Re: Gamer's Grimoire

by Reviewer543

Jon Snow lived his life. He lived to a ripe old age and then he died with only a few regrets. But upon meeting a supposed god, he's given a chance to right a few wrongs. What's in store for Jon when he goes back in time and finds his life is turned into something called a video game? Rewrite of my story Gamer's Grimoire. All credit goes to G.R.R. Martin, D&D, & any known others.

6. A Re-Union of Ice and Fire 2

A Re-Union of Ice and Fire Part 2. BTW shout out to 00-night-eyes-00 for the comment asking me to put the date/time. It'll mostly be the year of when it is occurring. For those not knowing the years I will put the corresponding season like I had with this one.

Alrighty! Next is the chapter summary which covers this and the previous chapter: Drakhan comes to Qarth during Daenerys's time there and Jon follows in hot pursuit. When Dany's dragons are stolen, and it is revealed that Drakhan is in the House of the Undying with them, Jon comes face-to-face with one of his biggest regrets and to make matters more complicated, Daenerys recognizes him! Presently trapped in the House of Undying, past and future collide as Daenerys slowly realizes there is more to Jon Snow than meets the eye... and a decision is made that will not only alter her path in life, but also the balance of power in the Game of Thrones!

Warning: Lemon or at least a Lime in this chapter!

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Year 299 AC (Season 2) Exact Timeframe: Mid/Late Year

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"How about neither? Dany, let's just go! It doesn't matter." Jon said gently tugging her hands. For Daenerys, she would have agreed with him, but... the Iron Throne was her's... wasn't it? Daenerys stared at the throne of her family thinking over all those she'd seen take it. What would happen if she sat in it? Would it reject her like it had Petyr Baelish? She already knew the answer to that question: no. The saltwater and blood had made it rusted and red, the poison glistened and mingled with the roses that grew along the blades. What would it add to itself from her? Would it also take her blood? Or perhaps the fire in her veins? Would that flame purify it? Would it then give her a crown and let her live?

Jon was apparently worthy... at least more so than the others... however he did not want it.

She did. Drakhan had been right when he said she was raised to want it.

It was meant to be hers. She needed her questions and ambitions answered.

And she had to know now!

Daenerys took a step forward, but Jon's arms held her tight.

"Dany! Don't do it! Don't listen to him!"

"I have to know Jon!" She was not sure why she was yelling, but she needed to convey how much this meant to her, "All my life I've only known one goal: the Iron Throne. I need to know if I can claim it!"

"It's not just claiming it that's dangerous. It's living with it!" He frantically shouted back, pupils narrowed in fear, "Did you not see what happened to everyone else! It did not matter who they were. Any who sat on it were killed or outright destroyed. You may not be like anyone else, Dany, but you can still be destroyed like everyone else!"

Daenerys stared at him for a moment, contemplating his words. Jon had a point. She may be immune to fire, but she was still vulnerable to everything else that killed bigger and stronger men. Then she realized the answer: Jon. Jon could be by her side protecting her like her personal Queensguard or as a king-consort like she considered earlier. If anything happened he could save her in time.

"Come with me." She did not realize she whispered it until Jon's eyebrows raised in surprise. She hastily continued, voice growing in strength, "Come with me up there. You can protect me from what may happen. Rip me away from the throne should it try anything."

"What? Like I could with Walder Frey when it stabbed him in the throat? Or perhaps Tommen when it turned his body to paste? And that's not even accounting if it'll do to you what it's done to everyone else-"

"I trust you." She said bringing his tirade to a stop, his pretty mouth dropping in shock, "I need you to have faith in me now. That thing said we won't leave without sitting on the throne. So one of us has to. Besides..." She glanced over him then herself, "This spell of yours is protecting us from that... thing. It'll protect me too if you stick close."

"She is right, boy." The Shadow teased maliciously, "So long as you're touching her, I can't do a thing to either of you."

"I will not take your word for it, Drakhan. Deceit comes as naturally to you as breathing." The ghost cackled evilly while Daenerys tugged at Jon's hands.

"Let's just do this so we can leave. After I sit down, we'll deal with whatever happens, then we'll get my dragons and leave." She assured him. Jon stared at her for several long moments. His gaze snapped to the throne then her several times over until he nodded. Dany moved ahead with Jon following as he reluctantly, and begrudgingly, let her lead him up the steps to the throne. She was standing in front of it now, Jon's hand still grasped tightly in her's, surrounded by those who tried to have the throne only to fail. Their crowns, which had fallen to the foot of the chair, lay in broken pieces at her feet. Dany turned around to look into Jon's eyes. The fear and dread which had been building up in her breast was reflected in his grey orbs as she placed her other hand in his tight grip.

"Tell me straight away if you feel anything wrong. I'll yank you out of that chair quick as I can." He ordered. She fully intended to follow it as she nodded. Hands still gripping each other, heart hammering in her chest, and finally... her knees bent as she sat down on the throne until she pressed her back into it.

Her throne.

It was not comfortable at all yet she actually preferred it that way. It would not do without a reminder that she should not be comfortable as a queen. They waited for a time, her sitting there as he looked down at her, grey eyes terrified for her. She looked up at him, violet eyes afraid and hopeful at once. And then they both noticed it... the heat. It caressed her gently as usual. Jon's eyes went to his right having caught something and Dany followed them. She could see the waves and ripples in the air as the throne heated up. The blood and poison crusted before evaporating into the air. The roses with their thorns shriveled before burning away until finally the rust from the saltwater fell away revealing pristine steel gleaming in the light.

Daenerys sighed in relief. It made sense that it would be fire the throne would exude from her, the one thing that was integral to her being. The one thing she was immune to. That meant she was worthy of the throne. It meant it was her's. The fire of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, had purified it of the refuse that had attempted to lay claim to it. Soon enough, they heard voices calling out from nowhere.

MHYSA!

MOTHER OF DRAGONS!

KHALEESI OF THE GREAT GRASS SEA!

UNBURNT!

BREAKER OF CHAINS!

She couldn't stop the smile or the happy tears as she heard those titles in several languages she understood. When her eyes met Jon's, however, she found him not to be smiling. He was still firmly gripping her hands, eyes never wavering from her with a frown on his beautiful face. It confused her to say the least. Should he not be happy? They got it right! The throne was her's and then they could get her dragons and leave... unless...

Did Jon actually want the throne for himself?

As soon as that seed of doubt planted itself firmly in her chest, the cry of a massive beast roared and trumpeted through the air silencing the praising voices. Jon did not bat an eyelash away from her even as she herself looked for the beast. What had it been?

"Foreign Whore," A voice whispered out with a northern drawl. For an instant, she thought Jon had said that, only in the next she realized he was being silent. The only indication it wasn't him was his grip tightening a bit more on her fingers.

"Mother of Monsters," Another voice spoke out, this time a woman, one she did not recognize.

"Yer vosak. Yorak ma hakesoon yeri, Khaleesi Vosi." A male voice spoke in dothraki.

"Aegon the Conqueror with teats." This time Jon looked for that voice, eyes angry until he looked back at her.

"Burn them all." Another voice said. There were people screaming outside as they noticed green lights-flames-shine through the windows while the ground shook.

"Burn Them All!" The voice repeated angrily. Dany registered the quakes in the ground as explosions while Jon's hands were nearly crushing her own now.

"BURN THEM ALL!" The voice shouted and the explosions as well as the screams came closer and the wall behind the throne cracked and began to crumble. The smell of something burning permeated the air.

"Dany?" Jon whispered, scared grey eyes still staring at her... wait, no... at her forehead? Dany's eyes widened as she tilted her head from side to side since her hands were still grasped in Jon's.

There was no weight.

No crown.

She wasn't given a crown.

Tears welled in her eyes as she realized that she had been found unworthy... then she felt pain she never experienced before in her entire life. This pain licked her back, legs, everything that was touching the throne. It dug into her very skin. Dany thought, in those maddening few seconds, that the throne had cut her as it usually did to those who weren't careful when sitting in it. It hurt so badly that she could not even scream. Suddenly, she felt Jon's strong hands yank her from the godsforsaken seat, then her toes were dragging along the stairs before stopping on cool flat stone. Yet despite being away from the throne the pain had only dulled. Enough so that she could scream and writhe in agony as Jon's hands touched her bare back as the two collapsed to the floor.

"Gods, Dany!" Jon cursed as she felt his hands ghost over her entire backside. She barely noticed someone laughing as whatever Jon was doing soothed the pain away steadily until it was fully gone. Now that the pain was not driving her insane, Dany could think clearly again as she wondered just what the throne did to her. Jon's observational whisper shocked her to her core, "It burned you."

"What a riot! Hahaha!" The Shadow howled uproariously, "The dragon girl burned by flames! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Will you shut the fuck up already!?" Jon roared at the unseen specter.

"Oh, come now, boy! How can you not find it funny? I mean think about it: all that hope and praise, no immediate consequences. It just looks like she is the one true queen and then all of a sudden? Foosh! Fire and Flame! In the end, she is greater and lesser than all the rest!"

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" Jon howled at the room as he cradled her, his head tucked against her's. Dany meanwhile started to sob once again at the monster's last words: greater and lesser. She had purged the throne of the ilk that clung to it only for her own fire to turn on her. She had not been a queen... she had been a pawn. Something to use.

The throne was not her's. It had never been her's. She started sobbing uncontrollably before wailing as the realization dawned on her. She wasn't meant to be queen of Westeros. She wasn't meant to reclaim the Iron Throne for her family. That meant... the man who was hugging her and lifting her into his arms was the king.

The Iron Throne belonged to Jon Snow.

It was his for whatever reason.

Not her's.

Her heart broke as she realized she had nothing to fight for anymore.

She had dragons, but no purpose. Her dreams and ambitions were crushed in an instant.

"That's it! We're leaving this place." Jon spoke as he stood up with her still cradled in his arms in a bridal carry. Her wails turned back to sobs as she wiped enough of her tears away to see Jon's face was set in an angry yet determined frown. He... wasn't going after the throne?

"Not so fast, boy. You still need to-"

"What part of 'shut the fuck up' do you not understand?" He spat venomously, "I have no wish or need for that stupid chair. You goading me into taking it only makes me want to destroy it." Jon cut the shadow off as he strode toward the doors still carrying Dany in his arms, her sobs stifled to shocked whimpers. She could not believe what he had just said. The Iron Throne was the ultimate power in the Seven Kingdoms was it not? Who could not desire it? The power it had? To call it a stupid chair was so... erroneous that she briefly wondered if Jon was mad let alone to speak of destroying it... then Dany felt something slot into place.

Maybe that's why he was worthy of it.

Everyone else wanted it, and those that took it died, or in her case... nearly died.

Jon did not desire it, and thus... it might truly be his.

"Oh, but you do need it, don't you, boy?" Drakhan practically purred. Jon stopped at that sentence as the heat in the room seemed to drop suddenly. The winds outside began to whistle against the glass windows. The green flames whose insidious light gleamed through the glass vanished as some sort of white overtook it, "After all, you know what's coming... or rather who is coming."

Dany wondered what the evil warlock meant. Still sniffling, she looked to Jon's face for an answer only to freeze at seeing his terrified expression. The whistling wind began to become stronger turning into a roar until...

KRASH!

The glass windows shattered and the walls behind the throne fell apart opening the room to the storm bearing down on them. The heat completely left the room as bits of ice fluttered through. Snow she belatedly realized with a shout. Then they could hear something, no, thousands of somethings snarling outside the door. The room felt even colder now and Dany began to shiver in not just the sudden drop in temperature, but in fear as it sounded like thousands of snarling rabid animals had appeared outside the ingress and were clawing and smashing against the door. Jon, whose breathing had steadily grown to horrified panting, looked down at her meeting her eyes.

"What is that?" She asked, almost squeaking. Instead of answering, Jon abruptly turned on his heel to stride over to the Iron Throne which was red hot and still emitting enough heat to match several hearths.

"You changed your mind fast, boy. Oh, I suppose I cannot blame you. Who can resist such power-" The shadow silenced itself when Jon adjusted his walk to the left, just ahead of the throne. The warmth from the throne came over her like a warm blanket as the cold winds swept through the room. He placed her down on the steps near the throne before he suddenly took out an amulet from... somewhere.

"Here, Dany." He placed the amulet around her neck, "This should protect you for a few minutes while I deal with what's coming. Do not take it off."

"What's coming? What is that out there?" She questioned, nodding towards the doors that were shaking and shuttering inwards as the chorus of snarls and scratches pounded against them.

"Something I need to take care of. Don't worry, we'll be fine." Jon then kissed her on her forward making her cheeks flush at the contact. He stood up and walked towards the center of the room, drawing out the sword he'd been carrying on his hip. He gripped it with both hands, positioned just a bit away from him, blade pointed straight up with his feet set apart in a ready stance.

"Ah, I see." Drakhan's voice came out right next to her ear. Dany shrieked and jumped away to see the dark specter right next to her, staring intently at her neck, "I knew he had a reason he would leave you so readily." It turned towards Jon who looked ready to leap at the creature with another sword in his left hand, this one much smaller, "You prepared an amulet of protection meant to stave off dark spirits, curses, and even weapons. It must have a certain amount of time that it can be used until the magic runs out and must be filled back up. I wondered why you did not break out of my hold sooner if you could." Red eyes turned towards her, "You needed to create and maintain physical contact with her in order to cast the spell on both of you."

"If I hadn't, you would have turned her against me in some way." Jon replied. Before the shadow could respond, Jon threw the smaller sword which struck the creature dead center of its stomach. All three stared at the blade impaling the monster. The demon grabbed the sword, listing from side to side, hissing in what appeared to be pain until it fell to its knees, sitting on its legs before stilling entirely.

"I-Is it-?" Dany questioned hopefully. She got a little closer to the hopefully dead monster even though the snarling outside became much worse as the door banged harder. Once she was a foot from it, the shadow moved, hot coals glaring into her terrified violet eyes.

"No!" It cried out almost merrily, standing tall despite the blade sticking through its gut, "Nice try." Without any trouble at all, it removed the blade from its stomach with ease before promptly stabbing the blade, now dark with black blood, into the hand-rest of the Iron Throne. "Well played, boy. Now... you'd best pay attention." The shadow nodded towards the doors which were promptly burst open as a group of... were those corpses!? Snarling, decrepit, and rotting, they were indeed walking corpses with blue eyes who charged Jon with a ferocity Dany had never seen in even the most animalistic and reckless dothraki warriors that had been part of Drogo's khalasar.

To her further surprise, flames erupted around Jon's sword, growing and swirling around it as the dead charged at him. As soon as the first one was within striking distance Jon swung his blade cutting the walking corpse in two. The other corpses behind the first were not even a threat to Jon as they were reduced to ash when an arc of flames shot from Jon's blade. The arc flowed over and around the corpses, lighting them aflame till it crashed just in front of the door providing a flaming barrier that burned any who tried to enter.

However, there were still dead-men who had not been struck by the attack, having scattered around the room. They charged at Jon who immediately began cutting through them with ease. One approached his right, he cut it down with one slash. Another attempted to jump him from behind, Jon stabbed without looking, impaling the creature in the middle of its exposed ribcage. Two more charged at his left, he stuck his left hand out and flame erupted from it to engulf the two dead-men. One more charged straight at Jon and he severed it by the shoulder and ribcage. In one moment he was surrounded by all the rest who charged at him together. In response, Jon took his sword in both hands and spun around swinging it quickly, taking them all out. Their bones rattled as they all fell to the floor.

Meanwhile, the flames at the door began to flicker until a black booted foot stepped through it. The flames doused as if water had been poured on them revealing what looked like a man in black armor. Only... this man was emaciated and hairless. His skin was blue, shriveled, with every move he made sounding like ice cracking against itself. He had a crown of what looked like ice frozen to his blue skinned head. And... he had the bluest eyes Dany had seen only once... in her nightmares. Even though he bore a muted, near expressionless face, Dany felt that this... creature wanted to kill her and Jon.

Her feelings were proven right when it met her eyes briefly before it moved to Jon. When their eyes met, the blue king tilted its head in interest before it took a few steps further into the room. It was followed by several others like him. All of them wore the same armor, the same shriveled icy skin, the same blue eyes. The difference between them and the first was that the rest all had white hair, but no crown of ice. The blue-eyed king stopped partway to Jon and stood there staring at him. Then the others came towards him who began fighting them. Their weapons were like crystals and every time their blades clashed against Jon's sword, they cried out with a high keening sound.

This fight went on for a couple moments with Jon taking out most of them with strikes to their chests and necks. To her surprise the creatures shattered instantly into ice at the moment of death. Jon had to create distance between himself and a couple by promptly sticking his hand out towards them. Instead of flames, however, some transparent blue force pushed them away into the walls. When they got back up and resumed their attack, they had been the only ones left until Jon too made quick work of them.

"He's grown stronger, I'll give him that," Drakhan muttered darkly beside her as they watched Jon and the blue-eyed king face off. The Ice King took the crystal blade off of his back before relaxing into a loose stance. The fighter stared at each other, eyeing one another, looking for openings. Then Jon moved, not by attacking with his sword, but with the same magic he used to push the other ones away. The near-invisible force struck the Ice King full force, but to her shock and amazement, he merely stood his ground only being pushed back by a few feet, the Shadow scoffed, "but he's still not strong enough for Old Blue-Eyes."

As Jon continued to magically push his opponent, he ran forward and attacked with his sword, letting go of the spell at the last second. His assault lasted for a tense moment as slash after slash, move and maneuver was thrown at the Ice King who merely blocked or deflected. To Dany, it looked like Jon had him on the defensive. Then the Ice King moved. His sword twirled with a deadly grace that surpassed any fighter Dany had ever seen. Jon was instantly on the defense, giving ground and kept moving, not staying in the same place for more than a few seconds.

In one particular clash, the Ice King swung his blade with both hands, and Jon blocked with his magical push. Jon was keeping the push going, but this time the Ice King did not budge back. The two strained against one another until Jon leapt back, dropping the spell and allowing the Ice King's momentum to carry him forward with little control. With his left hand Jon looked to grab something before pulling it towards him. In that same instance, the Ice King's foot slipped on nothing. Dany just barely noticed the transparent blue sheen on the king's boot when Jon attempted to stab him. His blade only dug into stone as the king somehow lifted himself off the ground, span in midair before promptly landing on both feet. In the next instant, he leapt at Jon with such force that the stone floor he'd been standing at cratered with cracks from his launch. Jon used his push spell with both hands, slowing his frozen adversary enough that he could raise his blade to block the attack only for him to be disarmed by the swing of the frozen sword. As Jon's blade clattered to the ground the Ice King allowed the momentum of his swing to carry him this time. As he faced away from Jon, he followed it with a swift blind kick which scored Jon right in the gut.

Dany had not seen Jon's face, but she easily imagined his pained expression as the breathless wheeze he made echoed around them. Jon's feet left the ground with that wheeze as the sheer force from that attack carried him through the air for several feet before landing hard on the ground. But he did not stop there. He tumbled, uncontrolled... up the steps to the Iron Throne. His head almost cracked against the foot of it if not for his back catching the stone instead. Jon spluttered and coughed as he slowly rose to his feet. That was more than enough time for the Ice King to cross the distance between them, grab Jon by the throat, lifting him off the ground before slamming him into the throne hard.

Dany tried to shout his name only-

"Time's up." Drakhan cackled lightly as she felt every muscle in her body go stiff. She once again a prisoner in her own body, "Now let's see what it does to him, hmm? Do you think it'll freeze him to death? You know... in keeping with the whole 'forces of nature' theme it has going on?"

Even if Dany had wanted to answer his question, she would not have been able to as suddenly Jon began to scream. He screamed even as the Ice King let go of him and stepped back until it was well away from Jon and the throne. Jon kept screaming even as his back arched off of it. She could just barely see him crying from the pain, his tears falling and turning to steam from touching the throne. She could barely see him at all through her own tears as he screamed like someone was flaying him alive slowly. His voice rose from the deep burr that she found soothing to a sharp high pitch that foretold just how much pain he was in.

"Oh yes, that is beautiful music. You are getting exactly as you deserve you insignificant half-breed brat. Scream until your throat is bloody. It's the only thing you can do until it decides to kill you." The monster beside her crooned in ecstasy. Dany could honestly say she'd never been more frightened or disgusted by the company she kept right now. This thing, whatever it was, was the most vilest creature in existence. It had to be. Then she heard voices.

"I'm not your mother, bastard."

"He is our half-brother. Not our brother."

"You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're a bastard."

"He's my baseborn son."

"The Bastard of Winterfell."

Dany realized partway through that what she was hearing were similar things that had been said about herself during her time on the throne, yet it was more than that. It was Jon's pain she was hearing and with that realization came another: soon the throne was going to kill him. Why? Why hadn't she listened to him when she had the chance? If she had, right now she would be outside with her dragons and he wouldn't be in agony.

"You traitor's bastard."

"The bastard son of a traitor?"

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

"I should have thrown you-from the top of the Wall, boy!"

"He's half-wildling himself."

"For the Watch."

"You'll be fighting their battles forever."

"Winterfell is mine, bastard. Come and see."

"You'd have a claim to the Iron Throne."

"They don't get to choose."

She only recognized the last voice as her own speaking the final two sentences. Dany knew when she said the last one, but she can't recall ever saying the other one, especially not to his face. Why would those words hurt him?

"Finally, we come to the crescendo. It's going to end him at long last. All without a crown too! I hope it is spectacular!" The black soul crooned joyfully like a child waiting for a treat, "Come on, come on! Spear him! Shear him! Burn him! Or freeze him! It does not matter... just end him already!"

Panic filled her at the vile words. They spurned her to action, but the only action Dany had was something she had never done before: pray.

'Please!' Dany was not sure who was listening, but she made the plea anyway with her eyes closed, tears glistening down her cheeks, 'Please, do not take him away! If he must be king then let him be king! Just please stop hurting him and let him go! He doesn't deserve this!' Slowly... oh so slowly, Jon's screams began to lose their volume, though a groaning noise came to replace it, "Oh, is his voice giving out already? That's no fu-wait..." Dany opened her eyes to a sight she was most relieved to see.

Jon, eyes red from crying, had stopped screaming and was only panting now with a crown on his head. The crown was crested with a three-headed wolf snarling, but that was not the only difference. His jerkin changed to that of a dark breastplate and a gorget. The gorget was inscribed with the heads of two wolves snarling at each other while the chest plate had a red three-headed dragon of House Targaryen proudly adorned on it with a dark leather gambeson over black and red clothes. All in all, Jon looked like a true Targaryen King ready for war.

She found that she loved it.

"So the throne made its choice then? Oh well, no accounting for taste. Still, Old Blue-Eyes will-" There was a caw from one of the windows and Dany was able to see the three-eyed raven, Bran, flutter down before hovering in the air. The Ice King who had been staring at Jon finally looked away towards the raven with rapt attention, "Oh please... let's just get rid of him already," He made a move to do something only for him to make another confused, "Huh?"

Her confusion matched the monster's until she noticed more show up out of the darkness: the wolves named Sansa, Arya, and Rickon, who all moved to Jon's side. Suddenly, they turned from wolves into humans.

Sansa was among one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen. A bit taller than Jon with a curtain of auburn hair and blue eyes, she was clad in a pale bluish-grey gown patterned with large red leaves that extended down draping bells of the gown's sleeves. The dress was complimented with a delicate metal filigree on the bodice made to appear as twisting branches, shrouded by a tufted black cloak that draped down the left side of the gown. If Sansa was meant to be a Lady she instead exuded the presence of a Queen as she stared down the Ice King at Jon's side.

Arya Stark was almost the exact opposite of her sister. She bore a resemblance to Jon the same way Daenerys herself had to her brother, Viserys. Clad in riding leathers, a tunic and a half cloak, with a sword on her hip, Arya looked every bit a warrior Jon was. She was a short young woman and moved with the grace Dany had seen only with Bravos who walked the streets of Braavos. The girl's grey eyes bore coldly into the Ice King who was still looking at the raven, Bran.

Rickon was a bit taller than Arya, with a wild mane of flaming red hair more copper than auburn with grey-blue eyes. Unlike his sisters who sported professional, if unorthodox clothes, the young man was clad in furs looking less a noble and more a wild man. He was glaring angrily at their enemy while bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to fight.

Then even more people came out of the shadows: the women Jon had persuaded to walk away from the throne, now clad in the garbs of their houses, several others including a dwarf, a fat boy, a plump bald man, an older man with a grey beard, a young man with black hair and blue eyes with a warhammer, a big burly red-haired wild-looking man with bluer eyes than Sansa along with a red haired woman in furs wielding a bow stood beside a beautiful blonde woman with a spear garbed the same. Several others including a red priest and priestess and many more who stood beside or behind Jon.

All of them supporting him.

Supporting their King.

The three-eyed raven finally flew to Jon's side and turned into a young man who looked similar to Rickon only he looked a bit less emotional than the younger man. The Ice King followed the bird and only then seemed to realize the forces arrayed against him.

The screech she heard earlier when she sat on the throne sounded throughout the room before something massive flew up to the destroyed wall behind the throne. A great big beast, the dragon for that's what it was, was larger than Dany ever dreamed of. It was huge with dark scales and fangs. She at first thought she was looking at a fully grown Drogon since it bore a remarkable resemblance to her child save for one detail. Instead of red eyes that reminded her of hot coals or embers, they were a shade of violet she'd only seen on her brother.

Jon suddenly rose from his throne, revealing a black cloak with the red three-headed dragon of House Targaryen and the white wolf embroidered back-to-back on it. He ripped the first sword out of the armrest before throwing the still black blade into the Ice King's shoulder who screeched in pain but stood his ground, gripping the wound. They glared at one another for a few seconds until Jon raised his hand towards the sword he'd fought with earlier. As if called by some unseen force, the blade flew into his hand with Jon taking a single step.

"You are a Stark. You may not have my name, but you have my blood." An older man's voice spoke out.

"He is the Prince that was Promised." Both the red priest and priestess said together. Jon took another step.

"He is the commander we turned to when the night was darkest." The round young man said. One more step and Jon was off the dais.

"He is my King from this day until his last day!" A young girl's voice spoke out proudly.

"He is the White Wolf." All the Starks save Bran spoke out. Jon was now only a few feet from the Ice King.

"He risked his life for his people, he took a knife in the heart for his people, he gave his own life for his people." The white bearded man said in an unfamiliar accent. Jon was in front of his enemy now, one king against another, sword bright with flame raised high.

"You've got the North in you - the real North." The big burly red haired man said with pride. The Ice King raised his sword of frost with one hand in an attempt to block.

"He is the Heir to the Iron Throne." Bran proclaimed with a soft smile. The words did not sting as she thought they would. Jon swung down without a shout, eyes filled with a resolve of steel.

"We are going to destroy the Night King and his army... and we'll do it together." Her own voice sounded out as the ice blade instantly shattered against the white-flamed sword, not even slowing it down.

"From my blood... come the Prince that was Promised... and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire." A final voice, a young woman's, spoke out while a King of Winter and Death fell to the King of Ice and Fire. With the... Night King's... fall the icy winds abruptly stopped and the warmth steadily returned to the room.

Dany's elation at seeing Jon win was brought down as the Shadow growled and hissed, "If you want something done right you need to do it yourself. It seems I cannot rely on anyone-"

"Enough." Jon murmured, cutting off the Shadow before he slashed toward them. An arc of light was released from his blade and rocketed to the shade binding her. The strike met the demon head on causing the monster to scream in agony until it disappeared, "I'm sick of listening to your poison."

Dany felt her body move according to her will. She immediately ran over to Jon looking him over, "Are you alright?"

"I should be the one asking you that." Jon replied, reaching for her with one hand. As soon as it found her face the light enveloped both of them again briefly before going out entirely. Jon let out an audible sigh of relief while matching it with a visible sag as he leaned on his sword for support, "He's gone now... you're safe."

"I am." She agreed with her hands coming up to steady him. Jon looked so tired, "I ask again: are you alright?"

"Aye, I will be." Jon muttered, eyes heavy, "Just need to let the pain ebb away."

Dany flinched at the words as she looked him over for any wounds. To her surprise there were none. Not a single mark on him nor rip in his clothes. No indication of what the throne did to make him scream so loudly and painfully. She knew in her heart that he had not faked it in any way so what exactly had it done to him? Taking a step away from her he sheathed his sword, for the first time she noticed the pommel was a white wolf's head. She looked back to meet Jon's eyes which widened in surprise.

"Oh! Umm." Jon said, as he averted his eyes from her, even as he unstrapped the cloak from his back, and presented it to her with a strangled "Here."

She was confused as to why he was presenting her with his cloak until she felt a very cold breeze make its way up her bare back and legs as well as her partially revealed backside. Daenerys was instantly reminded that the throne had been burning hot, and as such, burned her clothes. Dany was not a stranger to public nudity as Drogo had taken her under the sky in front of the Khalasar more than once yet being even partially nude in front of Jon Snow made her cheeks, her whole face and ears actually, flush in supreme embarrassment. She snatched the cloak and wrapped it around herself, taking comfort in the residual warmth of its owner.

"Thank you." She whispered, face still hot.

"I like your crown by the way. The three-headed dragon looks good." Jon complimented, obviously trying to move away from the topic for which she was grateful for yet it served to confuse her all the more. She had not been given a crown. Upon saying such and feeling for it only to find none, Jon gave his reply, "You do have one. It showed just before you started screaming. It might be because this place is largely an illusion, or maybe there's meant to be some symbolism to it. I don't know. Do I have one? I honestly can't tell."

"You do." She whispered trying to process it. She had a crown, but she did not feel it. It was in the shape of her House, or her dragons. A large happy smile pulled at her lips, "Your's looks quite nice too. I like it, the three-headed wolf."

"A three-headed direwolf, eh?" Jon raised an eyebrow, then glancing away scoffing slightly, "Makes perfect sense."

Before she could question him on his words, and more on just who he was with everything she'd heard today, Daenerys was cut off by the groaning of the throne which it had been steadily doing since it gave Jon his crown. As they turned towards it she found that some of those who had stood behind Jon were gone now save for those who spoke including Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, Margaery, Arianne, Myrcella, the burly redheaded man and the two women in furs, the dwarf, the bald round man, the younger round man, and the older man with a white beard.

"Why is it making that noise?" She questioned, grabbing his arm as if it was the most natural thing to do. Jon did not answer immediately. He just merely stared at the throne still glowing red hot and moaning and groaning as if in pain.

"The only explanation I have is that the Throne, whether through Drakhan's influence or some rule of symbolism, or something in-between; it took... our strength, whatever drives us to reach for it and in exchange it gives us a crown and the power that comes with it... then that power is turned on us."

"Are you sure?" Dany asked, trying to follow Jon's logic.

"Not really," Jon admitted with a shrug, "But it does make sense: Balon Greyjoy is stubborn old fool who longs for the Ironborn to return to their Old Ways of raiding, raping, and pillaging; He has strength, but he will choke and drown in it. Walder Frey..." Jon groaned in disgust, "Is slime. He's not above murder and betrayal of any kind over any slight no matter how small. He's even willing to break Guest Right, which is a massive taboo in Westeros; you break that and you basically proclaim that you are never to be trusted again for anything, hence the blade to the neck before he fully sat on the throne. No one would abide by it. As for the rest? I think it's self-explanatory."

Dany blinked at that, silently making a mental note to remember it and have Jorah tell her more about Westeros even as she asked, "Then what about me?" Her grip tightened as she noticed Jon freeze up until he forcibly relaxed.

"You have fire in you, Daenerys." Him using her name instead of Dany stung her just a bit, but she said nothing, "That same fire gives you strength. It makes others follow you. But fire is dangerous. You may be immune to fire, but today you got a good taste of what it feels like to be burned." She shivered at the memory, "No pain compared to it, did it?" She nodded silently, "The Iron Throne... took that fire from you, and then turned it on you, and... I think... through you... on everyone else."

'Burn them all.' The voice had said. She never wanted to be that, ever.

"If you want my advice on the matter..." Jon offered. For a moment she stared at him, then nodded, "Do not pursue the Iron Throne. If there is anything that can be learned from all of this it is that all who pursue and attain it suffer horribly."

"But..." She began to say until she trailed off thinking, not knowing she was still speaking, "What about you?"

"What about me?" Jon asked.

"You didn't take it." She said, speaking at him more than to him, "You were thrown onto it, by that-that..."

"The Night King, yes." Jon spoke, bringing her eyes up to his at full attention, "I imagine that means the threat of the White Walkers will put me on the throne whether I wish it or not."

"White Walkers?" She inquired, curiosity piqued.

"I'll... tell you about them later. We still have to find your dragons." Jon reminded making her eyes go wide. Of course! How could she forget them!? The two separated as they began to walk over to the doors which had closed at some point. As they walked Dany realized another question that came to mind.

"What did it take from you?" At Jon's curious gaze, she elaborated, "The Iron Throne, you said it took something from each of us. What do you think it took from you?"

"...Pain." Jon stated after a few seconds of silence, tired eyes looking down yet not missing a single step, "When I was on the throne, I felt all the pain both physical and emotional I'd ever experienced." Her breath hitched, not being able to fathom that, "It might be why the throne is groaning. It took my pain in, yet I survived." They both glanced back to the still groaning throne, her eyes looking at it in a new light as he continued, "Now it has to live it."

Dany did not know what to think of that. Looking down, she wondered what kind of pain could drive Jon to make him scream like that. As if he was being tortured. She wanted to ask, to know in effort to possibly help him, but chose not to. It was not her business, no matter how much she wanted him... to be without pain.

"Jon?" A voice, a young man's, placid and calm as still water, prompted them to turn around. The people were still there, as well as the dragon, but it was Bran who spoke, "You still have something you must do."

"Oh?" Jon asked skeptically as she clutched his arm. Drakhan was not here anymore so why was it still going on? Why were they not free? Had this already been in motion and the demon had been merely influencing it? She looked up at Jon who was gazing around the room cautiously, possibly thinking the same things she was. It made sense considering Jon had obviously influenced it in a way that startled the shade.

Instead of immediately answering Jon, Bran looked up to the Violet-Eyed Dragon who was staring at the two of them... No... The Dragon was staring at Jon. The look it was giving him was filled with an emotion Dany could not name, but she knew... She somehow knew this dragon was looking at Jon with something more than mere affection and devotion. Then another voice spoke from across the hall... her own.

"This is our reason... We do it together... We break the Wheel together..." Dany could scarcely believe it. The words... her words... they had not come from her mouth, but rather from the dragon. Understanding filled her as she came to the conclusion: The Dragon represented her. Out of everyone who had stood with Jon against the Night King, she had been his biggest and most powerful supporter.

"Through Fire-" Bran spoke, bringing Dany's wide violets down to him, "and Ice, it can be broken." Jon separated from her and began to approach them.

"I think I understand." He called out. His trek diverted a bit as he bent down to pick one of the... White Walker's weapons that had been discarded in the earlier fight. It was less an ice spear and more a two-handed crystal sword with an extra long haft. Gripping it tightly, he continued over to the throne where he stood there and merely stared at it for a time.

"Our histories... they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone and saw a rich land ripe for the capture." An unknown man's voice spoke almost frantically. As if he were afraid. Whomever it was, they were talking about her ancestor. Jon's too she mentally reminded herself, "But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream." A dream? Was it like her's? She'd seen things before, and some of them have come to pass. Her gaze bore into Jon's back as she remembered that they do not happen exactly as foreseen. "And just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. 'Tis to begin with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant north." Jon noticeably stiffened at the words, "Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds, and whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living. When this great winter comes... all of Westeros must stand against it, and if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne, a king or queen strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark."

Dany wondered if what the man was speaking of had been about these... White Walkers that Jon had talked about earlier. The cold, the darkness, and the threat to living while the dead walked. All of it certainly seemed to match what was said. Jon had ceased to be still now, his body trembling in what appeared to be anger.

"All this time..." He gritted out, "All this time it had been for this? All the death, the betrayals, the murders, the lives lost, the suffering had all been for this?!" He hefted the crystal blade straight up.

"What are you doing!?" She called out in shock.

"Breaking the Wheel!" He shouted as he drove the blade down. The icy blade should have shattered against the red hot blades of the Iron Throne, but they did not. Rather than break against the fiery metal, it cleaved the seat of power in two like a knife through butter. As the sword of frost split the throne asunder a shrill shriek screeched from the throne. It became louder and louder as the Iron Throne instantly turned from red hot back to cold steel down the middle until-

*CRACK*CRACK*CRACK*CRACK*

It shattered into a million pieces like glass. The Iron Throne... forged by Balerion the Black Dread's flames from which her family ruled Westeros for 300 years... had been completely destroyed.

She could say nothing as a crown appeared on every single person in the room beside Jon despite the crown still on his head. She still couldn't not say anything as the Dragon which represented her roared out, shaking the room around her. The Dragon's roar was not one of rage, or pain, or sadness. In fact it was not negative in the slightest. The roar was one of unmistakable triumph and there were more roars joining in. It became so loud Dany was forced to close her eyes and cover her ears until it eventually died down.

When she opened her eyes once more to see they were in a much smaller room. Jon's outfit had gone back to the one he'd been wearing when they found him at the entrance to the tower. His hands were bereft of the crystal ice sword he'd used to destroy the throne. She looked down to find herself back in the dress Xaro Xhoan Daxos had gifted her. If she were being honest with herself, she was disappointed. She liked the outfit she was wearing in the vision... she missed having Jon's cloak around her shoulders though she would not admit it.

A series of familiar chirps and screeches came from behind her causing her to swirl around and be greeted by three excited dragonlings who promptly scurried to the end of the table they were standing on. She ran over petting their heads and scratching against their nubby horns with all the affection she could muster. They were back in her arms now. No one would ever take them away from her again.

"You..." A wizened voice whispered out from behind her. She twisted to see Jon Snow kneeling in front of the emaciated body of Pyat Pree. Fury burned through her veins as she was about to cry out for her dragons to burn the man alive before Jon stopped her.

"Do not bother, Your Grace." Jon counseled flatly, stilling her with the formal address. She immediately wished for him to keep calling her Dany, but still, he had no right to tell her how to see justice on the one who-"He's already dead." That stopped her completely, forcing her to study the warlock. Pyat Pree looked... shriveled as if he had aged a couple decades. He was holding his stomach which was bleeding profusely. That wound...

"It was you!" She snarled upon realizing the truth, "It was you in there torturing us! Torturing him!" She was so angry at the thought that it almost overrode everything else.

"DANY!" Jon roared bringing her rage down to a simmer for the moment, completely unused to him raising his voice towards her. His face softened back along with his voice, "It wasn't him." She made to protest, to explain, but Jon beat her to it, "Drakhan has the ability to possess people. Very few can withstand it let alone survive it."

"H-H-He's right, Daenerys Stormborn." The warlock coughed out, spitting up blood, "W-W-We w-were u-u-unable to do a-anything against him. O-Our magic w-as useless. The U-U-Undying were d-d-devoured! H-How?" The last question directed to Jon.

"He is darkness, he consumes all," Jon informed, a ball of light blinking into his hand making the dying warlock's eyes widen, "light burns him."

"T-That is m-magic n-none have h-h-had for c-centuries!" Was Jon's magic truly that rare? Jon merely nodded in response, "W-What i-is he? Y-You n-n-named him..."

"Drakhan of the Bloodstone Dynasty." Jon informed. Neither the name of the creature nor the dynasty rang any bells in Daenerys's memory, but she did notice the fear in Pyat Pree's eyes.

"T-T-The Shadow of the East!"

"He is." Jon nodded.

"T-T-Then w-with the Dead rising in the West... and the Great Darkness with it... the End of the World is n-near." The proclamation made Dany's bones fill with ice. She did not believe in gods, but... the words brought a power she could not name yet it was one she could not ignore.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Jon's voice was steeled with resolve. It provided Dany some measure of reassurance.

"C-Coming from the o-one who banished him I-I suppose you may have a chance." The warlock's breathing was becoming very unsteady, "The future has changed drastically and we could not predict it anymore. Huff... huff... The fact that you and he both influenced it tells me that everything will come down to the both of you battling each other... huff...huff...huff... If you fail..."

"I won't." Jon stated with finality. The warlock smiled lightly before he stopped moving completely.

---

"Who are you?!" She finally blurted out. Jon stopped and turned around to face her. His grey eyes were wide with confusion... and something else... fear? They were getting ready to walk down the tower. Pyat Pree's death and revelations had made Jon go quiet. Then Rhaegal who had been with his brothers on her shoulders leapt to Jon's shoulders and perched himself there looking quite content and happy.

For Dany that had been the straw that broke the horse's back.

"Excuse me?" He asked softly, his face turning into a stoic mask. For an instant, Dany thought that perhaps she did not want to know the truth, but she felt she needed to. She needed to know this man, this strange and mysterious man in front of her and his connection to her. For there was a connection between them. She felt it the moment she laid eyes on him outside.

She'd seen him in her dreams, and now she knew she dreamt of him as a lover... and her destroyer. But there was more to it than that. So much more. And after everything that happened today... there were hints, big hints, that Jon was someone very important. To her family. To her house. To the world.

To herself.

"I..." She stuttered before shaking herself. She was a Khaleesi and she needed to act like one! "Before you arrived and that... thing... took control of us, I heard things. Conversations I think. That I would kill you because you were a threat to me. That you were the heir to the throne? And everything we spoke while that thing had us... and... and everything else! What does it all mean? Who are you? Why are you here? What-"

With every word she spoke, Jon's eyebrows raised further and further up, and the fear became all the more prominent in his ever widening eyes.

"I-" He began to say before stopping himself. Believing he would lie or try to get out of it she walked up to him and grabbed him by the arms. She felt the sparks reappear as they moved up from her fingers all the way to her heart once more.

"Please..." She pleaded softly yet desperately, eyes growing wet, "please just tell me. Are you a Targaryen? Or at least a Targaryen bastard? I have to know. I must know!"

I don't want to be the last of my House. I don't want to be alone!

Jon stared at her for a long moment. That single moment felt like an eternity to Dany, but she did not even blink as she silently willed Jon to speak. Jon in turn closed his eyes as his face scrunched up in what seemed to be pain before it relaxed into a more serious expression. His hands came to her forearms before gently coming to her shoulders. The feel of his calloused hands moving along her skin gave her goosebumps and she had to repress an involuntary shudder as a familiar heat began to pool in her belly... one that was accompanied by an ache she had not felt since her Sun and Stars passed.

Then he pushed her away with his hands moving to the front of his shirt. She was confused, pleasantly so, until he removed his shirt to reveal the upper half of his body. Jon's torso was lean and muscled in a way similar to Drogo's. It was a body that was no stranger to combat. It was beautiful... at least it would have been so if not for the seven angry scars that littered it. They looked as if they never healed right or even closed properly. The one right over his heart drew most of her attention. How could any man survive so many wounds? Drogo had ultimately perished to one, and even that had been helped along by that witch.

"I was raised in Winterfell as the bastard son of Eddard Stark..." He began his tale of murder and death and a vision of a future they might have lived. She was saddened that some of what Drakhan had said had been true in some capacity... of Jon not having a purpose or place in the world. Of how the family he was raised with had been scattered or killed. She was in awe of how he lived with the Night's Watch and how he made peace with Wildlings, or Free Folk, who sounded similar to the Dothraki as well as his encounters with the Night King and the Dead, the wights. Her heart thundered when, after he had been named King in the North, she came into the vision and from there everything spiraled into something she never dreamed: Viserion being shot down, the two of them together, the truth of his parentage, losing Ser Jorah, her further losses and him not being able to be what she needed him to be, all of it culminating in her going mad and him having to kill her. So he had seen it... no... the way he was describing it, it was as if he lived it.

He told of how after instead of being executed, to which he admitted he wished for much to her horror, he was banished back to the Night's Watch. He spoke of the woman who dragged him out of the pit he cast himself in, Val, the beautiful blonde woman in furs from the vision. How they eventually married and had children, to her anger and jealousy, and then of how Drakhan had possessed his brother, Bran who had been king. How he ravaged the Seven Kingdoms until he was slain, and with Jon having to be the king who cleaned up the mess and built up only one kingdom.

"After I died for the final time in the vision... I woke up in my bed in Winterfell, alive with my magic awakened. During that time Drakhan made some sort of storm happen in an effort to cultivate a body capable of withstanding him. I've been trying desperately to stop him while averting the worst parts of the vision." Jon finished as he put his shirt back on.

"I..." She trailed off, petting Drogon, the one child who remained, the one who destroyed the Iron Throne, before she picked back up, "I'm having a difficult time believing all of this." There are parts she certainly wanted to be real... and there were parts she most certainly wished would never come to pass.

"I do not blame you. It sounds completely and utterly mad. But..." Jon softly said, stalling at the end.

"But what?"

"I can show you." He informed hesitantly which made her all the more cautious about it, "I have to warn you though there is a side effect. A consequence."

"What consequence?" She questioned backing up. She instantly hated the hurt grimace he made when she did that.

"I have done this before with several others. Those I trust to help me with preparing against the Others, however..." Jon looked to the side uncomfortably before continuing, "They began to 'remember' for lack of a better term."

"Remember what? Their lives?" She couldn't help but be intrigued by the prospect.

"Yes and no. Let me explain," He forestalled seeing her question, "after sharing the vision with them or pieces of it to prove what I said was true it's as if they remember that life despite never having lived it or even experience the way I did. You remember me telling you about Sam?" She nodded, still having difficulty believing that she killed Jon's best friend's father and brother without actually being aware of it, "I shared the vision with him and at the end he instantly remembered everything involving me from his point of view. But that was it. He could hardly recall anyone else, even Gilly, the woman he loved. That being said, he recalled enough of her to realize there was a major gap in his memory. A hole where she was supposed to be. When I shared the vision with Gilly and got the two to meet," Jon clicked his fingers together, "It was almost as if they'd spent years together instead of meeting for the first time ever though they did go slow with their relationship at first."

"So you're saying... if we do this... If I let you show me what you saw, then I will most likely remember everything with you... including..."

"Aye, including that." Jon nodded solemnly, "It's your choice, Dany. That being said... Sam did tell me that the memories were... distant... like remembering a dream."

Daenerys stared at Jon for a long moment before her eyes moved to Rhaegal still perched on his shoulder. Then her gaze moved to Viserion on her left before moving towards Drogon. Did she really want to see this? To remember this?

"How much have you shared with everyone, exactly?" She asked, wondering just what he would show.

"Bits and pieces mostly. Most times mainly consist of memories I share of them while other times I show them things they were never there for. I find it best to focus on those with them given how much I actually share when doing this."

"What do you mean?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I-" Jon sucked on his teeth looking away shyly, "When I show them these things, they are from my perspective. Not only do they see what I see, but they feel what I feel, hear what I think. I'm not merely sharing the memory, but the experience of the event so..."

"So if I see when you killed me... I'll have a very good look at what you were feeling when it happened."

"As well as what I thought... It's not... a good memory to say the least. I can leave it-"

"NO!" She was suddenly shouting as she grabbed him by the arms, shaking as a whirlwind of emotions tore through her, "You will not hide yourself from me! If I am to know you, why you did it, I need to see it for myself!"

Jon stood there stunned while staring at her until he nodded reluctantly, looking miserable, "Alright, then. Do you want me to show you when we first met or a little more earlier? When I got the letter to come meet you?"

"I want you to start at the beginning."

"The letter then. Very well-"

"No," She shook her head, "When it started for you. At the beginning before we even knew of each other."

"I- But-" Jon sputtered before saying, "I can't show you everything. I can't remember everything and even if I did, you would be experiencing years' worth of my life!"

"That's what I want. Show me as much as you can." Her hands trailed up his arms to his face.

"Wh-"

"I must know the man in front of me if I need to trust him." Jon shook his head negatively.

"You won't trust me at the end of this. You'll hate me and rightly so. The first thing you'll do is have your dragons try to burn me alive. When that fails, you'll have Ser Jorah execute me."

"I'll be the judge of that, Jon. Please... show me. Trust me." She pleaded softly. Jon looked terrified, but she knew she needed to forge on. She needed to understand. After a moment, he nodded his head.

"Alright, alright." He sighed, bracing himself as he grabbed onto her arms light emanated from his body and enveloped her. It was so peaceful. She felt safe, "Try to clear your mind as I share mine with yours. Do not think, only feel." Jon closed his eyes and his head dipped. On instinct, her eyes closed as forehead met his, "Here we go."

---

He'd been right. She had been angry by the end of it, but aside from the tearful slap of which he had refused to use magic heal, there were little more than tears and heartfelt apologies exchanged after that. Jon had fallen on both his hands and knees, head meeting the floor with a dull pain blossoming, weeping how much he wished he had never done it. How much he wished he'd fought harder for her. A hundred regrets poured from his lips until he felt her fingers grab the knot in his hair and freed his dark curls from their bondage. Then she too fell to her knees and made him look into her eyes. Her beautiful, violet, tear-filled eyes.

Dany pulled him into her arms and held him tightly, "My sweet wolf." She'd only called him that in their most intimate moments.

"There's no way you can forgive me for betraying you like that! You should be furious with me!" He sobbed, hands coming to her waist but not around it. He did not deserve it.

"I am," she admitted in his ear and he braced himself for her impending judgment, "But I'm more furious at myself for putting you in that situation."

"What?" He croaked out, having not expected that response.

"You barely understood a single word of Valyrian I said in that speech so let me tell you: Tyrion was right." Jon's eyes widened, "As much as I wish he wasn't he was. I wasn't going to stop. I planned on conquering everywhere. From the Summer Isles to Yi Ti. I wasn't interested in ruling anymore. Only conquest. And you were the only one who could stop me."

"I should have-" She shushed him, hand rubbing against his back. Dany pulled away from him, fingers lovingly brushing his beard as she looked him in the eyes, tears still falling.

"No one who had the strength to do it could get close to me. And any who were close to me would not do it, save you. You were the only one who could, Jon. I was right about one thing at least: You know what's right."

"It did not feel right." Jon reiterated himself this time to her.

"No it did not, but I would have burned more cities to the ground if I was allowed to continue. I-" She choked for a moment, "I wasn't me anymore. Do you understand? I became the Queen of Ashes and I stopped being Daenerys Targaryen."

"That's not true," Jon whispered as his fingers brushed her cheek lovingly, "I still saw you in there."

"That was only with you. You brought out what little of me remained." She admitted. He hugged her fiercely and she responded in kind.

---

It had been several hours later when things finally settled: They exited the tower with all three dragons, Dany promptly burst into tears upon seeing Ser Jorah and embraced him as if Death itself would take him away right then and there.

The dothraki, Kovarro, attempted to attack Jon thinking he had done something to Dany. She barked at the man very harshly in dothraki and the poor fool looked like a scolded child. He wasn't sure exactly what was said, but Ser Jorah had given him a few queer looks during her tirade. The Mormont's eyes focused on Rhaegal in particular who had not left Jon's shoulder at all.

The little dragon, far smaller than when Jon had met him in his previous life, had taken one look at Jon and claimed him as his rider/favorite perch. Rhaegal also seemed to share his mother's love for Jon's curls as the little demon proceeded to rip the small cord Jon used to knot his hair back and free his dark curls from confinement. After he did that, said dragon rubbed affectionately against his free locks to the point of almost making a nest on top of his head much to Dany's amusement.

There was some trouble when dealing with Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Doreah, Dany's traitorous handmaiden. As Jon understood it, Doreah had not only helped conspire to steal Dany's dragons, which Jon knew was treason alone, but she murdered her fellow handmaiden Irri. The Qartheen Merchant was a summer islander given his dark skin complexion and was heavy set enough to be considered a man of wealth and taste. The sort Jon hated talking to as king. This man had not only housed Dany, he also attempted to marry her, something that made Jon's blood boil no matter how much he did not deserve her, as well as conspired to usurp her dragons and take power in Qarth.

All in all, Jon agreed they deserved death.

He did not, however, agree with the method of execution.

When they began begging, deep in the underground vault underneath the manse, Jon still refused to say a word, but all was rendered silent when Dany turned her head and spoke.

"What?" Jon did not speak, unsure of whom she was addressing. The merchant and the traitor paused in their begging as Dany's people stopped pushing them into the vault, staring at the queen.

"Khaleesi-" The woman begged only for Dany to growl at her.

"I am not speaking to you! Be Silent!" Then she turned fully toward him, "I can hear you disapproving. What is it?"

"It seems excessive." He finally said after a few seconds, all eyes turning to them "Locking them in a vault."

"You know what they did." She stated, nostrils flaring. He knew she would be displeased by this, but he chose to answer. Might as well get it over with.

"Aye, I do."

"They deserve death."

"They do." The girl sobbed.

"Then what would you have me do?" She asked as she slowly stepped up to him. Jon did not break eye contact with her.

"Make it quick. Execute them and be done with it." She looked at him like he'd something strange.

"That's far too merciful." Her response was neither accusing or even biting. Jon had a feeling she knew where he was going with this.

"You're right, but it's not for them." Jon replied with a shake of his head, staring into her eyes as he kept going, "It says more about you than it does them... and I really don't like what it says about you, My Queen." She stiffened at his term for her, her lips quirking so slightly Jon barely saw it in the torchlight.

"We need a world built on mercy." She muttered softly, finally looking down at their feet. Jon felt his heart twinge at the words as he took a half-step back.

"It's your choice, Your Grace." Jon said, she looked up at him realizing how the words had affected him, "Either way, you have my support." He could see the apology in her eyes even as he turned away to leave. His legs moved of their own accord though thankfully not against his will this time. She said something in dothraki before following him up the stairs to the manse proper. As soon as they were up, Dany grabbed him by the arm and led him to a room. Once they were more or less alone, they stared at one another before her arms were around him and her body against his. His own arms circled her as she tucked her head under his. Old habits were emerging between the two of them it seemed.

Dany had never been particularly clingy, but Jon could tell she wanted him kept close. Especially after he shared everything with her.

"I'm glad you were here to tell me that. Jorah would have locked the door and given me the key to throw away." She eventually said. Jon knew that's what happened the first time though she never told him that in their many talks together when they were alone. Apparently, she sensed that too, as she looked up to him, "Does that bother you?"

"Not really," He admitted, "I just hated the idea of you being cruel enough to let someone die slowly like that. You're better than that."

Dany gulped as she stared up at him as their eyes remained connected. Slowly, the world around them fell away until it was only him and her. Her face came closer and her lips met his. They were as soft and sweet as he remembered. Lost in memory he failed to react in time and she pulled away despondently. Suddenly, he was back in the Chamber of the Painted Table that night with her resigning herself to be alone and feared.

No, never again.

He stopped her retreat before she could pull further away. Their blood-relation still bothered him just a bit, and he had been working on it as best he could, but it never stopped him from loving her or thinking she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

I'll never let her suffer like that again!

With that thought in mind he pulled her back towards him and his lips met hers. Their mouths moulded to one another, with Dany releasing a relieved sigh which turned pleased as they kissed, slowly at first before it became heated. Her hands made their way to his back. Her fingers curled and dug into him as their kissing became more passionate. In turn, one hand of his moved down and grabbed her arse. Gods! He'd forgotten how perfect it was! He'd just barely become aware of how tight his trousers had become with him poking her when they heard Ser Jorah calling for her.

"Khaleesi!" The call echoed in the manse followed by more forcing the two to stop, both breathing just a little more heavily. Her violet eyes were looking at him hungrily.

"Your people call for their queen." He whispered. She looked down at the tent that was pitched in pants appreciatively before looking back up.

"How long do you plan to stay here?" She asked, a provocative smile forming on her face.

"How long before you leave this city?" Her smile was gone with that question.

"If we can get a ship quickly? Today, possibly tomorrow?"

"Well... I can stay for a few more hours, but I need to head back to Westeros by then. Besides, there's some things I need to talk about with you and Ser Jorah." Dany gave him that beautiful smile again.

"Then let me take care of a few things and then we'll talk."

Now here they were with Doreah and Xaro both minus a head each, their bodies locked away in the vault still, with all her dothraki, minus a few warriors, raiding everything of value. What little value there was considering the merchant's wealth was a lie. Dany had changed her outfit from the leather-bound dress to a more freer cloth dress that accentuated her figure though she was now wearing leather riding chaps. She looked more like the queen he met now. Rhaegal was with his brothers who were beginning to fly, having matured enough to do it.

There was one final thing he needed to do before he left. Jon silently took the book out and turned the pages until he found the Inventory page. Scrolling through the list, he found what he was searching for. With the press on the page the sword appeared in his free hand. It was still incredibly light, yet no less deadly than when he wielded it last. What else would you expect from Valyrian steel? The book went back to its smaller form, enabling Jon to use his other hand to steady the sword by the blade though its sheath was still on. Jon presented the sword to Dany, even as Ser Jorah and her Dothraki warriors unsheathed their own blades, all eyes on the sword in Jon's hands.

"Where did you get that?" Ser Jorah growled having merely seen Jon pull the blade from thin air.

"Magic spell." Jon replied in a deadpan voice. It was his go-to explanation whenever someone bothered to notice how he made things disappear and reappear. That, and the 'magic pocket' excuse. Both were not particularly true, yet were not total lies either. He continued to hold the blade out to her, "Here, Dany. This belongs to you."

Daenerys continued to stare at the blade, taking it in, "This was the blade you used against Drakhan." Jon couldn't blame her for not recognizing it beyond that. Daenerys never struck him as a weapon enthusiast. Not to mention the sword had been lost for decades at this point. It was a true work of art despite being a weapon of war: a longsword of Valyrian steel, the dark blade slender and lighter than the one Jon kept at his hip, made for a woman's hand. And while Jon was sure that the hilt had been changed over the centuries, with the guard resembling dragon wings, and a steel pommel on the end, he could think of no better blade for the Targaryen Queen in front of him than this one. After all, it served House Targaryen well with Queen Visenya all the way until Bloodraven himself.

[Dark Sister]
[Description: A battle-ready sword of Valyrian steel that shows the signs of many battles. Wield the strength of Visenya Targaryen with this fearsome blade!]
[Damage: 115.5-132.9]
[Speed: 2.1]
[DPS: 60]
[Bonuses: +200% Damage against Magical Beings, +24% Defense, +41% Attack, +33% Speed, +10% XP, Chance to inflict Bleeding by +10% with each attack, +20 Energy for each opponent killed.]

"This is Dark Sister. One of the two Valyrian steel swords that belong to House Targaryen, the other being Blackfyre. It's only right that this blade be wielded by you, Your Grace." Jon informed, causing Dany and Ser Jorah to gasp silently, though no one else around them seemed to understand.

"How did you find it?" Jorah asked, inspecting the legendary blade, "It's been lost since the first Blackfyre Rebellions."

"It was in a cave underneath a weirwood in the lands beyond-the-wall. The... final resting place of Lord Commander Brynden Rivers, one of Aegon the Unworthy's great bastards." Daenerys took the sword from him with great care and looked at it, unsheathing it gently enough to admire the blade. He knew she was getting a feel for it. Measuring it. A quick glance to Ser Jorah then back to Dark Sister hinted what she was thinking.

"Aegon the Unworthy?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Aegon IV." Jon clarified before explaining, "He's the only king I know of who matched Robert Baratheon's excesses." Dany's face gained a pinched expression at the mention of Robert, but Jon carried on, "Feasting, drinking, whoring, he did it all and sired numerous illegitimate children. On his deathbed he legitimized all of them and they proceeded to tear the Realm apart. It is not an exaggeration to say his actions are what caused the Blackfyre Rebellions and the loss of both of House Targaryen's ancestral swords."

"What of the other sword? Blackfyre? Did you by chance happen to find it or at least have some idea on where it might be?" Ser Jorah asked almost enthusiastically.

"I do. I have it with me right here." Jon admitted somewhat reluctantly, having an idea of where this might go. He went back into his inventory until he summoned it. Jon took a moment to admire the sword still sheathed.

[Blackfyre]
[Description: Wielded by every Targaryen king for 200 years after the Conquest, the blade of Aegon the Conqueror was brought from Dragonstone after the Doom. This spell-forged Valyrian steel is still fit for a king and should be used for more than scratching one's arse.]
[Damage: 115.5-190.9]
[Speed: 2.9-2.1]
[DPS: 60]
[Bonuses: Damage +200% against Magical Beings, +24% Defense, +41% Attack, +33% Speed, +10% XP, Hit chance +6%, Critical hit chance +11%, Critical Damage +8%, +20 Energy for each opponent killed.]

Unsheathing the blade, and making everyone but Dany tense, he pointed the blade down and the tip sank just a bit into the stone under their feet. Jon held the sword of his ancestors steady with both hands as he had Longclaw whenever he decided to make a small show of it. Blackfyre wasn't as it was described as it had been in the songs and histories, and Jon could only figure that it was done so because every generation or so tried to make Blackfyre theirs. To reflect them and their ideals. The Blackfyre Jon had in his possession now was the one from the time of the Dance of Dragons. The crossguard was shaped in the form of two dragons with their necks straight out, their wings interlocked at the base of the blade as if holding it in place. What Jon presumed was the tail of the dragon wrapped around the hilt all the way to the pommel which in itself had what appeared to be a seven-pointed star or something similar to a tip on the bottom of it.

Jon can attest that that tip has hurt many opponents.

"Then the Khaleesi should have that sword, even more so than Dark Sister. Especially since you have no intention of pressing your claim." Jorah stated, voice even but recriminating all the same.

"Ser Jorah!" Dany had evidently heard it too as she snapped at her knight causing him to startle slightly.

"Khaleesi-"

"He's not wrong, Dany." Jon cut in before a row could start making the two of them look back at him in shock as he kept speaking, "Unlike Dark Sister, while still a legendary weapon, Blackfyre is viewed more as a symbol of authority. It is the King's Sword. Every King and Heir wielded this blade since Aegon the Conqueror to Aegon the Unworthy. It's another reason why the Blackfyre Rebellion became so hard to quell." Jon turned his gaze to Ser Jorah, eyes hardening into flint, "However, Ser Jorah, let me be clear: I gave Our Queen Dark Sister for practical reasons and not political ones."

"Practical?" He questioned with a raised brow before his eyes widened, "You wish the Khaleesi to learn how to fight with Dark Sister!?"

"Aye, I do." Jon affirmed with a nod, "There's going to come a day where you and your men are not going to be able to protect her." Ser Jorah opened his mouth in protest, but Jon ran over it, "Not fully anyway. There will always be more enemies. Then there are the other reasons." At their curious looks, he continued, "Firstly, Our Queen already has a better symbol of authority than Blackfyre, three in fact." All three looked towards her dragons who were flying in the air before Jon continued, "Secondly, Dark Sister was made for a woman's hand so there is no better weapon to match for her from a martial standpoint while Blackfyre is better for me because I excel at fighting with a sword like this." He drove home his words by performing a few powerful, but graceful swings, showing his mastery of fighting with a half-and-hand sword before sheathing it, "And thirdly, if you still want a better symbol of authority, then think of it like this: When Our Queen comes home to take the Seven Kingdoms, she will do so with three dragons as Aegon the Conqueror did and she's as beautiful as Queen Rhaenys was said to be. What could be more symbolic than her being as deadly as Queen Visenya in addition to all of that?"

Jon knew he had made an excellent point for Ser Jorah when he looked at Dany considerately. His queen was blushing and smiling sweetly at him. But Jon only said what he saw as the truth. After all, how much authority could Blackfyre muster in the face of one who embodied The Conqueror and his Queens? Very little, if any, he would think. However the knight's next point did make Jon freeze, "It will not matter if people realize you are Rhaegar's son, his trueborn son at that. The Lords of Westeros will not listen to a queen when they can have a king."

"Let them try." Jon replied with some venom making everyone, even Dany, tense, "Any who would try to unseat her to put me on the throne will find themselves on the wrong side of Blackfyre." Jon didn't even realize he was walking up to Jorah making the man step back, "I've always tried to fight for the right reasons, Ser Jorah. Trying to replace our Queen just because she was not born with a cock is not right."

"Jon." Dany's hand was on his shoulder, gently, but firmly grasping it. The warmth from it was intoxicating, and when Jon looked into her eyes, he had to control his breathing, and had to fight to look away from her as he stepped back before his trousers got any tighter. He had forgotten how Dany loved it when he showed his Alpha side as she liked to call it. A glance back to her showed she still had that look in her eye... and did she just lick her lips!? Fuck! He remembered that look all too well.

That was a look he'd seen many a time on their trip to White Harbor. It was a look that promised they would be utterly spent and flushed together in bed after a couple hours of heated lovemaking. He mentally thanked the gods he decided to wear a leather gambeson long enough to hide his already throbbing erection. He was also thankful for being on land as he had a means of escape. Jon couldn't do that while on the ship to White Harbor. Not that he'd ever wanted to.

Getting his mind away from those thoughts, Jon moved to something he'd been meaning to do for years now. His left hand came to the blade he had been publicly using since it had been given to him for over a year now, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do.

"Ser Jorah Mormont," The knight focused in on him cautiously, "you may not know me well, and to be honest I do not know you that well either. That being said... I know you will live by your House's words when it comes to Our Queen. That makes me trust you more than anyone else with her safety and wellbeing. Sadly, I can't be here for her all the time." He looked at her again and her passionate gaze turned sad reflecting his own, "I leave it to you to train her in how best to use Dark Sister. And I expect you to do so while using this." With those words the sword at his hip was untied from Jon's belt and in his hand. It was another bastard sword similar in size and length to Blackfyre... and it was an old friend to Jon. The White Wolf with ruby eyes snarling at him never ceased to make him feel happy.

[Longclaw]
[Description: A Valyrian steel blade, held by the Mormonts for 500 years, given to Jon Snow]
[Damage: 115.5-190.9]
[Speed: 2.9-2.1]
[DPS: 60]
[Bonuses: Damage 200% against Magical Beings, 5% Defense, 17% Attack, 8% XP Bonus, Hit Chance 6%, Critical Hit Chance 11%, Critical Damage 8%]

"Your father gave me this sword. He changed the pommel from a bear to a wolf, but it's still Longclaw." He said, his words repeating years both before and after he had said them first. He presented the sword that had been his partner for decades back to the man who should wield it. Jorah stared at the blade with obvious surprise and desire. "Lord Commander Mormont thought you would never come back to Westeros, but I know you will return alongside our Our Queen. And it's been in your family for centuries. It's not right for me to have it." House Mormont had died the first time round. It still felt sort of wrong to have Longclaw even back then. Daenerys watched with wide eyes darting between the two. Jorah looked towards her before looking back to Longclaw. He repeated this several times before Dany caught his eye and nodded for him to take it.

His Queen's most stalwart defender slowly reached for it, taking it with care and reverence that Jon had only seen once from the man. He carefully unsheathed it, inspecting the blade, recognizing it. Jorah then met Jon's eye, "He gave it to you. Why?"

Jon hesitated a moment before summoning his resolve, "Do you remember the stories of the Others?" Dany went very still as Jorah looked at him confused. At his nod Jon continued, "They're real, and while I've yet to see any ice spiders, I have seen the White Walkers and the Dead. The Others... have returned Ser Jorah." As the knight's eyes widened and his brows raised, he saw Dany close her eyes in an effort not to tremble, "A few years back around the time when we began to get reports of the Wildlings moving in entire tribes my magic awakened. I experienced a... vision... for lack of a better term... of the White Walkers bringing a second Long Night. Of war unlike anything the Seven Kingdoms experienced in living memory. Soon enough rumors began to circulate that a new King-Beyond-the-Wall had risen, and they were true too... only...the Wildlings... the Free Folk were not preparing for any attack on the Wall. They were running. Running from the Others. Trying desperately to get south of the Wall to survive."

Jorah, despite what he feared, merely listened with rapt attention, and he knew Dany was as well as this was different from what he'd shown her, "I'll keep the story short: I joined a joint expedition between the Night's Watch and the Free Folk. The goal was to acquire proof that the Dead were rising. We spent weeks out there in that frozen wasteland until we finally caught two wights... after confronting a swarm of them along with two White Walkers. Despite losing a few of our members, we succeeded in bringing the two wights back. We made sure that the skeptics in the Night's Watch saw the two dead men before moving back toward Winterfell, where Lord Stark called on all of the Northern Lords and Ladies. We presented our evidence, and in spite of more than a few foolish lords thinking it was smart to let the Free Folk die on the other side of the Wall, it was ultimately decided to let them south. With concessions."

"Concessions?" Dany asked, sounding like she knew she wasn't going to like the answer.

"I can imagine the Lords of the North did not merely just allow tens of thousands of Wildings onto their lands so easily. There's far too much bad blood between the two." Jorah added.

"Aye, you're right." Jon admitted, "There was a vetting process to allow them south. We would make note of their names, tribes, families, and which camp on whose land they would go to."

"That had to have been slow." Jorah stated thinking about it. Jon merely nodded before Dany cut in.

"But the Others do not have an army? Just only a few dead men, yes?" Dany asked hopefully. Jon looked down.

"I wish I could say yes. We managed to save just a little over forty-thousand when... he came."

"He?" Ser Jorah inquired.

"The Night King," Jon stated and he noticed Dany barely withhold a gasp, "He came like a sudden storm. Literally. An unnatural blizzard struck the Wall and we had to close the gate leaving so many outside. We had tens of thousands on the other side of the Wall... And he let the Dead massacre all of them... Men, women, children... none were spared. All meat for his army." He noticed Jorah gulp while Dany looked to be holding back tears at the mention of children. "When it was over... he came out of the Haunted Forest... into our line of sight. Once he came far enough out, he surveyed the Wall. I still remember seeing him spot us. Your father and I. He took one of his ice spears and threw it with such force that it easily reached us."

"The Wall is 700 feet tall!" Jorah said in shock.

"A White Walker has unnatural strength of which I have been on the receiving end of. It threw me like I weighed nothing more than a stone." Jorah's eyes widened as he clutched Longclaw's hilt. "The spear damn-near skewered us, but I managed to tackle him out of the way," His hand drifted to his shoulder, "though I did get grazed by it." His eyes looked towards the sword in Jorah's hands, "For my efforts, your father gave me Longclaw."

Jorah looked at Longclaw for a long moment before handing the blade out to him, "If what you say is true... if my father gave it to you, then you earned it."

"I'm not his son." Jon replied, not taking the sword. Ser Jorah looked at the blade and Jon marveled at how he fell right into the same movements he did during the Wight Hunt.

"I brought shame into my House. I broke my father's heart." He sheathes the blade and looks Jon in the eye, "I forfeited the right to claim this sword. It's your's." He nearly threw it at Jon who caught it, "May it serve you well... and your children after you."

It already had... but Jon could not tell him that. So instead he said, "I would rather it serve my Queen, Ser Jorah." He looked the man in the eye the way he looked at stubborn men when he was a king and threw Longclaw back to him. Ser Jorah straightened as he caught it while meeting Jon's eyes, "Where I go, what I do... There is no guarantee that I will make it to my next destination. I may not live long enough to have children." He noticed Dany stiffen at those last words, so he pressed on, "But House Targaryen can still live on through her and any man she chooses." He tied Blackfyre to his belt, "Besides, I have Blackfyre. The two swords are roughly the same."

"Jon..." Dany said looking like she had when he said he'd go to Eastwatch with Jorah, "I... I can't..."

"I said before that that witch was an unreliable source of information. I didn't believe it the first time, and I still don't now." That got her to smile just a bit, "But if it really bothers you so, let me check if it's true or not... get on the table or the bed." He gestured to either piece of furniture in the room.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, voice raised, and he thought that maybe he could have phrased that better. It almost sounded like he was propositioning her.

"I have magical abilities that are geared toward healing among other things," He raised his hands and they glowed with a soft white light, "including checking for internal injuries and curses. If you are cursed, I will feel it, and depending on the strength of the curse, I can either break it now or later into the future as my abilities grow."

"Will it harm her in any way?" Jorah asked, making Dany's joyful expression turn into a glare directed at him.

"No, Ser Jorah, I just need her to lay down so I can hover my hands over her body. I won't touch her without her permission, but the more physical contact the more effective the spell is." One of the Dothraki in the room was making noise and pointing at Jon, and he guessed that the man was terrified of him and calling him a witch that'll curse Dany. He took his guess as correct when Dany turned and practically barked back to the man in the same language who was suitably scolded.

'There she is.' Jon thought happily. Dany walked over to the table while Jon grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it on the table so Dany could rest her head with at least some comfort. As she laid down, Jon believes their bodies are falling back into the routine they had when they were together as his hand automatically grabs hers which clenches back while his other hand cradles her by the back of the neck, laying her down gently onto the pillow. It is only after that they realize it, and Jon is sure he's blushing at the small smile she gives him.

"Alright," Jon says as his hands glow with pale energy, "I'm going to start with your head and work my way down. Is it alright if I touch your head?" At her nod he began. He gripped her crown, then her temples and the sides of her face. There was no physical damage, but he was sensing something was off. Not magical, but if he had to guess... stress. Given what's occurred recently, he couldn't blame her at all. He pushed some healing energy and watched her relax just a bit. His hands moved further down, trailing just a bit over her neck and then hovering over her chest and breasts.

Her breasts had shown signs of lactating, which he had to remind himself that at this point in time she'd recently been an expecting mother. He'd thought they looked bigger. His mind wandered to how she looked when she was carrying her son. The image was beautiful, and a part of him wishes it had been his child, and another part of him was wondering how it would be if he was with her like he had been with Val when she was heavy with their children. He held back on shaking his head and pushed those thoughts away to focus back on Dany.

Why did she look like she was pouting?

Focus, Jon, focus!

His fingers grazed down her ribcage, no damage there or to her lungs which was very good. Then his hand hovered over her abdomen and he noticed her frown, "I need to feel your stomach, is that all right?" He must have made a face or let it out in his tone because now she looked worried even as she nodded. His hands touched her and gently caressed her belly. He heard her inhale a bit, but didn't comment on it. He was too focused on what he was feeling right now. Daenerys's insides were largely fine for the most part, in perfect health almost. But her womb... what in seven hells causes this kind of damage?

"Jon?" Dany asked, voice sounding almost scared. Jon knew he hadn't been able to keep the frown off his face as he looked down and saw her frightened eyes.

"You're not cursed, Dany." He said, which caused Ser Jorah to sigh in relief, however Dany's eyebrows were all the way up and knitted together whenever she got concerned.

"But?" She prompted after a few seconds.

"... I'm detecting a lot of damage in and around your womb." He finally admitted causing her to gasp with tears forming in her eyes, and Ser Jorah inhaled sharply, "It's nothing I can't heal!" He rushed to say. The relief in her eyes made everything that happened today worth it, "I'm just concerned about what caused it. I'm no expert on pregnancy, but if I didn't know any better, I'd say something rubbed or scraped your womb raw." His hands moved around, tracing the damage, before his left followed it as it began moving lower toward a place his hands had not been to in this lifetime. He managed to catch himself and raise his hand off of her before it reached between her legs.

He could feel Jorah's stare. At least he hoped it was a stare. But Jon focused on his Queen once more. She looked... despondent.

"What? What is it, what?" He asked, seeing her expression, his hands leaving her body for the moment.

"The witch... Mirri Maz Durr... she said... Rhaego..." Jon waited for her to say, but she was about ready to burst into tears. Jon did not think, only moved. He lifted Dany by the shoulders and embraced her with as much warmth and tenderness he could summon. She wrapped her arms around him immediately and silently sobbed, wetting his shirt. Not that he cared. He thread his fingers through her hair until she calmed down. Then Jorah spoke.

"The witch said that the queen's son... He was born with scales and wings... like a bat." Like a dragon went unsaid.

"Did you see this for yourselves?" Jon asked, voice soft. Dany merely shook her head negatively, still pressed tight against him.

"No, but the others..." Jon glanced back over his shoulder at the others of Dany's people, "They said different things, but all had one thing in common: the boy had scales." Jon was instantly aware of what it may have been and what caused it, though he hesitated on saying what it was. He might as well not have bothered as Dany stiffened in his arms and looked up at him. Tear stained amethysts gazed up at him sadly.

"You think you may know what caused it." It wasn't a question or accusation, but by the Old Gods, how did she know?! "Tell me."

Jon sighed as he closed his eyes. It was silent for a minute before Dany pulled away, her hands moving to his front and clutching it harshly.

"Tell me!" She ordered again, voice raised yet quivering, same as her hands.

"To do that, I need to explain how magic affects pregnancy." At her nod he continued bracing himself for what was about to happen, "People can be classified into six different ranks of magical potential. These ranks are, from lowest to highest: Very Low, Low, Middling, High, Very High, and Extreme. Most people are usually Very Low or Low, though in recent years, people in Westeros are rising to the Middling and some even to the High ranks, but that is only recently with more than several showing stronger magical affinities. Very few are ever born with High magical potential and fewer that go past that. There are scarce few families in this day and age that produce such gifted children. One of them being House Targaryen." Dany nodded in understanding, tears lessening, but he knew they'd be back, "However, magic also affects the fertility rate of these people. While a man or woman with Very Low potential can still have children, with some minor difficulty, it is not the same for those with potential higher than Middling."

Dany's eyes widened, as she seemed to figure out what he was going to say. He put his hand up in an effort to stall her, "For the man or woman, it is as if their bodies prepare themselves to pass on their potential. For the man, he becomes more... potent. The higher his potential, the more easily he may get a woman with child. However, the opposite happens for the women with that potential," Dany's tears were back, "the womb of a woman with High potential becomes more... selective. From what I can tell..." He remembered his earlier Observation, "You are High leaning toward Very High. Usually if whatever man a woman with your potential has lain with is not at least Middling when it comes to magic, her womb will either not allow it to take root, or miscarry if it somehow does. In extreme cases... there are the ones like your son... where the magic overwhelms the babe."

"Y-You're saying... that it wasn't the witch that murdered my son?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, "It was me?"

"No!" Jon nearly shouted, hugging her once more, his head shaking from side to side rapidly, "Don't you ever think that! We both know that is a load of horse-shit, Dany! If you want to blame any one, blame our ancestors for messing with dragon's blood! Our family and the Dragonlords of Old Valyria did magical experiments that granted their connection to the dragons and their other gifts. That is the cause of this! You are not at fault, I promise you that!"

She was gripping him tightly once more, sobbing, loudly this time, into his chest. All he could do was hug her back as Jorah made everyone else leave before reluctantly exiting himself. Not before informing Jon silently that he'd be guarding the door. Dany kept crying while Jon stroked her hair in an effort to soothe her. After several long minutes, she pulled herself together.

"So... even if you heal the damage to my womb, I still can't have children?" She finally asked after turning her head, still embracing him.

"I did not say that. What I am saying is that you and your husband were not the best match. He had too little magical potential." Oh, gods, he was supposed to be making her feel better, not worse! "You just need to find a man with at least Middling potential and then you can have as many children as you want!"

She was silent for a long moment, before asking, "What about you?" Jon froze as she felt her fingers grip the back of his shirt. As if she were trying to make sure he wouldn't run away.

"I... am of Very High potential leaning to Extreme, partially due to my parents as they came from families known for strong magical talents, the other part due to training my abilities since they awakened some time ago. So... it's very possible." He couldn't lie to her. It would be so much easier if he could, but he wouldn't. He owed her his honesty.

"Then..." She began, looking up at him with fiery hopeful eyes. His heart thundered in his chest, and his trousers became unbearably tight. He was so hard he could have hammered nails with it right now. At this moment, Jon was confronted with his main weakness when it came to sex: A woman looking at him like the way Dany was now, asking to have his child. This was how Val finally got him to take his final steps out of the pit he put himself in. It had only been through them having their children that Jon wanted to truly live again. For that was his dream, his most selfish wish on par and subsequently tied to his wish to be a Stark. Where people wanted thrones, crowns, wealth, influence, etc. Jon wanted to be acknowledged with a family of his own. A woman who loved and accepted him, who wanted to make a future with him, and children who were proud to call him father. He denied himself that wish when he joined the Watch, then entertained it when he was with Ygritte, only to give it up once more in the aftermath rejoining the Watch and her death. And then he met Dany... for a while he thought he'd have it with her. But he killed that dream with his own hands.

He eventually got it with Val, but... she'd never been the Love of His Life. That had always been Dany. Ygritte had been his First Love with Val his Third and Final, but Dany... Jon never forgot her or stopped thinking about her.

And now here she was... having moved to sit up fully in front of him with her legs on both sides of his hips, feet brushing up against his calves, looking at him with the one look that aroused him more than any other.

And just like that, the Dragon and the Wolf were at war inside him again.

The Dragon, his primal darkside, wanted to take her right here, right now. To lay her flat against the table, kiss her harshly and hungrily before making his way down to her breasts hoping to taste some of the milk she still had before feasting on her pearl, and making her slick as a baby seal. Then once she was good and ready, he'd sheathe himself inside her before proceeding to make her scream so loudly the whole city would hear her cries of wanton pleasure. And once they'd both had their fill, he'd spill into her, fully intent on breeding her with his child and eagerly awaiting the time to make the next one while her belly swelled.

The Wolf, his more logical and virtuous side, told him it was an inopportune time with Drakhan out and about, the Seven Kingdoms at war, the White Walkers on the move, and Daenerys had her own path to follow here in Essos. Thousands upon thousands of souls were depending on her. And so many more were depending on him. A child, especially her's, would complicate all of that. The Wolf counseled that they could not afford the distraction, sweet as it would be. Not to mention the babe would be out of wedlock. He knew people would talk anyway, but he'd rather their babe have as few complaints thrown at them as possible. The complaint of incest, while present, was noticeably dulled. The Wolf, after all, had missed her too.

But... he tore his eyes away, and she made a disappointed huff.

"You do not want me? Even after... everything?" She asked, voice quiet and dejected. He looked into her eyes. Jon had seen kicked puppies who looked less sad.

"Not want you? I've got a stone pillar between my legs from the look you just gave me." He replied, his arms around her. She released a breathless laugh while her beautiful violets looked down at the aforementioned area, "However," Her eyes met his again, "keep in mind, we've literally just met today."

"But..." Her eyes widened in realization and her legs, which had been sensually brushing against his legs, slackened, and her voice whispered, "it feels like I've known you for far longer."

"Aye," Jon admitted, "it does. But it is too soon, and we have too many responsibilities and more to others than to simply try to make a family. No matter how much we may want to." He admitted, making her smile happily, one he responded to with his own small one as he went on, "You've got people to save, and I have monsters to fight. And I feel we've both stayed here too long anyway."

"Can you not stay with me a bit longer?" She asked, almost pleading, quietly, her knees locking against his hips, hands feeling ready to rip open his shirt. He was so hard right now it was actually starting to hurt.

"I-" He had no idea what he was going to say, but the moment was interrupted by crowing of all things.

"Snow! Snow! Snow!" Corben cawed out, telling Jon Brynden wished to speak with him.

"Fuckin' Hells." He whispered quietly, but she heard him all the same. Jon took a step back from the table as he turned his head towards the raven before warging into him.

---

In their mind-space, he saw Bloodraven standing in front of him as his human self which Jon did the same. They long since stopped showing themselves as the Three-eyed Raven and the White Wolf within the first year of their partnership.

"I apologize for interrupting, Nephew, but Drakhan is back in Westeros. I am feeling his presence in every single region. Did you find what you were looking for in Qarth?"

"Aye, I did, Lord Bloodraven," Jon replied with a weary sigh, "apparently Drakhan was after some sort of urn that House Targaryen took from the Warlocks centuries ago?"

"Hmmm." Brynden thought it over before his eyes widened, "The Tyraxones!"

"The who?" Jon asked with raised brow.

"They were ancient enemies to House Targaryen during the days of Old Valyria. They rebelled against the Freehold and were exiled to the east. The warlocks of Qarth are their descendants." Jon's eyebrows raised up together in shock.

"So what is so special about this urn then?" Brynden was silent before receding leaving Jon in control of Corben, who gave him a nice view of Dany trying to shake him out of his stupor while he just stood there with white eyes. She was now on her feet, shouting his name trying to rouse him when Ser Jorah burst through the door. Before he could slip out and calm them down, Brynden came back.

"Jon, you must return to Westeros post haste! The Urn is similar to the Artifacts Drakhan used to make those storms, but instead of simply gathering, and storing specific magics, it gathers all of them together and directs them toward a single target on release!"

The realization violently vibrated across their mind-space, "If Drakhan has someone in mind, and he releases the powers stored in the urn..."

"He'll have his perfect vessel!" Bloodraven finished.

"Alright, alright. Just... give me a moment here and I'll return North at the Godswood of Winterfell. In the meantime, try to find where the urn is. We'll be better off finding it before him."

"Of course. Make your goodbyes quick, Nephew."

"Right." Jon replied, cutting the connection.

---

When he came to, he was standing alone, but he could hear the tail end of their conversation, "-hat do you mean he's a warg? What's a warg?!"

"It's someone who can possess animals, Dany." Jon answered as he turned around. His Queen walked over to him and gripped his face firmly.

"You're back?" She asked, almost demanded.

"Yes, sorry for suddenly doing that. I have an... ally... who can communicate with me through Corben. When I warg into him, we can talk." All three of them looked at the raven who crowed at them.

"An ally?" Ser Jorah asked skeptically as Dany's hands left his face.

"I know it's strange, but he's helped me many a time. Some of the things I've managed to do would have been impossible without his help."

"And," Dany was obviously mad or annoyed by her tone of voice, "what did this ally have to say?"

Jon relayed the information: Drakhan was already back in Westeros, The Urn and what it could do, and why it was too dangerous to leave alone. The Mother of Dragons was not happy to hear he had to leave. She gave him a look, another he'd gotten to know on their trip to White Harbor almost as well as the one she'd given him earlier. And the two held a silent conversation with just a few movements of their eyes.

'You really can't stay?'

'I'd like to, but I can't.'

'Not even for-'

'Believe me, I'd like to.'

'Just a few minutes?' This made him sigh before relenting. Gods, one day with her and she already had him wrapped around her finger.

'Alright, only a few minutes.' The smile she gave could have matched the sun with how bright it was.

"Ser Jorah, go make sure we have everything ready for making our trip across the sea. I need to talk to Jon alone." Daenerys ordered in her queenly voice, not looking away from him. Gods he could see the fire practically dancing in those hypnotic eyes of her's.

"Your, Grace-" Jorah attempted to protest, but she cut him off.

"It'll only be a few moments before I join you. Please, ser." It was not a request. Her knight left after another second and closed the door. After Jon was sure he left, he placed a hand on Dany's belly.

"I'll heal you now before I leave." His hand was alight with energy, and his Queen hummed pleasantly, almost moaning.

"I can feel it. It's so warm... and kind. I did not think kindness could be felt like this." She breathed, eyes closed. A few seconds and he detected no more damage.

"Compassion and love are the basis for this kind of magic." His arms wrapped around her middle pulling her closer to him, hands at the small of her back. In return, her hands were back on his face, fingers weaving through his bristly whiskers. Their bodies fit together so perfectly even right now.

"No wonder you're so good at it. You're very loving." He felt his ears redden a touch at her sweet words.

"You're easy to love." He replied softly, making her cheeks flush pleasantly in turn. He felt a frown come on his face, "Dany, you know I'm not-"

"I know. To be honest, neither am I. Not yet. Not after... everything. And you're right, we've only just met today, but... Be with me?" Her face was moving closer to his, a silent question unasked.

"Always." He answered to both as his lips locked with her's. For a minute, that's all they did. Just kiss. The feel of her soft plump rose petal lips against his own. It wasn't just heated and passionate, but also slow and loving. Soon though, that changed. Quietly pleasant breathing turned to breathless gasping as their jaws opened and their tongues clashed and caressed one another in the lip lock. The passion of their mouths dancing against one another made their heads move back and forth with the rhythm of their tongues. He delighted in her pleased breaths and sighs just as much as she did in his. Soon enough, their hands moved, joining in the dance, with one mirroring the other moving towards her brilliant silver hair and his dark curls, while the other went lower towards her arse while her's tightly gripped the back of his shirt between his shoulders. His fingers gently sank into her tight round cheek, kneading it slowly, before its twin moved down from her hair to join in with the other cheek. With a pleasured sigh, Dany's hands moved to wrap around his neck, lifting one of her legs and hooked it around Jon's hip before leaping up and hooking the other one, locking both ankles behind his back. In turn, Jon's hands held her up just between her thighs and hindquarters, fingers still kneading.

Then Dany began moving her hips, undulating and gyrating her sweet mound against him. Jon responded by grinding his clothed prick against her, the clothing adding a delicious friction for the two, the heat of each other still felt in spite of the garments, causing the two of them to moan into one another. Their lips remained locked together, tongues still swirling together in their dance as they kept this up, with their movements becoming more insistent as time passed. Soon though, Dany broke the kiss, gasping as her fingers frantically moved toward the front of her dress. She opened it enough for a single breast to show. Jon admired it for a second. It wasn't too large or small. It was firm and free of any blemish with a dusky red nipple that told him it was full of sweet nectar.

Without any prompting, his lips closed around it, teeth gently biting and pulling then swirling his tongue as he sucked. Dany held his head to it, fingers digging into his scalp and shoulder respectfully, her pants shaky and arousing. Then he tasted it. Sweet mother's milk. Her milk. Drinking it only spurred him on as his fingers began to clench her arse cheeks. This prompted her to tilt her head back and gasp in relieved pleasure as the ache in her breast was steadily removed before moving her hips more. Her hand moved once more to her dress and revealed her other breast, both now spilled out of the front. Jon's mouth released the first teat before latching onto the next making Dany almost cry out in relief as he drank from her breasts. Unbeknownst to either of them, they both imagined a dark haired babe at her breast doing this and wished they'd allowed themselves more time to make that a reality, but remembered everything else.

All they could do right now was lovingly fall into the moment and enjoy it.

And they did as time lost meaning with him hugging her writhing body against his. Soon though their time ran out, and with the wave of release coming unto them, Dany's fingers pulled Jon's head back, hair stinging his scalp, and their tongues engaged in one final passionate rondo, hips still grinding desperately against one another as the wave finally crested over them. Jon choked a rough gasp while Dany let out a strangled whimper as the two froze and their hands trembled, fingers digging painfully yet sweetly into their flesh, letting the pleasure wash over them, panting into the other's mouth. After a few seconds, Dany rested her forehead against his, their noses touching each other. They stood there for a few precious moments, bathing in the afterglow. Eventually, he let her down to stand on the stone floor, but she still held onto him which was perfectly fine with him. Even as her feet met the floor, their foreheads and noses did not part. Jon nuzzled hers gently. His silent way of saying I Love You. Dany responded with a loving, almost chaste, kiss. Her silent way of saying I Love You Too.

The two just stood there still embracing the other as they opened their eyes and stared into one another. For one more moment, they just let themselves be. Be together, be at peace, be happy. And then they heard Ser Jorah's footsteps approaching. Dany quickly got her dress in order, tucking her breasts behind the fabric with Jon helping to smoothing it down, before he stepped back as the door opened. Jon ended up realizing how awkward it was to speak to another man while having made a mess in his own trousers. He had no idea how Dany was able to keep a straight face about it.

Finally though, he left, making sure to leave Longclaw in Jorah's hands before telling Dany, "Till next time, my Queen. I love you." And then he Fast Traveled back home. He needed to get a change of clothes before resuming his hunt for Drakhan.

---

While sailing in the dead of night, on the waters of the Summer Sea, Daenerys Targaryen lay awake in her cabin. She found herself unable to sleep soundly, thoughts muddled with memories she had not experienced and thoughts of a recently met nephew. A nephew that loved her, as both kin and a woman, but was torn between his nature as a Targaryen and his values as a Stark.

Jon was a... complicated case. There was not a doubt in her mind that he genuinely loves her. She'd felt that when he shared his memories with her. The act itself had been partially meant to dissuade her from ever being near him as much as enlighten her, to prevent any chance of them growing closer. It failed. Jon showing her everything merely reinforced a truth she desperately needed: that there was someone out there who would always love her for her, not her dragons, or her name, or anything else, no matter what. Instead of pushing her away, Dany had gotten a good look at herself through Jon's eyes... and a very painful look at how he felt when their relationship had tragically ended.

It was terrible to find out that the words heard in the House of the Undying, and the events in her dreams, were true in a way.

And it was excruciating to experience Jon's thoughts and feelings through it all.

When her own memories and point-of-view surfaced, especially during the betrayal, she'd felt it. For just a moment, that dark nasty piece of her that always rose up when she truly saw something she could not stand appeared. That piece she dubbed the Dragon, roared and hissed, wanting Jon to burn or be torn apart by her children. It was the part that made her strike him.

But that part of her was silenced instantly when she felt his anguish over it. The sheer pain of it made her want to weep even now, hours after experiencing it. Jon had immediately hated himself over it, and when Drogon had come in, what fear he felt left as he accepted his death with a relieved calm that still shook her. How could anyone welcome death like that? The answer to her question was as singular as it was resounding.

'It's what I deserve.' The thought had come across during the memory, as well as others.

Queenslayer

Oath-breaker

Kinslayer

Thrice-damned

All four of these terrible names, spawned not by his enemies, but by his own mind. All horribly appropriate, and he'd forever carry them like brands burnt onto his very soul. And then when his actual fate came to be, with Drogon instead melting the Iron Throne and him exiled to the Wall, Jon accepted that he would not die, but instead live with the pain. No... that was wrong. He had resolved to exist. He would not live, not after what he'd done. Jon had been firmly determined to not know any real joy any further. He would not experience happiness, or love, ever again. He would simply keep moving until his body finally gave out and died.

As far as Jon was concerned... his soul had died with her.

In the face of such sheer emptiness, even the dragon raging inside her had stilled in shock. The truth had been blatantly clear: Even she, the woman he betrayed and murdered, could not hate Jon Snow as much as he hated himself over the act.

Wanting to get away from those awful feelings, she instead looked over the other memories he had shown, and she felt those too. The horror at the reveal of his parentage, the worry of what it would do to them, and the sting of betrayal from the man he'd idolized since he was a small boy. The fury over his life being a lie. When he had tried to continue their relationship, but couldn't, she'd accused him of disgust towards them. She had been wrong. Oh, there was disgust present, though it was not directed at her, never at her, or even them really.

It was at himself.

He disgusted himself because he wanted her in a way he was raised to believe was wrong. Jon was disgusted by the fact that his blood sang for her with such keening want that all he wanted to do was embrace her with everything he was and never let go. And most of all... he was disgusted with himself because he could not overcome it when she desperately needed him the most. Jon felt responsible for her fall and her actions at King's Landing. Perhaps in a way he was. Dany shook her head at that thought. Her sins were not his and those sins would not be her's this time! She swore it to herself.

She looked at their first meeting. It was enlightening to see it from his viewpoint as well as her own. The attraction had been mutual from the moment they met in the throne room. She'd found him more handsome than any man she'd seen before, and his voice, soft spoken with that thick northern accent, had been alluring and soothing despite the passion he obviously held. His defiance of her only added to her growing interest. He was not spineless or meek, but reserved and quiet, as opposed to the boastfulness she was used to. When the older man, Ser Davos, had spoken of Jon's achievements, instead of standing tall with pride, he was humble, viewing them more as milestones than honors.

That had been a big difference between not just Jon and other men she met, but herself as well. When Missandei, her best friend whom she was going to save as soon as she could, had proclaimed her titles to Jon and Ser Davos, she'd felt pride, reveled in her achievements, carried them like trophies... the fact that she carried her accolades while Jon let his lie in the past highlighted the contrast between them: While both of them saved people, she celebrated it. Jon merely allowed a few moments to savor it before moving on to the next problem.

It made her feel small. Like Jon was a true hero and she was not despite apparently freeing thousands of people from bondage and improving their lives.

Yet...

In turn, Jon viewed her in a way she was not used to. He had heard rumors about her being the most beautiful woman in the world. He found them to be false. Jon had found her to be the most beautiful woman who had ever lived. Beautiful, gorgeous, divine. These were just some of the words that flitted through his head when he saw her. Her bright silver hair and vivid violet eyes, a combination he had never seen before, were so captivating that he found himself unable to look at anyone else but her. She put the stars and moon to shame with her coloring alone, yet there was more that captivated him. She cut a rather delightful figure in her regal attire. Poised and graceful, with a voice alluring yet dismissed the notion that she was fragile and delicate. A true queen.

He had to fight not to give in to her every time they spoke, especially in the cave. Jon actively tried to avoid the pull he felt to her just as she tried to do the same. They may not have been aware of their shared blood, but their bodies may very well have given how badly they wanted each other.

Then she remembered the hunt for the wight. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do and they both knew that, but Jon had not seen any other choice. And then when he had seen her flying in to save them, his affection for her reached new heights. And when the Night King struck down Viserion... Dany's mood plummeted as fear clenched her heart. She bolted up to look at her dragons who perched on a nearby table. All three were there; still small, still adorable, still alive. Seeing her children there gave her the courage to look back at the memory. She had been in horrified shock at seeing her son, her strong brave son whom she'd thought nigh invincible be laid low so quickly. From Jon's point of view, he'd been nearly as shocked, but seeing her face as her child fell from the air screaming brought another feeling that had welled up in him to combat it: Rage. Rage burning in him fought off the cold. Rage burned away his fatigue at seeing the gorgeous beast that was Viserion be snuffed out. Rage burned in him at realizing that in calling for her help, he'd enabled this to happen. And finally... rage towards the Night King for hurting her like this.

The two wights who tried to attack him were barely recognized as he cut them down. Pests, his mind had supplied. When Jon stared at the Night King, he was fully ready to face him in combat. There was not a single doubt in his mind of how the fight would turn out. It didn't matter if the Night King had an army. It did not matter if he had several other White Walkers around him. It did not matter if he was better than all of them. Jon was going to cut him down for putting that expression on his Queen's face. It was only noticing the walker behind his enemy that he realized who the next target was. He knew he wouldn't make it even as he began running, he needed her to get out of there or all would be lost, including her.

Dany felt a bittersweet burst of love as she reviewed that memory. When she thought she had lost him and he had returned, when she found out the truth of Ser Davos's words, she knew she loved him. She continued to review all the other memories from when he realized he was in love with her when he bent the knee to when they sailed together that first night. Jon had been so nervous. She had been too, but she was equally eager with anticipation. Her hands moved along her body as she remembered the details of that night. The memories of both Jon and her own burned into her mind. She never really knew what it was like to be with a woman before until Jon shared his memories of Ygritte and when they got to her, Dany could fully admit she was interested now that she could find pleasure in it. One hand kneaded a breast while the other moved towards her core. It was already so wet, weeping for him.

She wished she had fought harder for him to stay with her a bit longer, but she was able to sense him pushing himself to be with her as they had been earlier. Ever since he had shown her his vision, glimpses of a future that was so real to him, being able to feel as he did, sensing his thoughts and conclusions made Dany feel that she knew Jon better than anyone else in the world. In showing her the vision in its entirety, Jon had enabled Dany to know him. Truly know him. It was how she was able to sense his disapproval without looking at him despite him not making a sound. It was how she knew just what to say to excite him while her own memories provided a helpful guide, a thread to follow. And while she could not say she read his mind like an open book, she could say she had an awareness of what he might do or approve of.

Her fingers kept toying with her pearl and lower lips, becoming slick and wet until she could hear it: the slippery noises of her fingers going in and out. Her body felt as if it were on fire as the noises reminded her of the sounds that Jon made when he pleasured her on the boat. Whenever they were together, whether in bed or hidden away in some dark corner, Jon found time to pleasure her with his tongue. His memories of being aroused by the whimpers and muffled whines she made mixed with her own perspective inflamed her current titillation.

She bit her lips in an effort to hold back the moan that was clawing to escape. Upon realizing it was a losing battle she turned over and lay face first into the pillow, biting it while her hips bucked up. Her fingers kept up their teasing of her core as she moaned, but they were a poor substitute for what she wanted. She wanted Jon. His hands, his tongue, his cock. When he was with her, he used everything to drive her to the edge again and again. It was more than Drogo before or after she took control of their relationship. Jon could be both primal and loving, switching between the two while Drogo had mostly been primal. Dany could vaguely recall having a lover that she eventually left in Essos when she came to Westeros, but if what her own memories provided were any indication, the man fell short in comparison to Jon. Not in size, she thinks, but in everything else. She can vaguely recall the lover being fun, but... that was it. She was in full control yet he wasn't giving... not the way Jon was. And Jon could be dominating when he wanted to be, much to her delighted surprise, but he could easily let her take control if he wanted to.

That was the difference between Jon and the others; With him it was give and take leaning towards give while with the others it was just take.

Her thoughts drifted with the pleasure as she focused on both how her and Jon had been perfect reflections of each other. Every kiss, every lick, every delicious stroke of skin against skin pushed one another further and further. She'd been particularly delighted, and aroused, that they had the same thoughts every time they came undone with him spilling into her both wishing for his seed to take root. Those thoughts moved to when he had his children with Val something which ignited anger in her as well as further aroused her.

She was grateful to the woman for dragging Jon out of the pit he cast himself into after killing her, but seeing her be with him, having a family with him, ruling by his side angered her in a way she was not used to. It should have been her by his side through it all. In regards to the children... Dany did not hate them. If anything she thought they were beautiful and dearly wished they had been her's. But they were not, nor would they be now that Jon was changing things.

She was aware that Jon had met both Ygritte and Val already and that he had shared memories with them too, but unlike her, he had refused any attempts to be with them. A small part of Dany was territorial regarding the women who were trying to have Jon, but having seen them through Jon's eyes, she was interested in meeting them to... talk. Val especially. Out of the other two women Jon had been with, Dany felt Val was the only one who could actually rival her when it came to Jon's heart. Like Arianne Martell, Val was beautiful and buxom, but unlike Arianne, the blonde Free Woman was very capable in ways most women weren't. Dany herself included. Something which caught Jon's interest and now her's too.

Val was strong and fierce, and capable both in a fight as well as at court... and seeing a woman so strong be dominated by Jon, to watch as he took her on the furs in their tent, to feel him repeatedly plunge into her depths over and over, to hear her beg him to bear his children, and to watch as he marked her as his, knowing he had put his child in her gave Dany a foreign sense of pleasure and satisfaction. Val might be a rival, yet through her, the blood of House Targaryen would have continued through her six children with Jon who all went on to have their own children. Another thing Dany was grateful for.

She was feeling her pleasure crest once more as she came to her knees, her arse up in the air. She imagined Jon taking her from behind, a thought that did not make her tense in fear as it would have with anyone else. She imagined Val being there beside her, watching while only having Jon's fingers in her cunt instead of his cock. She imagined Ygritte was there on her other side preoccupied with his other hand, mewling like she had when Jon first pleasured her with his tongue.

Suddenly it was as if a dam burst as more obscene thoughts flowed into her mind: Arianne Martell with her back against Jon's chest while on the floor, his hands on her hips as he slammed into her roughly, one of her massive teats bouncing and jiggling wildly while the other had Dany's mouth latched onto it as her fingers teased the Dornish Princess's nub, making her cry out like a bitch in heat. She imagined Jon bouncing an older Myrcella up and down in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist with Dany just behind her playing with her modest breasts and kissing her hungrily. The image of Margaery Tyrell, her pretty dress ripped open with her tits spilled out and bouncing, thighs rippling as Jon plowed into her while Dany rode her face, Jon latched onto one of her breasts while holding one of the Tyrell girl's legs back for further penetration. She even imagined Sansa Stark, a young woman she felt some anger towards for some reason, utterly debauched as Jon took her from behind, writhing on top of Dany who dominated her with her mouth despite their positions.

She imagined all of them as well as herself begging Jon to spill into them, to seed them, so they can bear his sons and daughters, his princes and princesses, his pups and cubs. She imagined him doing it, growling as he unloaded into each of them, them crying out in ecstasy as the warmth filled them to the brim with the knowledge that they had been bred with the child of a dragon. That was the final thought she had before Dany fell off the edge and into sweet bliss, crying out into her pillow.

When she finally settled back down and cleaned herself before switching to a clean pair of drawers, still sweaty and getting her breathing under control, she turned over to the side of her bed to look at Dark Sister. The guard and pommel glinted moonlight from the window. She thought of everything else that had happened in the House of the Undying. The Night King. Drakhan. Monsters who were each extremely difficult to fight alone and Jon was up against both. Not to mention the Seven Kingdoms at war. Jon had a lot on his plate. The future of the world, much less House Targaryen, was at stake if Pyat Pree's final words were to be believed and given how Jon hinted at rising magical affinities and how they may affect fertility rates, Westeros was looking at an uncertain future. She thought of the Iron Throne and what she wanted, what happened at the end and what she understood of how it would or could mean to her.

In seeing all of those who sat on the Iron Throne, only to die, she knew they were not meant to sit in it.

In those who had reached it, but walked away due to Jon's urging, she knew they would live and have a part to play later, possibly uniting under House Targaryen or perhaps Jon's banner.

In sitting on the throne herself, she knew she could achieve it.

By being hurt by the Iron Throne, she realized she was no better than anyone else who reached for it. It would destroy her no matter her cause.

By being saved by Jon and him denying it in favor of her, she realized that there was someone who cared more about her than power of any sort.

In Jon being thrown onto that same seat by his enemy then surviving to strike them down, it meant that only he could sit in the throne and only then could he defeat them.

In Jon destroying the Throne, the throne of their ancestors, and everyone wearing a crown, she thinks it must mean that Jon will reshape the Seven Kingdoms as he sees fit. She hopes it is for the better.

She considers going after the throne one last time... and lets it go without any remorse or guilt. The path to power would destroy her. She'd realized that as a possibility before entering the House of the Undying. To see what it would do to Jon through her, however, had been the dealbreaker. If a Targaryen must sit on the Iron Throne to face the evil coming towards them then it will be Jon. Daenerys will follow the path she can vaguely recall when she saw Ser Jorah upon exiting the tower. She will go to Astapor and save her friend Missandei and the Unsullied. She will go to Yunkai and become the Breaker of Chains. She will go to Mereen and give it the Queen it deserves. When her dragons are finally big enough she will make the Dothraki kneel to her again. And when she is ready, she will sail to Westeros... to Dragonstone... to Jon.

She realized she was drifting off to sleep as she thought of her future plans.

If Jon was not King by the time she arrived then she would make him King. And after the monsters are defeated and they break the wheel together... then they can focus on rebuilding. Then she can focus on securing House Targaryen's future in both name and blood...

...as she bears pure Targaryen children with Jon even as the blood of the dragon is forever joined and immortalized within the Great Houses of Westeros themselves.

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A/N: Okay to address any problems given by character ages let me spell it out: While I am using Book characteristics i.e violet and grey eyes; I envision them by Show ages. Given the timing of it all and considering Dany would have seen them at different points in the series... this would have been their ages:

Jon: Given that this happens roughly around the end of season 2 which is 299 AC and he was born in 281 AC, he's at minimum 18 going on 19. The timeline is screwy for me.

Daenerys: Same thing with Jon though born in 282 AC so 17 probably going on 18. I like to believe Jon was born later in the previous year while she was born earlier in the following year so let's just say they are both 18.

Arianne: Given that she wasn't in the show, I'm leaving her birthday in the year 276 AC which makes her around 23 at this point.

Margaery: Since its implied she's going after Tommen in the vision she's more or less at Season 5 so that puts her at... I want to say 19 going on 20 since I can't find her show age but her book age puts her birth at 283 AC.

Myrcella: Using the show age which clocked her at 19 upon her death and since the Faith Militant happened in Season 5, the same season she died in, I'm going with that.

Sansa: For those of you who noticed the Stark siblings were in their Finale outfits, good job. That puts Sansa at about 20 in the vision.

Val: Can't find any year for her so I'd put her... maybe a couple years older than Jon? I'll do two years or three putting her around 20 to 21 at this point in time.

Ygritte: Using her book age which puts her at a year over Jon so 18 or 19 by 299 AC.

Thoughts on A Re-Union of Ice and Fire:
Given by the chapter title it was obvious from the get-go that Jon and Daenerys were going to be meeting in this chapter. It actually took me a while to figure out how, why, when, and where they would meet. I immediately discounted Dragonstone as that was too late in the game for me, I considered Mereen, but could not think of a solid answer as to why Jon would be there aside to see her which at that point he could do so with the Three-Eyed Raven. Same thing with the rest of Slaver's Bay. It wasn't until I pored over the defunct mobile game wiki of GOT Ascent that I realized I could use the HotU and Drakhan could be the one to lure Jon in.

With what happens inside the vision, I wanted to play with how both Jon as the Gamer and Drakhan as the Adversary would influence it by just being there. From my point of view Drakhan is a sadistic monster who thinks suffering is a fun game and takes what Daenerys is going to see (her future, their past) and torture both her and Jon with it. He knows Daenerys is a good person at her core, he knows deep down she is afraid of becoming like her brother, and uses that to hurt her. In regards to Jon, Drakhan is petty and has hated Jon since he is the only person in thousands of years to actually hurt him, he wants to make Jon suffer in the worst way possible. What better way to make a good man suffer than to relive his greatest regret? It's when Jon starts to actually resist that we see Drakhan start to be a little anxious and he influences the vision to now see a different future, one that is already in the process of happening. This becomes all the more apparent when we see that Jon has not been idle with learning his magical abilities. His influence is obvious when he not only breaks free of Drakhan's control, but protects Daenerys from him too. That represents Jon has changed that future already; that he can and will protect Dany from the Darkness.

As the vision continues, we see multiple things at play: the first being Jon and Drakhan are doing the classic angel and devil routine for Daenerys, but at the same time Daenerys doesn't do much until it's her time. What is less obvious to see is Jon and Drakhan influencing the vision which can be interpreted as both of them trying to wrest control of the future from one another. On Jon's part, he doesn't try at first given that the first people in line are people he doesn't care for at all. It's not until Tommen that Jon begins to see that he can influence the vision and once he sees that he puts in what he can in trying to save who he thinks deserves to be saved or at least doesn't deserve death.

The whole throne thing is something I was inspired by from GOT Ascent only I expanded on it. There is a lot of symbolism there that's clear from the start. Every single person there is someone who has a real chance to end up on the throne due to Jon and Drakhan's influence, whether they are innocent or guilty. Whenever someone sat on the throne, it would always have something added onto it before they were killed. I prefer to think of this as their families, their beliefs, their drive, etc. would drape the throne and eventually destroy them. This is more poignant with Daenerys the instant she doubts Jon and hearkens back to the show when things began to fall apart for them.

Ultimately the struggle is pushed to the climax as there does have to be someone on the Iron Throne or disaster happens as evident by the White Walkers showing up. Jon, even though he realizes this is more or less an illusion, it's an illusion that is backed by an eldritch horror with a grudge against him and he gets hurt. Its not until we see Daenerys willing to give up the throne for his sake that Jon survives it unlike everyone else as the throne would have killed Daenerys though it wouldn't have killed Jon as he doesn't want it, the pain however is a different story. It's only when Jon accepts the crown, and everyone supports him, does acquire the power necessary to not only kill the Night King this time around, but also Drakhan. Jon shattering the throne is pretty self-explanatory as Jon has never wanted to be king, but he knows he can't leave it to just anyone so when Daenerys sees a crown on everyone's heads it can mean that Jon makes everyone the ruler of Westeros.

Regarding the relationship between Jon and Daenerys, I wanted to ramp it up a bit by allowing Daenerys to have had a recurring dragon dream about Jon, primarily on her death. She doesn't have any real context beyond her almost having the throne and him killing her before it. So when she meets him, she is immediately confronted by what she sees as this monster come to kill her when she feels she is at her most vulnerable with her dragons having been taken from her. It is when Drakhan begins his torture that she starts to realize that Jon is not the monster she thought he was and is given context that something went very wrong with what she saw. As she continues to listen, she starts getting these big hints that Jon is a Targaryen, or at least has Targaryen blood. She latches onto this and is largely happy for it despite the fact that Jon is technically a threat to her claim, but at this point in time, she hasn't really begun to invest herself into going after the Throne yet at the same time she has been raised to want the throne by Viserys which rears its head in the latter half. As the vision goes on, she beings to see that Jon is not only not the monster she thought him to be, he is a legitimately good person worth knowing and having around, she even entertains the idea of having him as a lover all while she rules from the throne.

When she finally does sit on it, that's when things take a drastic turn as Daenerys takes to mean that not only is she unworthy when she is burned by the throne, she is so unworthy that it it rejects her by not giving her a crown. This crushes her as the belief that the throne was hers or at least her family's has been a cornerstone of her identity up until this point. And this is after she began to doubt Jon which causes the pain in the first place. Jon, however, mends this by focusing entirely on her over the throne and is more than ready to leave if it meant saving her. This tells her he is not like her brother, that he does care about her more than power and while she is still not happy about being rejected, she does feel that she is not alone and is valued in a way she's not used to, and that's when she begins to think maybe he should sit on the throne.

When Jon shows her his 'vision' she gets a very good look at who Jon is and how he thinks in addition to everything else and realizes just who he is in almost every sense of the word. When I made the remembering thing, I honestly hadn't thought of Daenerys when it occurred to me. My first thought had been Sam and Tormund if anything as I thought to myself, "Who best to help Jon in dealing with the White Walker's at this point in time?" But I'm glad I did this as now even though Daenerys is aware that yes, Jon killed her and they have to get past that, she is also aware of why he did it, how much he hates himself over it, and his also now aware of her own feelings about him. While she doesn't want to be the Queen of Ashes, and is going to work hard to avoid that, she does still want be Jon's Queen and she does want to pursue a relationship with him and that shows as they start falling into old habits hard.

For Jon, I wanted to try and make it as real as I could get it for him. He obviously loves Daenerys, he is still attracted to her, but I did wish to include some hesitation concerning their family relation. I know some will say, "Oh, he needs to get over it!" It's not that easy to kick something that's been instilled in you since early childhood. Trust me, I know. "Oh, he's had plenty of time!" He has... without her and with another woman. Jon was never taught to be a Targaryen, only a Stark, and now he has to play catch-up for Daenerys's sake.

In regards to the other women in Jon's life, I've decided to make Daenerys a bit of both the show and books self. While she is somewhat attracted to women, as hinted at with her experience with Arianne Martell in the HotU, she has no intention of pursuing it until she sees how Jon views her, Ygritte and Val as he showed her everything he could. A bit of Jon and his feelings rubs on her and causes an awakening of sorts for her. This is coupled with feelings of impending doom as House Targaryen has been teetering on the brink of collapse for her entire life emphasized all the more by what Jon showed her about Drakhan and the Night King and beyond. While their bloodline survived in Jon's children, their Name died with her. So now her new goal is to make sure that not only is House Targaryen secured as the strongest power in Westeros, but that it will never truly die as it lives on in the other Great Houses. That's if her plans succeed.

Okay, still not sure what to make for the next chapter. So many snippets and all that. We'll see.