Hello everybody! Is everybody still sane out there? Joking aside I hope everyone is staying safe during this crisis.

Since my classes have turned online, procrastination has hit full force. So behold the new chapter. Thank you all so much for reading, it truly makes my day reading yall's comments.

He can't breathe.

His breath has left him just at the sight of her.

He can't speak or even attempt to take a single step towards her even as their evergrowing titles are exchanged.

She is real and she is there right before his eyes.

Ghost has no reservations, no hesitations and simply trots towards Dany, reminding him of how the once pup did just that across the Narrow Sea the first time he laid eyes on her.

Her guards instantly move to protect their Queen but with a simple flick of her wrist they stand down.

She stands from her throne and a bright smile graces her features as she caresses the beast before her, laughing at the licks she receives and breaking her queenly persona.

"Did you remember me, my sweet boy," she nearly coos. "You're still my little pup."

Ghost's tail wags and soft whines of happiness come out of the direwolf.

He glances behind him and his companions have the same look on their faces as they did down at the beach. They had all heard of or seen the direwolf be the ferocious beast of legend on the battlefield. They had seen how the world refused anyone from getting too close to him or his master. Now in front of them, the mighty sigil of House Stark has become nothing more than a pup at the hand of the Queen.

He turns to face her again and finds her standing and looking directly at him.

Could it be possible she grew even more beautiful?

A timid smile forms on her face as does a tinge of fear.

And that does him in.

Not caring how desperate he may look or how unkinglike it may be, but he surges towards her and enfolds her in his arms, crushing her into his chest.

He breathes her in, her scent so familiar, warm and homely.

It takes but a second for her arms to wrap around him below the cloak he wears grasping onto his armor. He could spend the rest of his life like this but he needs to see her to truly take her in. He pulls away, just enough to admire her face. His eyes blur and he raises her hand to graze her face. Violet eyes full of love and yearning converge with his own. His lips demand to descend to meet with her own especially when hers part slightly, but he resists. Instead, he says the words he's dreamt if saying to her again since he left her side years ago.

"I love you," he reaffirms to her.

She doesn't say the words back, there is no need. Her eyes speak the truth and he knows she feels the same. She slightly turns her head to place a kiss against his palm and he feels a familiar surge course through him.

"We have a lot to talk about," she answers, her voice trembling with emotion. The words cause self-doubt to creep upon him, fear that his decisions may have led to some unwanted results. But her eyes immediately extinguish those fears and all he can do is nod in response.

A throat clearing reminds him that they're not alone, that the reunion that he wants, that he desires would not be proper.

He lets her go but intertwines their fingers, holding her hand and placing the kiss he wishes to bestow on her lips on the back of it. He turns and sees another familiar face approach them. He is slightly older, his age becoming more apparent but now instead of the armor of the Royal Guard, he instead wears a pin, marking him Hand of the Queen.

"Your Grace," the older man, says genuflecting with a grin on his face.

"Rise Ser Barristan," he announces and hears a few gasps from the Northerners. "I thank you for taking care of my family."

"It was my honor to serve the Queen and the Rightful King, your Grace," Barristan answers proudly.

Another man wearing Golden armor also steps forward, genuflecting before rising.

"My King, the Golden Company is still under your command," the leader of the Golden Company pledges.

"Thank you, Harry," he answers with a nod.

Finally, he turns towards his advisors with his wife's arm looped through his.

"My Lords and Lady, I'd like to introduce my wife and Queen, Daenerys Targaryen," he announces to them.

They all seem confused as to how to address his Queen and all they do is nod their heads. His anger rises. They should bow to her, show more respect and he almost demands it of them. However, a calming hand stops him. He looks at Dany and a tight smile is on her face.

"My Lords, my Lady, welcome to Dragonstone. During our time in Essos, my husband would tell me of the pride and loyalty of the people of the North. It seems that my husband has earned your loyalty and respect. I hope that I too will soon prove myself to you all and earn it in my own right," she says regally.

The lords take a moment to look at each other, trying to communicate without speaking. The first to step forward, once again ignoring her elders, is Lyanna Mormont.

"Lord Stark has named you his Queen. The man I named my King has also named you his Queen. He has preached that we are not to judge children with the sins of their fathers and I for one agree with him," she turns to look at the other Lords. "You all may make your own decisions but I for one am going to trust my King and my liege Lord," she turns back around and bends the knee to Daenerys. "Queen Daenerys, you have my loyalty. But my respect and trust I can not offer yet."

"And I won't demand it of you," Daenerys answers without missing a beat. "As I said, I will work to earn it and hope to deserve it."

The young Lady of Bear Island stands back up and Daenerys gestures towards Missandei who steps towards them.

"Missandei please escort our guests to their rooms. My husband and I have a lot to talk about," she orders.

There is no hesitation, no arguments, no challenging, in other words, the complete opposite of when he ordered something in Winterfell. He's a bit jealous of the command she holds but that is overwhelmed completely by his pride for her. Everyone moves to leave them alone, even Ghost follows Rickon out of the room.

As soon as the final door shuts, his apology sits upon his lips ready to be uttered. But before he can verbalize it, her lips crash against his own. Instinctively he pulls her closer against his body moaning in pleasure and bliss.

He's missed this. He almost lost the opportunity to have this, to have her in his arms again. He kisses her harder at this thought and he hears her moan in response.

His fingers itch to start pulling on her dress, especially when her hands begin traveling down his body. She starts pushing him back and they nearly trip upon the steps, but never once do they break their kiss. Eventually, they reach her planned destination and she slightly shoves him onto the dragon glass throne.

He feels a surge of something, of power, of magic as he sits upon the throne his father had once sat on. His wife appears to give him a moment, probably having felt the same the first time she sat here.

But it's only a moment.

The next he watches as she begins to undo the riding breeches hidden beneath her dress. He follows suit, lifting himself just enough to lower his own. She straddles his lap rocking on him once, twice until she finally sinks onto him.

They moan simultaneously, but neither moves.

His hands clench onto her hips as he tries to not cum like a green boy. It's been so long, his memories had not done this any justice. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder, his breath shuttering as he tries to calm himself. The tie on his hair is undone and he feels her soft fingers tug on his hair until he's looking at her. He remembers her saying to him that love comes in through the eyes.

And now all he can see in her beautiful violet eyes is love.

They move in sync both taking and giving, remembering and learning. Neither wanting it to end but both yearning for their peak. They don't last long, their time away making it impossible to last. Between their settling breaths, they stay together, connected as one, gently kissing each other.

"Dany, my Dany," he moans against her lips.

A sob leaves her mouth and he stops at the feel of tears against his cheeks, not only his own but hers as well. He pulls away, both of them breathless but unwilling to let each other go. He wipes her tears hating to see them.

"My love," he whispers.

"My blood," she whispers backs, her hand wiping his tears.

"I'm sorry Dany. I'm so sorry," he says, feeling that it's nowhere near enough.

"No. No apologizing," she stops him. "You're here now. You're here with me. You're here with us."

Us.

It hadn't only been her he had abandoned. It hadn't only been his brother that she had left under her care.

It had also been their child.

His hands travel to where he remembered their child growing years ago. He had never gotten the opportunity to see it swell or to feel his child grow and move within. He had missed the birth, the first cries, the first steps, the first words. He knew their child had lived, regardless of what he told the Northern Lords because Bran had told him. But he still knew little to nothing more.

"Dany," his voice shaking. "Wh… what did we have?"

A smile forms on her face, as if the simple mention of their child brightens her day even more. And it most likely does.

"We have a son, my love," she answers.

A son. He has a son.

He kisses her again, crying in joy at the fact that this woman, his love, his queen has born him a son. An heir. A son he will help raise to become a man, to become a king.

"What's his name?" he asks.

She smiles again, looking to be lost in memory before returning to the present.

"You know that my education, even about our own family was lacking before meeting you. But one of the stories that stood out to me the most was about King Jaehaerys and Good Queen Alysanne. How they had been the first royals to travel North and how beloved they were," she starts. "I also remembered a young man, his namesake, who had been raised a bastard but grew to become an honorable King, who rescued a princess and helped regain what was rightfully theirs. So, I named our son after him in hopes that he may be as beloved as our ancestor was and as his father," she explains.

Jaehaerys. His son's name was Jaehaerys. She named their son after him.

He pulls her into a kiss needing to show how much this means to him.

"I want to meet him, Dany," he implores, his voice almost desperate.

She nods, giving him a final kiss before standing up.

They straighten themselves up, not wanting to make it obvious what they had done in the throne room. Outside, a pair of Unsullied are keeping guard not saying a word of what they may or may not have heard.

They walk together, arms interlocked through the dark hallways of Dragonstone. To others it may look menacing or daunting, however to him it feels welcoming. And the more time he spends in this castle the more like the home he believes it will become.

They stop in front of a door and all the cheerfulness of before abandons her features.

"Before we walk in… I need you to know something," she starts, seeming to be struggling. "Letting you go… it was one of the hardest things to do," she admits, and he can't help but squeeze her hand. "The only thing that kept me going," she continues, not letting the sadness of her loss overwhelm her, "was knowing that you loved me and the knowledge that you had left part of you with me," she smiles.

"My original plan was to return to you as soon as I rescued my brothers but I couldn't. Bran needed my help and something told me that I needed to go beyond the Wall. I'm so sorry," he apologizes again.

"Rickon and Osha explained things to me when they arrived. I won't lie there was a time I was angry at your decision, especially as time went by," he grimaces at this. "But I finally came to understand that if there had been a way for you to return to us sooner, you would have," she says.

He can't say anything, her forgiveness and understanding leaving him speechless. Even as she pushes the door open and leads them into what he assumes is a nursery he can't speak.

A Dothraki woman is sitting in the middle of the room, appearing to be playing with someone who is blocked from his view by a table.

"Thank you for watching him," Daenerys says in Dothraki.

"You are welcome, Khalessi," she answers, giving a small bow before leaving the room.

He watches Daenerys' face brightens as she walks away towards the center of the room. He can't fully understand what she's sweetly saying in what he assumes is Valyrian but he hears a giggle coming from behind the table.

She bends down and suddenly in her arms is a four-year-old boy with his mother's silver hair and his grey eyes.

"This is your papa, my little one," she says to the little boy.

"Kepa?" the little boy asks.

"Kessa, issa jorrāelagon. Ziry emagon māzigon arlī naejot īlva," she answers in Valyrian. (Yes, my love. He has come back to us)

He didn't know how to react to what was before him. The image was everything he has ever wanted but never dreamed of having. He finally had a family.

"Jon," she calls to him and he draws his attention to her. "Do you want to hold him?"

All he can do is nod.

He walks towards them, nerves threatening to get the best of him. The boy shies away hiding his face in his mother's shoulder and he hesitates. Dany whispers something in their son's ear and the boy once again turns to look at him.

He takes a deep breath and takes the last few steps to be next to them. A bright smile forms on Jaehaerys's face as he looks into his eyes.

"You have the same eyes as me," he boy says with a giggle.

"Aye, I do," he answers.

This seems to ease the little boy, who reaches out towards him.

And for the first time in years as he holds his son in his arms, and his wife watches on with her arms wrapped around his waist, he once again feels whole.