A/N: Here's Chapter 4 and Jon's second POV chapter! I'd like to thank everyone for the reviews and comments. As a reminder, I started this fic before it became canon that Lyanna and Rhaegar were married before Jon was born. I had always intended on keeping Jon a bastard, although the son of two people who did love one another. Since this story has already veered from that of the show I don't have any intention of changing that. I know that might have been a bit confusing given the events of the show. Please read, enjoy, and review! Thank you! ~Katie

"And so with that I believe our best plan of action is to stay the course," Jon said definitively. "The Night King has not attacked in months. Some Freefolk have returned to their homes North of the Wall. He might know he's outmatched."

"Your grace," Ser Jorah spoke up, addressing his queen when Jon sat down. "The longer we delay in the North, the longer you're away from King's Landing. Surely this is a matter that can now be handled by the Night's Watch and the Warden of the North."

"I will return to King's Landing when we know the Night King is defeated," Dany said evenly. "I will remain in the north, with the King in the North."

Jon's head snapped up to look at Daenerys as a rumble of low voices echoed through the common hall. They had agreed to announce their marriage to the small council, but he did not imagine she would do so in such a way.

"My lords and my friends," Dany said, regaining the attention of the members of the small council. "I have decided to restore the title of King in the North to Jon Snow. I can think of no more appropriate title for my King and husband. I came to Westeros knowing that alliances would be the key to my success in uniting the Seven Kingdoms and to restore peace to our war torn realm. Never did I imagine I would be so fortunate to also find love through such an alliance."

"Your Grace," Davos began rising to his feet. "Allow me to be the first to offer the heartiest of congratulations to you and the King. And if you'll allow me to say so, I think it would be difficult to find one among us who didn't already know that you were fond of each other."

"I will permit it, Ser Davos," Dany replied. "Just this once."

Jorah rose to his feet next and Jon braced himself for what he might say. He had no disdain for the man and though he was certain that Mormont knew of his feelings for Daenerys, Jon knew that the news probably came as a shock to one of her oldest advisors. He also knew that no matter what oaths he and Dany had spoken in front of a Weirwood tree, Jorah would love and serve her until the day he died.

"May the gods bless and keep the both of you," Jorah said raising a cup. "And may we be victorious in battle so that the Seven Kingdoms may see your prosperous reign. To Daenerys Stormborn and the King in the North."

Chairs scraped across the floor as the other members of the small council stood and lifted their cups, toasting Jon and his new wife.

"To Daenerys Stormborn and the King in the North," the room echoed.

XXXXX

"You didn't tell them about the babe," Jon said, latching the door to Dany's room behind him and walking over to where she stood near a taper, using it's glow to illuminate the message in her hand.

"No," she replied over her shoulder, taking her eyes from the parchment she was reading. "Missandei knows anyway and I thought it was enough information for one day. It's still early yet. We'll tell everyone when it becomes noticeable."

"It's noticeable," Jon said, sliding his hand across the small swell of her belly.

"Not yet," she insisted a bit more firmly this time and Jon noticed something change in her eyes when she looked up at him. It lasted for the briefest of moments, but it was there. It was real and it was something he had never seen before. Fear. Of what? he wondered, but could not hope to know and just as quickly as it appeared it was gone again. A softness returned to her eyes and a sly smile played on her lips.

"You notice it because you get to see me like this," she gestured to her simple grey dress. "See me without all of the heavy furs you Northerners must drape yourselves in."

"Aye," he conceded with a nod. He moved closer to her and his warm breath danced across her temple. "And I get to see you in even less than this."

"Jon Snow…"

To anyone else, her tone would have been a warning. To him, it was a challenge. An invitation.

"I believe that's King in the North, isn't it?"

"No," Dany shook her head.

"No?"

"Not King in the North. Not to me. Just my King."

"Your king then," Jon said decidedly. "Always yours."

He tilted her face up to kiss him and she turned in his arms. Jon could feel the the small mound of her stomach as it pressed against him and it made his desire for her grow even more.

"I should be giving orders to ready our things for Winterfell," he said against her lips. "Tell Edd and the brothers of the Watch we're leaving."

"Always duty first," Dany chided him playfully. "I believe your duty is first to your queen, and to your wife."

"And what does my queen and wife desire?"

"You know."

Jon swore her eyes became a deeper shade of purple and he let her easily push him back into a chair. She carefully straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jon was not a selfish man, but he enjoyed knowing that there were sides to Daenerys that were meant only for him to see. His hands moved to her hips and held them tightly, nearly grunting as she ground down against his growing hardness. Leaning forward he captured her lips with his own as he worked quickly to lift her skirt out of the way and free himself from his leather breeches. With a quick thrust he was inside her and Dany sighed into his mouth.

He lifted her hips with ease, setting a frenzied pace as she rode his cock. Her head fell back and he used the opportunity to kiss her neck, sucking at her pulse point and eliciting a breathy moan from her kiss-swollen lips. She was close, he could tell. So much more sensitive now, he thought. He did not pretend to know everything about the changes their child had upon her body, but he knew it did not douse her desire for him. Quite the opposite, really. A month or so from now the position they were in would, no doubt, be impossible. As it was, her belly still fit, albeit snugly, between the two of them as a reminder of their love for one another.

"Jon," Dany gasped as she came, her entire body holding and grasping him so tightly, enveloping him in liquid heat and causing him to jerk involuntarily as he spilled his seed within her. He stopped moving, easing his grip on her hips and wrapping his arms around her frame to keep her close.

He rested his forehead against hers and slowly her breath upon his face became regular enough for him to steal a quick kiss. Her forearms rested on his shoulders as she pushed herself back just enough for them to gaze at one another.

"What was it you were saying you had to do?" Dany asked him.

"Can't remember anymore," Jon shrugged, but he knew he could not stay in her embrace all afternoon. Perhaps someday that might be possible. He remembered something she had said to him not very long ago. She promised him that there would be a day when she would wake up in his arms and would not fear him needing to be gone. Unfortunately, that day had not yet come.

"Come, there's much to be done before we leave tomorrow," she said, patting his leather doublet. "You'd better get to work, Jon Snow."

"I would, but I feel as though I am quite your prisoner right now."

XXXXX

"You're married?" Sansa asked incredulously, looking between Jon and Daenerys and then to Bran. "Did you know about this."

"You know I won't answer that," the younger brother replied.

Jon had honestly expected nothing less from his sister. Telling Daenerys's small council and the brothers of the Night's Watch had been easier than coming home to Winterfell and telling his family. No sooner had their party landed at Winterfell on the backs of Drogon ad Rhaegal than Jon and Daenerys were dining with the Stark siblings while their attendants handled the care of settling themselves in. At the end of the meal Jon bluntly announced the news to Sansa, Arya, and Bran. It was true enough that the Northern lords had all bent the knee to Daenerys. They had fought and died for her in the war against Cersei just as much as any other region of Westeros, but a marriage was different. It was personal and he expected there to be some hard feelings.

"Sansa we came to Winterfell to tell you in person. We didn't want to just send a raven," Jon tried to explain. He knew she was upset, not about who he had wed, but that she and her siblings had not been told about it sooner.

"We could have been there," Arya agreed, though she was clearly less upset. "We could have been there for you or you could have been married here in the Godswood."

"We were married in front of a weirwood tree," Daenerys offered from her seat next to Jon. "And I'm sorry you all had to find out after the fact, but I'm also not sorry. I'm not sorry because I love your brother."

"You love him and yet you selfishly had a marriage ceremony in private with none of his family present," the Lady of Winterfell fumed. "We're at war and yet the two of you decided to have a little wedding in the midst of it?"

"Sansa," Jon started, his voice edged with warning when Daenerys held up a hand for silence and stood from her chair.

"I understand your hurt feelings, my lady sister. We are not so different, you and I. I thought we came to that conclusion the last time I visited you at Winterfell on my way to Castle Black. We have both been a part of marriages that were not of our choosing. We've both experienced the pain and loneliness that comes from that. I love Jon. He is my king of choice and I know how quickly those we love can be taken from us."

Jon watched as his sister's demeanor changed, the icy anger fading away and he was grateful for it. Growing up together, his sister had not always been kind to him. Most days she barely acknowledged him at all. She took after her mother in that way, but that was a lifetime ago. They were both different people, changed and shaped by the experiences they had endured. He could not fault her for the actions she made as a child. For a time, they thought it possible they were the only Starks left. How relieved they were to have been wrong about that.

"We didn't do this to hurt any of you," Jon said looking around at the only siblings he'd ever known. "We wanted to wed, but Sansa is right. We're at war. A celebration wouldn't seem right."

"But there's more," Bran spoke up and Jon realized his brother was holding Dany's gaze. "Isn't there?"

The room was silent as the Three Eyed Raven regarded the Queen of Westeros. Jon often wondered how much his brother knew and just how he came upon that knowledge. The details and magic behind his abilities mystified Jon. He knew that he could look into the past and present, but that the knowledge did not come to him instantaneously. Now it was clear to him that Bran knew that Daenerys was with child. He wanted to tell his family the truth so that they would at least know that much before anyone else, but it was not just his secret to tell. Even as his wife glanced over to him the look he returned reassured her that she could decide when and how to announce their happy news.

"Yes," Dany said, clearing her throat. "There is more. I'm with child."

"How?" Sansa asked. "When we spoke the last time you were here…"

"Sansa if you don't know how that happens then you've got a lot to learn," Arya quipped.

"Shut up."

"Both of you stop," Jon interjected. "To answer your question, we don't know. My best guess is that the maegi who told Daenerys that lied to her out of spite. Nevertheless, the child is coming."

"When?" Sansa asked.

"In a little less than four month's time," Dany replied.

"No wonder you passed on the fish at supper."

"Yes, some food doesn't sit well with me now. Just ask Jon."

"I can certainly attest to that," he replied with a knowing grin.

"We are happy for you," Arya offered. "For the both of you. And I for one pledge to do anything I can to protect Daenerys and her child."

"Thank you, Arya. Our last scouting mission North of the Wall didn't provide us with much new information about the Night King's whereabouts."

"You think he's fled back into the Land of Always Winter?"

"Possibly. Or he's waiting and biding his time."

"Are you on your way back to King's Landing?" Sansa asked Daenerys.

"No," the queen shook her head. "This trip was solely to tell you of our marriage. I have no intention of leaving the North until the Night King is defeated."

"Dany has agreed that if we perceive the situation to be increasingly dangerous she will come to Winterfell."

"Winterfell is yours, your Grace," Sansa said "Whenever you have need of it, for as long as you have need of it."

XXXXX

Tucked inside the walls of Winterfell, Jon could almost forget there was a war going on. Almost. He could scarcely remember a time when the air was not clipped with cold. Even inside Dany's chambers at Castle Black, all hung with cloth and fabrics from Essos there was no real or lasting warmth. When they would wake each morning and the fire had died out, the cold reclaimed and filled every void.

Winterfell was different. The hot springs it was built upon meant that warm water was piped through the walls and chambers alike. Their journey from the Wall had not been overly long, but it was bitterly cold. He thought Dany would almost leap for joy when Sansa suggested a warm bath to chase the chill from her bones. He was less than surprised to find her already curled up in bed asleep, not even the sound of the heavy wood door closing behind him had awakened her.

In the glow of the fire and candlelight Daenerys was ethereal. He never would have thought that the Dragon Queen who spent most of her life in Essos could look so at home at Winterfell and so, dare her say, at peace.

Jon lived for moments like this. For Dany, winning the war against the Night King meant being able to truly begin her rule. He did not fault her that. For Jon, however, defeating the Night King meant being able to start his life. It was true that the Red Priestess had raised him from the dead, but Daenerys had brought him back to life. As he watched her sleep, taking in the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders, he noticed the way she lovingly cradled the new life within her, the life they had created against all odds.

In different ways, they had both thought the notion of bringing a child into the world was impossible. Dany believed the words of the witch held real power. Perhaps they did, perhaps they did not. Who was he to tell? For his part, Jon had taken an oath, a solemn vow pledging to take no wives and father no sons. Well here we are, he thought as he tucked a strand of hair behind his wife's ear. Every day the words of Maester Aemon echoed through his head. What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? He had loved before, it was true, and he had never expected to fall in love again especially after his death and resurrection. He had told the Red Woman not to bring him back if he fell again and now he could not imagine leaving everything he had gained behind. He would do anything to always stand beside Daenerys and ensure that she held their child in her arms.

Growing up, he had no ambition to rule, no desire for power or even to be a great lord. He wanted to prove his worth. To prove that being a bastard did not matter. Now, he had tasted it all. Power and strength. He was made a Lord Commander and a King. He was good at it, but it was not something he asked for or wanted, but he would readily rule beside Daenerys if that was what she asked of him. They complimented one another well. His wife ruled impulsively at times, thinking first with her heart, rather than her head. Jon was logical and thorough if nothing else and somehow even from the very early days of their alliance Dany would listen to and heed Jon's advice. Maybe we're meant to rule together, he thought.

Try as he might to resist it, Jon could not help but believe that fate played a role in bringing him and Daenerys together. After all, they had both endured so much to be where they were now. He remembered the day she told him about her brother practically selling her off to Drogo, how they had both hurt her, but how she grew to love her husband in the end. He thought of Ygritte. He was not supposed to fall in love with her. He had never meant to and yet he did. Part of Jon hated Drogo, not because Dany had loved him first, but because he knew Dany was still haunted by the choices she made which ultimately cost her the life of her son. It was much easier for Jon to blame Drogo.

He reached out a hand and gently placed it just above hers on her stomach. She had told him that she could feel their child move within her, though he had yet to be able to feel it for himself.

"Your son is sleeping," Dany murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "Just as your wife is trying to do. How long are you going to sit there staring at me?"

"I'm sorry. I thought you were fast asleep," Jon said and made to move his hand, but Daenerys held it in place as she rolled on her back.

"Leave it. Maybe if he knows I'm awake he'll move for you."

"He?"

"What?"

"First you said, your son and then you called it a he."

"Oh," Dany smiled and rubbed at her eyes. "Call it my intuition, but I think it will be a boy."

"Not a girl as fierce as her mother?"

"A boy this time. A girl next time."

"Next time?"

"Don't you want more children? Don't you dream of it?"

"Honestly?" Jon asked, taking a deep breath and lying down next to her. "Sometimes, all I can think about is ending this war. Before I was in the Watch I didn't think about having a child because I didn't want to father a bastard like me. My father loved me, but I can't say I lived an easy life. Then, when I was in the Watch there wasn't much to think about. So, you see, I never really allowed myself to believe I'd have a child, let alone more than one. But...if I had to think upon it, I'd say yes. I want our boy to have sisters as beautiful as his mother and maybe a little brother, too."

"Our little dynasty," Dany mused, letting her fingers absentmindedly play with Jon's beard. "After Rhaego, I spent so long thinking this was impossible, but that didn't stop me from dreaming of it. Now I know it's possible. My dreams can come true. When I was a little girl I didn't dream of sitting on the Iron Throne."

"No?" Jon chortled, pulling her closer and resting his chin atop her head.

"Quite the opposite. I had an elder brother who would have been king. Maybe I would have married him, but I certainly didn't dream of that either. I wanted a home. A family. Now I have both."

"Hopefully sooner rather than later you'll be able to return home to King's Landing."

"King's Landing isn't my home," Dany shook her head. "I think I realized it the night you returned from your scouting mission, when I told you I was pregnant, that I realized home isn't a place. It's a feeling. I feel home with you, Jon."

He dipped his head and kissed her gently.

"These wars have taken so much from so many and yet...in a strange way they've changed my life so much. What is it about tragedies that bring people together? Growing up I was close with Robb and with Arya. Even with Bran, but not with Sansa."

"Was she cruel to you?"

"She just never paid me any attention. She's very much like her mother. She never treated me like Robb, Bran, or Rickon. She just didn't care. We've all grown and changed in a short time. We're a closer family now."

"I know you would do anything for them, to protect them."

"Arya doesn't need protecting anymore."

"You know what I mean."

"Aye," Jon smiled. "And I'd do anything to protect you, whether you need it or not."

"I know," Dany nodded.

"No, you don't. Now more than ever we need to end this war. The Night King must be defeated. He's waiting for us to leave, I know he is. The moment we pull back from the North and leave it unguarded he'll attack and try to rebuild his army. He's nearly alone, but he's no less dangerous."

"What are you saying?"

"I want to go back North of the Wall. I want to find him and kill him. I want to end this."

Daenerys was silent for a few beats, no doubt processing everything Jon had just said.

"Alright," she said at length. "We'll return to Castle Black, raise our army, take the dragons and fly north to-."

"No, Dany," Jon interrupted. "Not we."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not coming with me."

"Jon," she pulled away from him and he felt the full force of her gaze upon him.

"Dany, listen to me."

He reached for her but she pulled away even further, pushing herself from under the covers and off the bed. Her sudden movements caused Ghost to stir at the foot of the bed and lift his head.

"No. You listen. I will not let you do this alone. These are my people. This is my country. I have to fight for them."

"You're right," Jon conceded, standing on the opposite side of the bed. "This is your country. These are your people and you need to be alive to lead them."

"If you plan to take Drogon, you'll need me."

"I plan to take Rhaegal. You might have use of Drogon. If I fall-."

"Don't!" Dany began, her voice rising as she held up a shaking finger to silence him. "Don't you dare."

Jon slowly walked around the bed and stood in front of her. Barefoot, with her silver-blonde hair cascading in unbraided waves over her shoulders , and in her lilac nightdress she looked vulnerable, scared. He could tell that his words had wounded her, perhaps even frightened her. He held out his hand and patiently waited until she reluctantly offered her own in return.

"If I fall," he said softly, lacing their fingers together. "Take Drogon and go to Dragonstone. That's your best chance. All would not be lost. So long as you're alive and safe and our child is alive and safe there is a chance."

"I would be lost."

"No, you wouldn't be. You'd only be lost if you didn't go on. You don't need saving Daenerys. You never have and I doubt you ever will.

Dany pulled him close and wrapped her arms tightly around him. After a few moments he felt her nod against his chest.

"Very well," she finally said, her voice choked with reluctance. "But you won't fall. You can't. As your queen, I forbid it."

"Well then, Jon replied, tilting her chin up to meet her gaze. "I live to serve you, my Queen."