A/N: This has previously been posted on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same penname- Smolengineer. I'm transferring all currently posted chapters (1-8), and new chapters will subsequently also be updated here. Enjoy!
There's a couple things to keep in mind about this fic, since it's a little AU from the get go.
-Daenerys never took Daario as a lover, and Hizdar died before their marriage, so she has not taken another man to her bed since her marriage to Drogo. A small part of her hopes Mirri Maz Durr's curse isn't true, however she believes it is.
-Since learning Jon has been crowned King in the North, Tyrion has suggested on several occasions that Jon is her hest prospect for a marriage alliance.
-Jon and Daenerys have had nightly dinners since he showed her the dragonglass cave and the drawings within it- a suggestion from Tyrion as a way to encourage an amicable relationship and to further strengthen their fragile alliance. Daenerys reluctantly agreed and the pair have begun to warm up to one another.
-Tyrion and Davos are prepping to go to King's Landing in order to meet with Jaime and they will be leaving in the morning following the dinner in the first part of this chapter.
DAENERYS
"You're drinking more than usual this evening, your grace," Jon observed from across the small table before taking a sip from his own cup.
Daenerys arched a brow at his statement, then self-consciously put her wine cup down. "And if I am?" she asked, her tone curious as to why it would matter how much she drank. She'd just won a great victory, she deserved to celebrate, even if it was only a few extra cups of wine over dinner with Jon Snow.
The man smiled at her question, the action making Daenerys' heart flutter a little. "There's nothing wrong with it. Just stating a fact", was his cryptic response as he tore into a heel of bread. "Your victory over the Blackwater Rush today have anything to do with it?"
"It would." She smiled back, nibbling on her own bread. She debated bringing up her other reason for drinking a little more wine than usual two cups, knowing it was something she inevitably had to ask of him but also knew it could potentially irreparably damage the fragile friendship they had begun to build via their nightly suppers. So she'd taken to drinking her sweet arbor gold in greater excess than normal in the hope that she'd gain some courage to do what needed to be done.
Tyrion had apparently noticed their growing friendship, and pointed out that regardless if this half-cocked plan for an armistice worked and they managed to defeat this Night King that Jon Snow believed in, the northern lords were a prickly lot, and not liable to be happy to watch their king bend the knee and surrender their independence to her. Would it not, then, be smarter to make Jon Snow not only the king in the north but king of the seven kingdoms as well? Bring the north into the fold by marrying their king.
Daenerys couldn't deny his logic, and as frustrated with the brooding man as she had been upon their first meeting, she had to admit he was growing on her. It also helped that he was the most handsome man she'd ever come across, his deep northern burr of an accent much more pronounced than Ser Jorah's, something about the way his full lips moved around his words made her nearly shudder in pleasure every time he spoke.
Finally deciding to just get it over with she licked her lips and sighed, setting down her nearly untouched piece of bread then caught his gaze. "I also…. Find myself a bit nervous, which is a new feeling for me, if I am being honest."
"Am I that intimidating?" Jon teased, his lips pulled up into a slight smirk.
"Not at all." Daenerys countered with a smirk of her own. She found she really like it when he smiled, especially when it was from his own humor. Something about the small gesture that he kept locked away seemed amazingly intimate, and she could not shake how handsome he was when his eyes lit up in mirth.
"You and I have negotiated a rather fragile alliance based on Cersei agreeing to an armistice." She began, her face smoothing to a serious expression, her fingers idly toying with the rim of her cup. "And while I believe you when you say you will march your armies south to help me take my rightful place on the throne, it still leaves us in a rather peculiar spot." Daenerys eyed him as she spoke, taking in every minor twitch and expression he let slip past his stoic exterior… Which wasn't much.
"You mean how I won't bend the knee and you think the North belongs to you regardless." the king in the north pointed out rather bluntly as he tossed his bread onto his plate.
She winced slightly, looking down at her glass for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "I apologize for how I approached my rule here in Westeros. I've had those close to me call me a conqueror, like my ancestor, Aegon. Thinking I could come to Westeros and expect all kingdoms to bend the knee without proving myself different from all the shit kings and queens before me was stupid." she paused, almost amused by the surprised look on Jon's face- one that morphed into a small smile.
"Your steadfastness to not bend the knee has been extremely frustrating, yet eye-opening. I've scoffed at how my brother Viserys believed that people cried out for their true leader and sewed dragon banners in secret, yet I come here giving ultimatums- bend the knee or die. You've made me realize it cannot be as black and white as that."
Jon's brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you saying?"
Daenerys cleared her throat, delaying a few seconds for what she was about to say. "I am saying that … we have an alliance out of a mutual understanding that you need my help just as much as I need yours, however, we haven't really spoken about what comes after that, nor have we spoken of terms to ensure we both keep our word."
"I keep my word," Jon replied, his voice barely above a whisper, his tone almost a threat. He was angry.
"I don't doubt that, Jon." She said quietly, placing her hand over his on the table and using only his name in hopes of placating him. Daenerys truly believed that Jon always kept his word- it was the sort of man Ned Stark was, according to Tyrion and Varys, and Jon was definitely his father's son when it came to being honorable it seemed. "What I am doubting, is your people's ambition to march south and help me reclaim my throne after they've fought against the dead. I understand the north has been the hardest hit kingdom due to all the recent wars, and we have two yet to come. You said your people would never accept a southern ruler after all they've been through, and I suspect they would have just as hard a time accepting a Targaryen on top of it all. So … if the people of the north are to maintain their independence, what incentive do they have to leave their families yet again, in order to fight and die for a Targaryen, whose house they hate, and will not be their ruler by the end of it all?"
Jon opened his mouth to speak then promptly closed it, the gears of thought very obviously turning in his head. After a few moments of silence, he sighed in resignation. "What is your plan then?"
"What if…" she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "What if, the north became one with the other six kingdoms again, but they didn't have to bend the knee to me?"
She was met with another frown, the crease in his eyebrows back. "Why is it that everyone in the south always dances around the point they're trying to make?" He asked, irritation and confusion evident in his tone. "The only way the north would be included in the seven kingdoms and not bend the knee to you is if … I ... became ... king." His face fell as he realized what she was asking. "You mean to make me king of the seven kingdoms? And what of you?"
"I would rule by your side. Equally, as your queen."
If the situation wasn't so serious, Daenerys would have laughed at the dumbfounded look on Jon's face. "You're asking me to marry you?"
Daenerys nodded. "I thought if you were to agree to the proposal, that we wait to announce any sort of engagement or hold any ceremony until after the parlay and we travel to Winterfell." She added, a serious expression on her face, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Lord Tyrion and I are worried that to do so prior to meeting your lords and informing them of my intentions would have them convinced I seduced you into being my consort."
Jon laughed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "They uh… they've already warned me to beware your charms. Several lords were worried I'd leave and not come home because you'd kill me on the spot or seduce me into submission. It's good to see you want to prove them wrong."
Daenerys laughed at that, picking up her cup and taking a sip before gently setting it back down. "I'm aware of my beauty as well as what people think I might do with it. The term 'foreign whore' was muttered more than once during my time in Essos." she paused, letting Jon recover from the shock of hearing her say such a dirty word. She couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction again. "It is an unfortunate reality of my station. And should you accept this proposal, you will probably have to get used to people whispering behind your back that this foreign whore did actually seduce you."
"But you haven't…"
"I know I haven't. People will say it all the same. Others will wonder why a queen married a bastard. And truthfully, I don't care what your name is… you seem decent enough to me, and honestly, you are the best match politically." Daenerys replied, toying with the rim of her cup again. "It certainly helps that you're ridiculously handsome and a little rough around the edges. I like that."
She grinned and watched his entire face turn red, from the tip of his nose to the tops of his ears. Gods, he was beautiful.
"I can't seriously be the first person to have told you that?" she asked incredulously when he didn't answer.
"I… well no." Jon huffed, chugging down a good bit of wine. "I've been called 'pretty' almost all my life. Hearing it come from you is… something else."
Daenerys arched a brow in curiosity, her lips breaking into a sly smile. "Is it?"
"Aye," Jon replied, giving her a wry smile. "Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe you, your grace. But since I'm no poet, that word will have to do. To hear you say you find me as desirable as I find you…. Seven hells…" He trailed off, gulping down the rest of his wine.
"Dany." She spoke up, saving him from any further humiliation even as her own cheeks grew hot. If he agreed to the proposal it was good to know they found each other attractive. "You can call me Dany. At least in private… and so long as I may call you Jon."
His face only turned even redder as she suggested they call one another by name and not title, and he merely nodded as he poured himself more wine offering her some as well. Dany glanced into her cup and shook her head- it was still half full, and her head was fuzzy enough as it was.
"I suppose you'll want to speak with Ser Davos about the proposal. Perhaps even send a raven home to consult your lords?" she asked, slipping into her diplomatic self to avoid further embarrassment on both their parts.
"Aye." Jon agreed, clearing his throat. "It's probably best we have both Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion here for the finer negotiation bits. Though, what's the use of us being a king and queen if we can't make our own decisions from time to time?" He asked, a small smirk playing about his lips. "Consider this my informal acceptance, Dany. So long as we rule equally, my stubborn lords can't complain too much. And if they do, I'll put them in their place."
Daenerys felt a wide smile break out on her face, happiness literally bubbling through her in a way she hadn't truly felt since she was a child in Braavos. It surprised her, that happiness. She had expected to come to Westeros and marry some lord in order to secure more troops, offering herself up like a piece of meat in order to ensure she got her throne. She expected to have to fight said lord to make him understand he was King Consort, and that she held the true power. She never expected to have to fight someone else's war first, or happily offer herself up to a man in order to secure their alliance, nor had she expected to be somewhat eager to share the throne, but that was because she had never met a man like Jon Snow.
"A toast, then." She suggested, lifting her cup toward him. "Here's to strong military alliances secured by marriage. Long may we reign."
"Long may we reign."
That night, Daenerys laid awake for a long time, giddy as a maiden fawning over a gallant knight in the songs.
After their toast, she and Jon began exchanging stories of their childhoods, the good ones anyway. It seemed for as hard as they both had it as children, they were both able to find a great deal of joy in odd places. She relished learning what helped shape Jon into the man he was, especially now that he was to be her husband and king. It wasn't long before she was looking forward to their wedding night, a prospect that made her laugh in irony, as she hadn't been nearly as excited about having to bed her first husband.
But as the years passed after Drogo's death, she couldn't bring herself to take on a lover, focusing on ruling in Mereen and preparing the cities within the newly named Bay of Dragons for her inevitable departure for Westeros. But those years were long and lonely, and that part of her looked forward to having a man hold her and love her once more. Especially because that man was comely with raven black curls her fingers itched to comb through and full luscious lips that begged to be kissed and bitten.
Eventually, the fire died down to coals and their wine ran out, and Daenerys began to excuse herself to retire for the night, the hour much later than was normal for her to go to bed, and he asked to escort her to her chambers. The action was one she would have questioned before, but now it filled her with excitement, her heart pounding and mind wandering, hoping he might invite himself in for a nightcap and it leading to much more. She shook her head as they walked arm and arm down the hall to her rooms, chiding herself for such lewd thoughts and reminding herself to not drink so much in the future.
He didn't invite himself inside, much to her disappointment. He did, however, take her hand in his and gently kissed it, his eyes smoldering over her knuckles and his lips ghosted over her skin as he whispered "Goodnight, Dany." She felt her pulse quicken and she couldn't help the parting of her lips and the soft sigh that escaped. He had simply smirked and left before she could come to her senses and jump him in the hallway, all queenly manners be damned.
The gesture left her hot and bothered in all the best ways, and she snuggled under her heavy quilt, looking forward to spending more time with her somber Northman.
Missandei woke her at daybreak, offering her a warm roll slathered in butter and a sweet peppermint tea for her slight hangover. Daenerys nibbled at the roll and sipped at the tea gingerly as Missandei helped her prepare for the day, dressing in her suede leggings that clung to her like a second skin and boots, along with a rather short tunic and a leather overcoat, her hair braided more simply than normal. She was to go see Ser Davos and Tyrion off and planned to go riding afterward. Such activities didn't call for her normal queenly garb.
"Please have Qhono return weapons to King Jon and his men," she said to Missandei, the woman raising an eyebrow in knowing interest. Dany smiled sheepishly, her cheeks growing warm. "He said yes."
"Congratulations, your grace," Missandei replied, positively beaming. "I'm assuming this is on a need to know basis at the moment?"
"Yes. Until we get the details worked out and I am able to introduce myself to the Northern lords… Jon and I thought it best to wait."
"It's Jon, now?" her friend teased.
Daenerys felt her cheeks growing warmer, and she was tempted to throw the rest of her roll at her. "Nothing has happened. He only just agreed last night. I have a feeling though… he will want to wait until the night of the wedding. Something tells me that damnable honor of his will make us wait."
"As you say." Missandei laughed. "I will ensure his grace and his men have his weapons. Have a good day riding, your grace. I'll see you at the noon meal."
An hour later she made her way down to the beach and met with Jon, who looked much more comfortable with his sword now secured upon his hip, to see Tyrion and Ser Davos off. He eyed her unusual outfit speculatively, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly in a smile before his features returned to their normal stoicism. With an internal sigh in frustration, she turned to her Hand.
"Well, my queen, I'm off. Don't do anything rash while I'm gone, and I'll do my best to return with my head still attached to my shoulders." Tyrion quipped, bowing slightly to both herself and Jon.
"Be sure that you both do return, whether Cersei agrees to meet with us or not," Daenerys advised as the odd pair climbed into the rowboat. "King Jon and I have a proposal to discuss with you both."
Tyrion's eyes went wide and Ser Davos smiled at the pair, then nodded to Jon. "So you were tellin' the truth. Good on ya lad, I'll do my best to get this one back so we can work out the particulars." The kind older man said, taking a seat.
"Look! She finally takes my advice!" Tyrion laughed, taking a seat as well. "Thank the gods at least something I've suggested seems to have sunk in! I'm sure that we'll be able to work something out. If the two of you want to work on it yourselves and save us the trouble…"
"What use do we have of you as advisors if we make the decisions all on our own?" Jon pointed out, the ghost of a smile back on his lips. Everyone chuckled at his remark.
"Yes, then perhaps don't speak of it for a day and a night. It's not as if Davos and I will be in your marriage bed.." Tyrion smirked and waved, Ser Davos laughing as the boat was pushed into the surf by a mixed team of Northmen and Dothraki.
Daenerys spared a glance at Jon who was beet red, his expression glowering after their advisors in the quickly shrinking rowboat. She giggled, catching his attention, then did her best to straighten her features and failing miserably.
"It's not funny." Jon huffed, shuffling his feet awkwardly, now watching his men and hers amble toward the cave to mine. "I'd rather not have anyone mention our… that."
Daenerys tried to keep a straight face at how uncomfortable he was, but it was like watching a boy who'd been caught sneaking sweets before dinner. She couldn't help the small chuckles that escaped her lips.
"You're not… a virgin, are you Jon Snow?"
"No, I'm not a virgin." He almost snapped back, his face even redder than before. "I just… don't like to talk about it."
"Well, seeing as we're to be married, it is something that we should discuss." She pointed out, turning to head back toward the castle. "Perhaps tonight, at supper, when we're alone, we can speak more on the subject. I'm headed to the stables to go riding. Would you care to join me? Or are you going to be mining more dragonglass?"
"Actually, I've got something to show you, if you don't mind." He replied, a hand extending in an offer to take hers. "It's in the dragonglass cave."
She arched an eyebrow in interest and took his hand, allowing him to pull her arm through his. It was a bit unusual for her, to be treated as he treated her, but she wouldn't complain. She quite liked how it felt to have him leading her on his arm, and how she could catch a waft of his scent every so often- pine, and woods, and musk. She idly wondered if this is how she would have been treated by a marriage prospect had she grown up a princess in the Red Keep, and not on the run.
As they entered the cave they had to part, Jon taking a torch and leading the way. It was different this time, winding past the alcove that housed the drawings, past the main area where men worked to diligently remove the fragile obsidian from the harder rock, so far back that heat began to radiate from the rocks and she could tell Jon was becoming a little uncomfortable. To her, though, the heat was comforting. It almost called to her in a way; she felt at home.
The narrow passage between the rocks suddenly opened up to a large cavern, the floor gently sloping down toward a large pool of water that stretched out to touch all the walls, save for a ledge jutting out from where they stood. On the ledge looked to be a small trunk attached to a raft. Daenerys stepped to the water's edge to get a better look at the items on the ledge, but it was a good fifty yards from where she stood, and difficult to completely make out in the dancing light of the torch.
"We've tried to get it." Jon suddenly said, his quiet voice still echoing around the chamber. "But it would take too long to build a proper boat, and none of us can swim. Well, I can a bit, but it gets pretty deep, and I'm not confident enough in my abilities as a swimmer to get across and back without losing it or going under."
Daenerys turned to him, excited. "I can swim. I can get it!" She exclaimed, pulling off her jacket and sitting on the floor to pull off her boots.
"You're going to go get it? Now?"
"Why not?" She asked, standing back up, her hands grabbing the bottom of her tunic to pull it off, but Jon's hand over hers stopped her.
"You're really going to undress in front of me?" he asked, his voice nearly a growl. A small part of her wanted to back away, as she would have all those years ago when she was a scared girl living under Viserys' thumb. The dragon in her roared at the challenge.
"Why shouldn't I undress in front of you?" She countered, relaxing her grip slightly so that he would calm down. Right now was not the time to flare up an argument for the sake of it. "You said you're not a virgin, so anything I've got beneath my clothes shouldn't surprise you, and I'm to be your wife. You're going to see it anyway."
Jon frowned, not able to immediately counter her argument. "I know all that. It just… would mean a lot to me if the first time I saw you… the first time I had you… was as husband and wife. You're already tempting enough as it is in those pants. I want you, Dany. Gods, do I want you. But I know how cruel this world is to bastards, and I won't put one in you. I don't want our children to have that hanging over their heads. So please, don't make that temptation worse for me." He pleaded.
Dany's gaze softened, her heart breaking slightly at how much the thought of bringing another bastard into the world tormented him. If she thought it would bring him any comfort she would reveal her own secret to him- her barrenness- but she couldn't. Not right now. So instead she nodded, then tilted her chin toward the entrance to the cavern. "Turn around, then. And hold the torch up high. I'll get it as quick as I can and redress, then we can take it out into the sun and examine it properly."
He released her with a nod and turned his back to her, his shoulders visibly relaxing. When she was sure he wasn't looking, she quickly shed the rest of her clothes and stepped into the water, surprised at how hot it is.
"You swam in this, Jon?" She asked, feeling the dropoff and easily tread water, testing her strength. It had been years since she swam, but she had gotten considerably stronger since then. "I'm surprised your cold, northern blood could stand the heat."
"There are hot springs in the godswood at Winterfell." He answered as she swam across the pool. "This isn't all that much warmer than there, I think. Although my men said it felt hotter than boiling water. Some said even if they could swim, they wouldn't risk getting scalded."
She chuckled at that. The water felt as hot as she liked her baths, which likely would scald the average person. It seemed Jon Snow definitely had some Valyrian blood within him if he could stand the heat. It would make sense as to why Drogon allowed him to pet him.
She put her musings aside as she reached the ledge and pulled herself onto it to sit right next to the trunk. She guessed it was about two feet tall and two feet wide, and about just as deep, and it sat upon a small wooden boat of sorts, carved out of a single piece of wood. She easily slid it into the water, glad that it was floating alright, and gently eased herself back in, guiding the trunk in front of her. When she reached the other side, she got out and pulled it up onto the bank and used her smallclothes to dry off, then pulled the rest of her clothes on, opting to leave the wet garment off.
"You can turn around now." Daenerys mused, having seen Jon tense as she climbed out of the water. She had to give him credit, for as tense as he was, he never once peeked. He turned and handed her the torch, then picked up the trunk, grunting a little at the unexpected weight of it, then motioned for her to go.
Once back out in the sunlight and a little bit away from the mouth of the cave he set the trunk down. "Well, would you like the honors? It doesn't look like there's a lock or anything on it."
Daenerys studied the trunk, and indeed, there was no lock- just a simple latch. Excitedly, she lifted the latch and the top of the trunk, revealing threadbare cloth inside, covering something up. Her heart pounded in her ears as she ever so gently lifted the fabric, afraid it may fall to pieces within her grasp and gasped as she realized what was inside.