, reminding Davos of what's at stake. "We'd be fools to be anything but courteous."
"You are indeed granting her the utmost courtesy. I'm impressed by your diplomacy, Your Grace."
Jon gives Davos an unimpressed look, even as he can't help a flicker of amusement. Davos replies with a smile that's as deferential as it is shameless.
"There isn't any time for that, Davos," Jon says without heat. Part of him feels regret for that, he'll not lie to himself about that.
Most of him is relieved. Yes, he's attracted to Daenerys, but he has no desire to act on it. It's fortunate that the circumstances don't allow for it anyway.
"I don't know about that," Davos says, contrary as always. "A strong relationship can only help an alliance along."
"And if that relationship breaks?" Jon returns with a look that lets Davos know he's done fooling around. Davos responds by becoming serious as well.
"It's a risk, I'll not deny that. But the potential rewards outweigh that."
Jon believes Davos to mean the aid Daenerys could grant them in the Great War.
He isn't expecting what Davos says next.
"You deserve to be happy, Jon."
The words hit far harder than they should. Jon can't remember the last time he was truly happy.
No, that isn't true. He does remember. The last time he was truly happy was when reuniting with Sansa.
It didn't last long. Lasted only as long as it took for him to hear what she's been forced to endure. What he made her endure by abandoning their family.
Does he deserve to be happy? After all he's done, all the terrible decisions he's made, the terrible decisions he keeps on making...
Jon doesn't deserve to be happy. Hearing Davos claim otherwise makes him feel discomforted and guilty.
So he changes the subject. To his relief, Davos allows it without further argument. They finally discuss business.
There isn't much to discuss. Not about the voyage itself at least. There would be if they'd been sailing themselves, but as passengers, all major concerns are taken care of by Daenerys and her people. Still, there's more than enough to talk about. He and Davos finally get a chance to talk about Daenerys' people in depth, something they couldn't while still mining the dragonglass.
To no surprise, Davos has gathered far more information than Jon himself. They'd both realized that the Common Tongue and that bastardized version of Valerian are the main languages Daenerys' people use to communicate with each other, all fluent in at least one of the two and understanding the other. They both know Daenerys' people come from all over Essos and that most of them used to be slaves.
Davos knows that the soldiers are Unsullied. Slaves trained from childhood to become the perfect soldiers. Or rather, tortured into becoming them. Even Jon knows that the death toll of their training is monstrously high, and he knows all are made eunuchs as well. It explains their near inhuman discipline. It also makes compassion rise. No one deserves to treated like that.
He's glad they're following Daenerys now. Whatever her flaws, none can deny that she loves her people. Jon has seen her tease Unsullied with the same ease she teases others, and while he's never heard an Unsullied tease her back, he's seen them watch her with affection. Never when she's looking and most hide the emotion when they catch someone else watching them as well, but he's seen it. Given that this affection is about the only time he's seen the Unsullied show any emotion at all, it's a clear sign of just how devoted they are to Daenerys. Jon does wonder why the Unsullied still act like the perfect soldier when they no longer have to, but he supposes unlearning the lessons of a lifetime aren't easy. Especially not lessons as gruesome as the ones they went through.
Jon knows that the people and ships present don't form all the forces Daenerys has under her command by far. He knows that the majority chose to stay behind in Essos when she decided to come Westeros. Knows that the people present are those most devoted to her. He knows they're the ones who refused to be left behind.
Davos knows why the others didn't accompany her. They stayed behind to rule Slaver's Bay. Or Dragon's Bay, as it's been renamed. Daenerys razing Volantis, Astapor and Mereen to the ground turns out to be a slight exaggeration. She ruined them, there's no doubt about that, but she didn't leave them behind in shambles. Instead she set up new leaders compromising of her own people before leaving.
Davos is sensibly worried about the effect this will have on trade. Slaver's Bay is, or more accurately, was one of the major economic centers of the whole of Essos. The change in rule will have ripple effects that will reach even Westeros. They'll soon feel those effects, for it's apparently been near four months already since Daenerys burned down Slaver's Bay. Or liberated it, as her people call it.
The effects have probably been noticeable to some already, coastal towns most of all. It's just that the effects have until now been minor enough for Jon to not have heard about it. The last months have been hectic. He'd had other worries on his mind.
He worries about it now. Still, he can talk to Daenerys about this later. They'll be sailing together for awhile after all.
He and Davos are still talking when Daenerys returns and asks if he'd like to accompany her up deck. Jon is more than willing to comply. The conversation he and Davos are having can be continued another time. He can ask Daenerys about what she did in Dragon's Bay another day as well. For now, he continues answering the questions she still has about Maester Aemon as best he can. This time Daenerys listens while moving around her ship, helping out wherever help is needed.
Or rather, helping out wherever her people create the opportunity for her to do so. Even ignoring the Unsullied, whose near inhuman efficiency extends to their sailing skills, her people are clearly at home on sea. They could easily steer this ship without any assistance from Daenerys. But Daenerys apparently likes to keep busy, and so they ensure there's always something for her to do. They create these chores when Daenerys isn't looking, but Daenerys is well aware of what they're doing. The fond expression she gains when encountering the minor chores make that more than clear. Her people try to keep him from noticing their actions as well, but Jon manages to spy some of them sabotaging their own work. Once he even sees an Unsullied kick a perfectly coiled up rope so it ends being in people's way, just a little. When Daenerys passes by soon after, she gains another fond expression.
Jon helps her out as best he can. It leads to the chores growing slightly more complex. Daenerys' people taking his assistance into account.
After a while, Drogon touches down the ship and curls up for a nap. Daenerys passes by him for a brief touch to his nose, making Drogon radiate contentedness, but then she resumes wandering her ship.
Her people account for Drogon's presence, moving around him as best they can. They're still far closer than they ever were while ashore, but Drogon clearly understands that they're respecting his space as much as is possible. He never warns them to back away.
When Drogon wakes up, he calls for Daenerys. Daenerys breaks away from the conversation they'd been having and approaches Drogon with the clear intention to fly. Jon plans to watch them depart before joining Davos, now on deck with most of the men.
Instead of taking off as expected, Daenerys, already seated on Drogon's back, tilts her head and gives him a considering look.
"Would you like to fly with me?"
The shock he feels is immediately replaced by a desire no words can do justice. Yes, he wants to fly, more than anything he wants to fly.
Except Daenerys' question made Drogon let out an aggravated roar, every part of him radiating fierce reluctance and utter disgust. It couldn't be more clear that he despises the idea of carrying Jon.
"I don't think Drogon would enjoy that," Jon somehow manages to find the strength to say instead of jumping onto the invitation. An absent part of him is aware that all attention is on him and Daenerys, but most of him is struggling not to climb onto Drogon's back right this instant.
Drogon lets out a derisive snort and gives him a glare that tells Jon he finds this to be the greatest of understatements.
Daenerys gains a slow smile that turns her even more beautiful than usual, darkening bruise on her jaw be damned. She looks pleased, excited, and more than a little mischievous.
"You're right, he won't. But he will allow it."
It's all the permission he needs. Jon is climbing onto Drogon's back before he even realizes what he's doing, absently hears Davos and others cry out his name and Drogon hiss a warning in return but all he can focus on is the Magic beneath his hands, feet, beneath his entire body. It's so much more intense than when he touched Drogon before, the inferno seeming to sing as Jon climbs on with an ease he never expected. It's as though Drogon was made to be climbed, black spikes forming the perfect supports for his hands and feet. The only trouble comes when he needs to throw his leg over Drogon's back, yet even that stumble can't get rid of the giddy anticipation running through him.
And then he's seated behind Daenerys, his arms around her waist and his legs held secure behind her own.
Daenerys looks over her shoulder with bright eyes and a smile that's all anticipation.
"Hold on tight, Jon Snow."
He doesn't get a chance to reply before Drogon throws himself off the ship and snaps open his wings. Exhilaration takes over, the fear of falling a distant second despite the violent bucking caused by Drogon's beating wings as he works to gain altitude, and Jon's stomach is trying to escape his body and the wind is trying to throw him off and he should be freezing except how can he when he's seated atop the inferno that is Drogon, heat and magic surrounding him on all sides and setting his blood alight.
And then Drogon's flight stabilizes, his wings smoothly catching the currents. The ships, already an incredible distance away, become even smaller as Drogon smoothly flies away.
Jon is flying.
Daenerys looks over her shoulder with a wild grin. It grows even wilder when she meets his gaze.
It's only then that Jon realizes he's grinning as well. Madly so. He tries to say something, tries to express his awe, wonder, delight, his all encompassing joy.
He fails. There are no words that can do justice to what he's feeling. Instead he keeps grinning like a fool.
Daenerys doesn't seem to mind. She returns her gaze forward and spreads out her arms like she shares the same wings as her Dragons. The movement makes Jon realizes just how tightly he's holding on to her. Where before there had been room between them, however little, now none remains. His front is plastered against her back, her bright hair trapped between them, and his arms are holding her as though he wishes she were even closer.
Jon has never felt a greater need to feel her skin against his own. He should feel embarrassed by his own reaction, yet all he can do is curse the fact that he's wearing armor.
All he can do is revel in the glory that is flying. Even so, holding on to Daenerys like this when there's no longer a need for it is inappropriate. Jon is fairly certain he wouldn't have been able to let go of her under normal circumstances anyway, but these are not normal circumstances.
He lets go of her, leans back and spreads his arms as well. Dangerous, perhaps, but when will he ever again have the chance to feel like a Dragon?
Daenerys looks over her shoulder and laughs out loud when she sees his position. The wind carries her voice away, yet even the faint sound manages to catch is brighter than any other he's heard her make.
It's impossible not to join in. His own laughter is carried away as he revels in the indescribable wonder of flying. Jon feels lighter than he can ever remember being.
Daenerys takes hold of Drogon and gestures at him to grab hold of her again as well, still wearing that wild grin. Having an idea of what she might be planning, Jon eagerly does as he's told, hoping his suspicion is right.
It is. As soon as he has a firm hold on Daenerys, her grin becomes even wilder.
Drogon dives. It's dizzying and nauseating and the greatest feeling in the world, and his heart is about to leap out of his chest and Jon feels delirious and giddy and invincible, feels like there's nothing in the entire world that can stand in his way.
He feels free.
Then Drogon pulls out of his dive and oh, this is nothing like when he first took off. There's no effort needed to remain airborne, no need for great wingbeats. Instead Drogon cleaves through the air like an arrow, shooting up almost as fast as he came down.
It's even more glorious than when he dove. Jon can feel the earth trying to pull him down and the wind is pushing with all its might as well, only his hold on Drogon and Daenerys preventing him from being thrown off. Being able to defy the very world itself inspires a rush more powerful than any he's ever felt before.
When Drogon spreads his wings and his flight smooths out again, Daenerys looks over her shoulder. The sunlight catches on her eyes and the storm is transformed into a vivid purple. It looks as though the same fire that lives within her Dragons burns inside her as well.
For the first time Jon truly believes that is does. Believes that she isn't exaggerating in any way when she claims to be a Dragon.
"Do it again," he yells, trying to be heard over the wind. Judging from Daenerys' laughter, he's succeeded. Then Drogon is diving again and everything else falls away. There's nothing beyond the freedom rushing through his veins, the heady conviction that nothing in the world can stand in his way. Right now Jon could take on the Night King himself and win.
And even though no other sensation could ever compare to the wonder of flying, there's something achingly familiar about it nonetheless.
It reminds Jon of when he went riding with Robb. When they would race each other as fast they could and all their troubles would fall away. For once, the memory doesn't inspire pain.
It inspires joy.
Jon doesn't know how long he remains in the air. Time is meaningless, nothing existing beyond the wonder of flying. The only thing he's truly aware of is when Rhaegal joins them, before being replaced by Viserion. Even that can't hold more than a fraction of his attention.
He's flying!
When they return to the fleet, it feels as though no time has passed at all. Jon could have stayed in the air for days, weeks, years, could have stayed forever and wanted for nothing more.
Climbing down Drogon takes longer than getting on him did. In part because Jon doesn't want to get off him, in part because his thighs are aching in a way that reveal just why Daenerys' own are so remarkably firm, and in part because of the exhilaration still holding him captive. The satisfaction and desire to go flying again right this instant go so much deeper than the physical, but that doesn't stop it from expressing itself in a familiar way.
Daenerys leaps off Drogon like falling could never hurt her. The moment both of them are off Drogon, Drogon shakes himself violently, looking as though he's trying to get rid of something nasty stuck to his hide. Him not enjoying carrying Jon was indeed an understatement.
"Thank you," Jon tells him, needing to express his gratitude. Part of him is aware of how breathless he sounds.
Drogon ignores him and dives into the ocean with sinuous grace, but Daenerys lets out one of those bright laughs. It's even brighter now that he can hear it in full.
"Your courtesy does you credit, oh King in the North," she says, still wearing that wild grin of hers.
"Only a fool would be discourteous to a Dragon," he returns with a grin of his own, couldn't contain it even if he wanted to. Not with the exhilaration thrumming through him still.
The exhilaration turns carnal when Daenerys siddles up to him, leaning closer than she has since he rejected her offer of intimacy. Jon is acutely aware how easy it would be to close the distance between them. How easy it would be to find out if her lips are as soft as they appear to be.
"Flying suits you, Jon Snow," Daenerys all but purrs and it sets his blood alight even further. It takes everything he has not to lean down and verify for himself whether or not Daenerys tastes of the same magic her Dragons hold.
The storm of Daenerys' eyes is made even more intense by her desire. When her gaze darts down to his lips, the hunger in her expression makes it near impossible to remain still. Jon isn't sure how he manages to keep from touching her. Neither can he remember why it's so important that he doesn't.
To his regret, Daenerys doesn't close the distance between them. Instead she lets out a sound of longing that hits like lightning, before she abruptly turns around and marches away. Jon is absently aware of Davos coming to stand beside him but most of him is focused on the sway of Daenerys' hips. On the scars on her back he wishes to caress until pleasure overwhelms the memory of their creation.
"Remember our talk earlier?" Davos asks in the voice that means he's setting up a punchline. Jon replies with a curt nod, incapable of speaking through the desire holding him captive. As he is incapable of looking away from Daenerys, now hopping onto the railing. She turns around so she can watch him and grabs hold of the rigging, her gaze heady and mesmerizing. She's leaning towards him like there's a physical pull between them. Jon is fairly certain that she grabbed onto the rigging in order to keep herself from jumping him right this instant. A very small part of him says that this is a good thing.
Most of him wishes she would let go of the rope and hold on to him instead. Wishes she would do far more than merely touch him.
Missandei comes to stand beside the railing and says something that makes Daenerys gain a slow and wicked smile, her gaze somehow becoming even headier. It succeeds in heating up his blood even further.
"If you really meant it, you might want to stop looking at her like a wolf who's just spotted the most delicious of prey. Just a suggestion, Your Grace."
Normally Jon would've been embarrassed by how blatant he's being but normally he isn't drunk on the rush of flying.
Normally he doesn't feel free.
Davos is right. He should stop looking at Daenerys like this. Should stop imaging what she tastes like, what she'd sound like when being driven mad by pleasure. And he will stop. It's his duty to do so, and so Jon will stop.
Just not right now.
