Author's Note: I just made a frenzied Tumblr post about how I have already written a half-dozen of the plot points that are occurring in the show. If you'd like to check it out, it's hardlyfatal dot tumblr dot com. Hit me up.

Thanks for your reviews, hope you like this chapter :)

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Dany's earlier hopes of intimacy with Jon sputtered out, after that. They were exhausted, both from traveling and Jon's revelation of his parentage. She dismissed the serving girls who had waited by her door to assist her with readying for bed. Jon unbuckled and unpinned and untied until she was released from her gown, and then she returned the favor, peeling the close-fitting jerkin and pants from him while ardently wishing she had the energy to do what she wished with his fine, strong body. Judging by the look on his face when she stood before him, nude, he was wishing the same, but only gave a weary sigh.

"Tomorrow will be difficult," Dany murmured into his chest once they were under the heavy damask quilt, curled around each other. "Plans to make, ravens to send."

"We'll do it," he replied sleepily. "But our Hands are smart men; we probably won't even be needed."

"Perhaps we'll be able to snatch some time to ourselves, then," she commented, and circled his nipple with her fingertip.

He tensed under her, and she felt him begin to harden against her hip. Then his hand smoothed over her backside, cupping one cheek before giving it a firm squeeze. Heat pushed past her fatigue, and she shifted to kiss him, her lips teasing his until they parted.

"I wanted our first time to be good," Jon murmured between kisses down her throat. "Not something half-asleep like this."

It did not last long; they were too tired to spend long moments exploring and arousing each other as they might have wished. But Dany was feeling rather desperately in need of a way to express her relief that Jon would not be ending them before they had begun, and if his fervor were any indication, he needed the same.

When it was over, they lay there, panting and astonished.

"If you think that was a poor first time between us," Dany said when she could breathe properly again, "I don't think I'll survive what you would call a good time."

"Turns out, I can be wrong sometimes," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I don't feel like I'm betraying Ygritte," he continued, more soberly. "I think she'd want me happy."

"Drogo wouldn't," Dany said. "He'd want me pining over him forever. And I thought I would be." She stretched up to kiss him again. "You've given me more than you realize, Jon."

He slid his hands up her back, gathering her hair in his hands and spreading it around them as she'd noticed he enjoyed doing. "No more than I've received from you."

He did not see how, though he had given himself to her freely, with all the warmth of his generous soul, she had fought against the danger he posed to her heart. He did not know that she had relinquished hers only grudgingly, helplessly, unable to keep it in her own chest when it rightfully belonged to him.

She wondered, sometimes, what he could possibly find in her to love, but she was not above taking what he gave her, even if she did not deserve it. She was a dragon, and dragons did not scruple when riches fell into their laps. Nor did they quail before the challenge of regaining a treasure stolen from them.

Jon had fallen asleep; good. They had much to decide in the morning, about how to regain her kingdoms, and then protect them from the threat to the North.

They woke late the next morning, and had to endure the knowing looks from their respective advisors, but Dany felt it was well worth it. They separated briefly, to bathe and dress, then had lunch and repaired to the map room to discuss tactics and strategy, now that everyone knew what they were up against and united in their commitment to battle it.

The first order of business was logistics, and timing: all agreed that in order to focus on the Night King and his army of ghouls, they would have to eliminate Cersei, and quickly. Dany proposed hitting King's Landing hard and soon, a decisive strike that disregarded matters of collateral damage.

Jon was grim as he considered this, pacing back and forth in front of the windows, his brow furrowed.

"What if… what if… you demanded Cersei's surrender? If she knows that you're no longer looking to preserve King's Landing, that not only is her army in danger of defeat but her own life is at stake as well, perhaps she'll…"

His words faded away as he took in the expressions of everyone around him. Missandei and Davos were sympathetic to his hope Cersei could see reason; Tyrion and Varys were openly pitying of his naivety. Dany admired his dogged pursuit to protect as many innocents as possible, even while she knew it was pointless, and that waiting for Cersei's inevitable rejection would be a waste of time.

"I say we offer to accept her surrender, but still make ready to invade the city," she said. "That way, if she actually accepts, we'll be pleasantly surprised, but if she does not, we'll also be pleasantly prepared."

It was the best compromise she could think of, to satisfy Jon's need to at least try to save the city's residents.

Tyrion drew an impatient breath, but held his tongue. Varys was expressionless, but she knew he had an opinion, and suspected it was not a positive one.

"That… could work?" said Davos, more a question than a statement.

"I worry that, if Cersei is as… formidable an opponent as Lords Tyrion and Varys have stated," Missandei said, "a demand for surrender might…" She trailed away, not wanting to be offensive with plain speaking.

Tyrion had no such fear. "Push her over the edge she has been teetering on for years?" he said. "Tragically, I can see that being the case. Now that her children are gone—" sorrow flitted across his scarred face for the niece and nephew he'd lost and still mourned "—she has nothing to lose."

"But her other brother is there, is he not?" Jon asked, unable to imagine a person not wanting to protect their sibling. "Surely she would want to save him, at the very least."

Tyrion tsked. "As far as Cersei is concerned, Jaime is no more than an… avatar of herself. A barely autonomous creature who exists to do her bidding. She'd not only be fine with his dying alongside her, she'd insist upon it."

Jon grimaced, clearly disgusted and shocked. Dany was beginning to see how Ned Stark had ended up dead; he had raised his children to be as honorable and trusting and genuine as he himself was, and that had been a grave error. Such people had no way to survive in a world where treachery abounded and familial bonds meant little. She was very relieved he had her, now, to keep him safe.

"So we have an additional perk, if the impossible happens and Cersei surrenders," Davos said. "The salvation of Ser Jaime."

"Only to be executed after the fact," muttered Tyrion. When no one replied, he said, "As if you'd let him live, after the role he has played in… in everything. From the beginning. From before the beginning. Even I know it would be foolish to let him live."

But it was clear the idea bothered him. Dany knew he loved his brother, and since there were few people Tyrion actually cared about more than himself, it would be a grievous loss for him. But he was not wrong; how could she leave Jaime alive, after all he had done to support Cersei and foment dissent and disruption in Westeros. As long as there were any sort of figurehead who could be used to rally support behind, her rule would never be truly secure.

Speaking of figureheads…

"I wish to make use of the Vale's army," she said, and looked at Jon. "Will Clegane bring them if I command it?"

Tyrion's face crumpled into a ferocious scowl. "You cannot possibly be speaking of Sandor Clegane? How is he in charge of the Vale's troops?"

"He is at Winterfell, and apparently in love with my sister," said Jon. "He'd have to be, to agree to her mad scheme to bring him up to snuff."

Tyrion stared at him. "Your sister… as in my wife? My wife Sansa? He's—" He stopped. "But of course he is. I had suspected he wanted her, the way he was always prowling about in her vicinity… and that time I caught them holding hands on the serpentine…" He sighed. "What about a mad scheme? Up to snuff?"

"She wants to marry him. But she knows there'd be an uproar if a Stark married down so far. So she's for getting him recognition in the war, to raise him up enough for her."

Tyrion blinked, clearly struggling to assimilate it all. "But Baelish will never agree to it," he said at last. "He's had designs on Sansa, himself, since—"

"Baelish is dead," said Jon flatly, "and good riddance."

Eyebrows were raised all around the room at this uncharacteristic show of vehemence.

"And so, with Robert Arryn lacking an agent to act on his behalf, and the Vale's men needing a captain, at Lady Sansa's request, I named him Lord Protector," said Dany. "I do not expect him to endure long in this role. It's clear he does not have the temperament. But if he can last long enough for my purposes, I will be satisfied."

"And what are your purposes, Your Grace?" asked Missandei while Tyrion fumed in silence.

"To recall as many troops as possible and amass them around the perimeter of King's Landing. If Cersei does not present herself in surrender by that time, we will pervade the city and rout her out. I am confident my Unsullied and Dothraki will suffice in numbers, but it would be nice to have even more soldiers to ensure a speedy victory."

"You'll have the men of the North, too," said Jon, his voice quiet.

Davos, alarmed, took a step toward his king. "Jon— Your Grace—"

"It's in our best interest, Davos," Jon said hotly. He planted his hands on the map table and stared at his Hand across it. "It was going to happen anyway. I told you last night— Cersei was bringing the fight to us. She's sending troops to White Harbor. We were going to have to battle her eventually. I'm just bringing the fight to her, instead. And instead of how we thought it would be— the North against all the rest of Westeros— it will be us, plus all of Dany's men. The sooner we solve the problem in the south, the sooner we can turn our attention to the problem in the North."

They stood and looked at each other, all of them, for a long, tense moment, until Davos gave a slow nod.

"We'll have to leave troops in place around White Harbor," he said. "But now's a good time to strike, with a third of her forces stuck in ships halfway up the sea. And if you can get her to surrender before they make land, you'll have those troops to use against the White Walkers, too."

"How long will it take to get the Vale's men here?" Dany asked.

"Any coming from The Eyrie will take two and a half weeks," said Tyrion, "From Winterfell, a month. If they set a very brisk pace."

"I'll send a raven to Winterfell," said Davos, "that they're to leave right away." At Jon's nod, he left the room in a purposeful stride.

"I have misgivings about this," Tyrion intoned gravely. "You don't know Cersei as I do. She will take offense at the demand for surrender. She will run mad."

"It seems to me as if she takes offense at everything," Dany said, "and I am not particularly concerned about her mood or sanity. We won't send the raven to her until we're almost outside the gates of King's Landing, thus giving her as little time as possible to plot some sort of dread response."

Tyrion stomped out, muttering.

"I will let my little birds know to alert us if there is any word of Cersei's plans," said Varys, and bowed before leaving.

Missandei soon excused herself as well, leaving Dany with Jon. She went to him immediately, feeling her weariness with planning battles fall away with his embrace.

"A raven was waiting for me when we got back," he said. "Davos only gave it to me this morning. It's from my old friend from the Night Watch, Sam Tarly. He says that there's a huge cache of dragonglass in the rock of this island, under the very castle itself."

"Yes?"

"Dragonglass and Valyrian steel are the only two things I've seen that can kill a White Walker. I'd like your permission to begin mining it, so it can be used in weapons. We'll have to outfit every man in our armies with a weapon tipped in dragonglass. The sooner we can get it to the blacksmiths, they can begin forging."

And time was of the essence.

"Of course," she said. "Whatever is needed; take it all. I'll have our blacksmiths begin, as well, and men to help mining it. The Unsullied will be glad to have something to do, I think. They've been bored and can't pass the time coupling with each other as the Dothraki do."

That surprised Jon into a smile.

"Speaking of which…" he murmured. "I'm not tired at all, today. I expect I'll be feeling quite myself tonight."

"Funny you say that," Dany replied, unable to keep her own silly smile off her face. "I was thinking how well-rested I am today, as well. I might not need to sleep at all tonight."

Jon leaned down, or perhaps she stretched up, but then they were kissing, gently, softly, in no rush.

"I've been thinking about your brother," she said when they surfaced.

"Bran?"

She nodded. "And what he said about the curse. I think I know what it means."

"I've been thinking about it, too. It's made sense ever since I spoke with Howland Reed."

"It means I can have children again, Jon," she said. "And I want to, so much. With you."

"I know you do. I think about a baby with your eyes, all the time," he replied. He brushed a thumb over her eyebrow, then her cheekbone.

Love for him twisted in her belly. "I see them all with your hair," said Dany, smiling so much her cheeks hurt.

"All?" Jon looked startled. "How many were you planning on?"

"As many as we can manage."

He brushed his lips over her cheek. "We're still young. We could probably manage a lot."

"I'm counting on it."

He was silent, holding her, staring out the window distractedly. She waited, knowing he'd speak when he was ready.

"But it worries me, Dany."

She knew why.

"I am, too," she admitted. "But Bran said that this could be the last time. Doesn't it seem, then, as if our children would be fine, but they can't… repeat the process, ever again?"

"We'll have to put laws in place," Jon said. "It cannot be allowed again. The only way I can bear it is because you and I met as adults. If any of our children, raised together…" He shuddered against her. "It cannot happen, Dany."

She knew he was right. She'd seen Viserys' madness, been the victim of it, and knew enough of her father's, to see the folly of such a practice. It had been done to ensure only the 'best' stock in the royal family, but without any fresh blood infusing the line, her ancestors had become progressively more volatile, with the specter of the madness that haunted them creeping out of the shadows more and more frequently with each generation.

"We'll pass whatever laws you feel necessary," she agreed. "And if any of our children show signs of being… unwell… we'll strike them from the order of succession. But we're going to raise them well, Jon. Not to look at each other in that way. And not the way we were raised, despised as outcastes. They'll grow up with love, in a family, knowing they belong and are safe."

"Safety won't be ours for a while, though, Dany," he told her, his face earnest. "Even after Cersei is gone, and you're established on the throne, we have the Night King to defeat. Only once that is done can we think of beginning a family. It's too dangerous, for you to be expecting in the middle of a war."

She nodded slowly, frustrated that the hope and wish she'd begun to foster in her heart ever since they'd left Winterfell would have to be delayed, perhaps for years. "I'll take moon tea every morning."

He held her close once more, his hand cupping the back of her head and his cheek resting on her hair. "Thank you. I know it will be hard for you to wait. For me, too. There's little I want more than to see you carrying our child."

He slid a hand down, to rest flat on her belly.

"You might eat those words, once it actually happens. I was a horrible tyrant, when I carried Rhaego," she told him, grinning. "Demanding. With the strangest cravings. And puffy ankles. And—"

"It sounds terrifying," Jon said, laughing. "Did I say to wait until after the war? Let's wait longer than that."

She slapped his shoulder and gave his a stern glare but he just kept laughing, and oh, he was beautiful when he laughed. Dany found herself grinning back at him, stupidly pleased she'd amused him.

"Ahem," Davos said, giving a very unconvincing cough to alert them to his presence.

"Yes, Ser Davos?" Jon said, his mirth fading to a smile.

"I've had a raven before I could send one," his Hand said. "From your lady sister."