DAENERYS

Dany woke to the gentle rolling of the boat. The first thing she became noticably aware of was something very hard pressed between her thighs and a strong chest at her back.

She smiled softly.

Jon.

She snuggled closer to him and he shifted, pulling her tighter and letting out a deep sigh.

Jon.

She had never woken up with a man before. Drogo had always left her tent sometime in the middle of the night, and she had almost always sent Daario away after they were done.

This was a nice change.

He really felt like he was here to stay.

Jon.

For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. She'd had a dreamless night. No visons of death. No dead, scaly babies. No terrifying sights of her child falling through the air.

She had needed a good nights sleep.

She felt clear-headed and strong.

She twisted around to bury her face in Jon's chest and inhaled his scent deeply, wrapping her leg around his hips.

He stirred and opened his eyes sleepily at her.

"Good morning," he said groggily.

"Good morning," she responded, a smile pulling at her lips.

His hand came up from her waist to stroke her hair.

"How did you sleep?" he murmered.

"Wonderfully," she whispered, breathless. "And you?"

She saw a flicker of something on his face, but it quickly faded.

"Finally had a peaceful night," he said.

She remembered suddenly.

"What happened? Last night you left to go make water, and then you came back and you..."

His face fell.

"I ran into Tyrion."

She suddenly turned to stone.

"And?" she said, a note of regality finding a way back into her voice. She hadn't realized how soft her voice had turned when she spoke to him alone. How vulnerable.

Jon sighed. Looked away. Then looked back at her.

"He knows."

Daenerys suddenly felt very betrayed. Her heart turned to ice.

"I didn't tell him, before you ask. He worked it out by himself."

"How?" she asked coldly.

"I don't know, I didn't ask. It's not what matters-"

"Not what matters?" she pulled away from him, cold, and sat up on the bed. Jon's face fell.

"Daenerys," he said softly. She refused to look at him. He must have given it away somehow, betrayed her, and she didn't want everyone to know yet. She wanted to enjoy this short time they had together on this boat. She felt hurt that he would let Tyrion-of all people-in on this secret. He would find someway to use it, and she didn't want her love for Jon to be used.

He reached up to cup her chin. Gently turned her head to look into his eyes. She felt herself melt-but only slightly.

"He thinks we should get married."

Her mouth fell open. She bristled. How dare he-?

"So do I," said Jon firmly.

Daenerys sat stunned.

How dare he. How dare both of them. Conspire about her fate behind her back like she didn't exist. Like her opinion didn't matter. She was the Queen. She made the descions, not Tyrion Lannister, not Jon Snow.

It didn't matter that she had been thinking it, too. Had thought about it. Knew it was the logical course. Suddenly she felt very much like a helpless little girl again, being sold off to the highest bidder. She felt betrayed. She felt powerless. She wanted to curl up in a ball and ignore all of them, men, deciding her fate like they owned her. How dare they. She had worked hard to not feel like this ever, ever again.

But...

She had already been thinking it. And Tyrion was much smarter than anyone in the world, of course he would know. Of course he would connect the dots. Of course he would see the little glances between them and work out what they meant. And politically, a marriage to Jon Snow would make perfect sense.

But still, how dare he discuss this with Jon Snow before her. He was her hand, not the King in the North's. Jon Snow sat up. She watched him, wary. But his eyes still held that softness. He knew he'd overstepped his bounds and now he sat, sheepish. She softened. She would give him the benefit of the doubt.

"What did he say?"

So he explained to her, in detail, everything they had discussed. Tyrion had worked it out, somehow, and broached the subject of their relationship. They discussed her and Tyrion's conversation in Meeren after she had left Daario. Tyrion had told Jon that a marriage alliance was inevitable. How he had listed off people she had never known and people she had despised as possible marriage candidates. Including Jamie Lannister-something she would have to discuss with Tyrion about later (because how dare the thought even cross his mind, was he sure where his loyalties lied?); how Jon had doubted that he would have ever been put on that list because he was a bastard-but Tyrion had said, no, in fact, he was Tyrion's first choice.

"But it was us he was worried about," Jon said. "Our feelings for each other. Whatever this is, whatever we want it to be. He was worried it would only complicate things. That my people would think you had bewitched me somehow with foreign magic. He said...in so many words...that 'love is the death of duty.' That it would make us reckless, and forget our duties. Make us weak."

Jon's eyes fell. He sighed with a great weight.

"He said they would use it against us, to hurt us. That we had to use our love like armor against the world."

Dany felt her heart crack a little bit. Her hand was right. He was very rarely wrong. The cruelty of the world would use their love against them, and they had to fortify their hearts against it, and protect each other. So that their love did not make them forget their place in this world. They both had to save the people they were pledged to. She placed her fingertips under his chin, raised his head to look into her eyes.

"This...this...what this is...this is real. Our feelings...for each other. It will not be weakness. I won't let it. We won't let it. It will make us strong, not weak."

"He said there was no way to hide it...our feelings would show through."

"Nor should we," she said fiercely.

They gazed into each other's eyes.

Jon's eyes became dark again with lust.

"Do you want this? Us? This, here now, and a marriage, with everything that comes with that?"

Dany thought. Conflicted. She wasn't sure if she should commit without talking to her advisors, but hadn't she just said that she was the Queen? And Tyrion seemed to have already given his blessing...

"My Queen," he said, his eyes pleading. "I would not have come here last night if I knew there was even a slight possiblity that the answer to that question was 'no'."

Her gaze softened.

"Of course I do, Jon, I just...I don't like you both conspiring behind my back. It makes me feel like I'm being sold to the highest bidder."

"That was never my intention," he said quickly, harshly. "I didn't know I would run into Tyrion. I didn't know he would figure it out. Not before we figured out what this was anyway."

"And what is, this?" said Daenerys softly.

He looked down.

"Daenerys, you should know something about me. You know I grew up a bastard. You've no idea what that was like. How it made me feel. I swore to myself I would never lie with a woman, because I didn't want to bring another bastard into the world. And I still feel that way. I don't sleep with women idly. I've only ever been in front of a whore once...my brother paid her, thought it was time for me to lie with a woman. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I couldn't add another Snow to the world."

Was he a virgin? No way was he a virgin. He was too good.

"I know what you're thinking and I'm not. I have been with a woman before. I committed myself to her. A wilding girl with fiery red hair. I loved her, and she loved me. I knew I would never leave her. We were married in our hearts."

"What happened?" said Daenerys softly. He heaved a great sigh. Pain flickered across his features, and she suspected he had never talked about this with anyone before.

"She was killed by an arrow to the heart from my brother" -he spat the word- "of the Night's Watch. I held her as she died. I burned her body beyond the wall. I wouldn't ever want her to become one of those things."

Her heart ached. She knew his pain. Gods, she knew that pain. she still carried it with her in her heart.

"Jon...I understand. I too lost my shekh ma shieraki anni. My sun and stars. I had to..."

Her voice caught in her throat. Her hands curled together in her lap.

"The Witch who killed him brought him back to life as a husk of a man after I begged her to use blood magic. She sacrificed his horse and my child...though I did not know the price would be so high. He could do naught, not speak, not recognize his surroundings. He didn't even know I was there. Didn't even recognize me."

Tears filled her eyes. He filled her hands with his, and she felt the strength to continue.

"I couldn't watch it any longer. He was not my husband. He was not a Khal. He was not a warrior. He was not even human. I suffocated him with a pillow. I burned his body and that foul witch alive in the funeral pyre and fire that birthed my dragons."

She looked up. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

"I shoud have died in that fire. But something told me I wouldn't. Zaldrīzo ānogar iksan. I am the Blood of the Dragon."

"Daenerys," he whispered gently. Her heart began to race. she felt the fire burn her veins.

They exchanged a long look. His eyes grew dark and husky again.

"I don't know what it is," she continued. "I don't know why I should have this power when my brothers, my father...did not...this power has not graced our family since we lost the dragons ages ago. But I am, for some reason I cannot explain...I am the Unburnt. Fire courses through my veins. And fire cannot kill a dragon. Do you understand?"

She did not expect him to. She didn't know how to explain why or how. All she knew was that she could never be burnt, not even by dragonfire. And it had made her strong.

He had that look on his face again. Dark and husky and needing. The same look as when he had knocked on her door last night.

"I think, right now...I think I do," he murmured.

She felt trapped by those eyes again.

"It's the same feeling that calls me to you," she finished.

"Daenerys," he said huskily, "I want you to know what this is to me. You have to understand. I don't lie with woman unless I intend to spend the rest of my life with them. Daenerys, I want to spend my days with you...what little might be left. Regardless of the political reasons, they don't matter. Not really. Whatever the threat, I love you."

She softened. And finally she forgave him for speaking to Tyrion behind her back.

"Im glad," she whispered. "I want to spend my days with you, too, Jon Snow. For I love you as well. I never thought I would again, but here I am. I love you."

They were so close now...

She firmed her grasp in his hands. He squeezed back, a thumb brushing the back of her hand.

"Daenerys," he whispered. And she melted before him.

"Jon," she murmured against his lips.

Their lips melted together like soft pads of sweet cream, tounges gently entwined together. Soft and sweet. His hand cupped her head.

She moaned into his mouth and he swallowed her lips again, hand firmly holding her head.

"Oh, my Queen," he whispered, pulling back. "I want to be your King."

Her heart raced. Suddenly that feeling was back, of submissiveness, the need for her to submit to whatever he wanted. Whatever he wants, I will give it to him.

Her breath sharpened, and with a husky growl he guided her down-threw her down-to the pillows and covered herself with his body. Her legs quickly spread apart, welcoming him. She was already so wet, still slick with his seed from the night before. He kissed his way down and this time she knew it was coming, as he placed his lips on hers between her legs. And she let out a low sigh.

"My king," she moaned.

He growled. Gripped her tighter, burrowing his nose deep into her folds, inhaling deeply. Gods, there was something so beautiful about that. Her heart pounded and her breath was short.

He encircled her nub with his tounge, hot breath lighting her very soul on fire.

Dracarys.

He breathed fire into her loins.

His swept the flat of his tongue against the entirety of her slit suddenly, and she moaned aloud.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he moaned, growling like the White Wolf he was, and began to eat her, really, eat her with fervor...gods...

His tongue...his tongue... could work magic, she decided. His mouth captured her lips fully, suckling and licking and probing and oh...

And thought began to leave her body, there was only feeling. Her legs entwined around his arms and he squeezed her thighs tightly, holding himself to her bucking hips, relentless. Her hands found the messy half-bun on the back of his head and began to loosen it, working her fingers into his hair and grasping tightly.

He moaned again, deeper than before, sending vibration through her pelvis and up her spine and she shuddered.

"Jon," she gasped.

She felt him grin against her lips.

Rythmically, he began to stroke with his tongue, slowly at first, and then quicker, faster, harder...and then he slowed again, sending waves of intense pleasure through her whole body. Then he sped up again, and on and on it went until Daenerys could take no more.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back, and locked eyes with her.

She couldn't breathe.

Then, then, he set her on fire and sent chills through her whole body by blowing, very gently, cool air over her lips.

She let out a stuttered little moan, and gripped the bedsheets tightly between her hands, her back arching up to meet his face again, which he gladly accepted, smashing his mouth onto her lips, quicker, faster, intensely...and then he let go of a leg and slipped a finger inside her, hooking it around the large nub behind her pelvic bone, and wave after wave of pleasure convulsed her whole body as he ate her alive, her walls tightening and releasing, powerfully...so powerfully she worried she might hurt his finger but he continued pushing at that spot...not stopping as she whimpered and moaned, breathless, his tounge working circles around the tiny nub between her folds that was the center of every bit of pleasure in her body.

Her orgasm lasted forever. As it faded, she was left shaking and trembling. Her legs could not support their own weight anymore as they trembled and collapsed at Jon's sides. His tounge continued to work slowly, not releasing her from her pleasure and pain. Her body convulsed, twitching. She had never come so hard in her entire life.

But he did not stop there.

He released her, and suddenly he was there, suddenly his length in her was all she knew, and she saw nothing but waves of black and Jon's soft brown eyes hovering above her as he thrust into her, again and again and again and she came again, harder, deeper than before. She felt her whole womb convulse and then hot jets of his seed filled her up and they were both coming...coming...coming...

His lips captured hers. She could not breathe. She blacked out in a haze of pleasure.

She did not know when she regained her mobility, but she slowly returned to life, and was able to twitch her fingers sporadically through his hair -how did her fingers get so tangled in it- and feel his warm, sporadic breath on her neck, his lips kissing her skin weakly. His weight pressed against her body-stopping her from floating away.

She felt soft tugs at her scalp as he gently stroked her hair between his thumb and fingers as a sensory feeling to bring himself back to life.

Daenerys just lay there, trying to catch her shattered breath.

"That was..." she gasped.

"Yeah," he murmered.

And he rolled off her gently but did not let her go, instead pulling her towards him, tucking her into his chest and reinserted his still-firm but softening member into her.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and burrowed her nose into his chest. Her whole body was trembling still, only his arms tightly around her held her together.

They lay there like that until their hearts had returned to a normal rythm and their breathing became relaxed and steady.

Daenerys had almost dozed off again when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Both of them instantly sprang into high alert.

"Just a moment," called Daenerys, as she rushed to get a dressing gown.

"It's me," and Daenerys recognized Missandei's voice and instantly relaxed. She slipped her arms through the sleeves and wrapped the soft fabric around her naked body.

"It's alright," she told Jon, who was rushing to get his clothes back on with a terrified expression on his face. "It's Missandei."

Jon looked like he was about to protest, but she gave him a commanding look and, sheepish, returned to the bed and slipped under the covers.

Daenerys opened the door halfway and met her closest friend's eyes.

Instantly she knew something was up, and her eyes traveled to the bed, where Jon lay, blushing and studiously avoiding the two women, looking out the window.

Missandei stifled a smile and exchanged a knowing look with her Queen, who blushed and also stifled a smile.

"I'll come back later," said Missandei softly, corners of her mouth tight with amusement and happiness.

"Thank you," whispered Daenerys gratefully.

The two woman exchanged another knowing, happy look, then her part-haidmaiden-part-advisor-part-closest-friend left, and Dany shut the door.

"Gods," breathed Jon.

"She comes every morning to help me dress, she is my haidmaiden, translator, most trusted advisor and my closest friend, my sister in all but blood. She will not tell a soul."

Jon huffed softly.

"Doesn't help me recover from my heart attack," he mumbled.

Daenerys grinned again.

"Oh, quit," he said, looking at her face. "I should go before someone less trustworthy walks in that door."

Her face fell. She did not want him to leave.

"Oh," she said. "Right."

He stood. He had managed to get his tight leather pants on, his bare feet padded across the floor and she felt her wetness return as she stared at his bare chest coming towards her. The closer her got, the faster her heart raced. He slid a hand under her jaw and forced her to look at him. She softened once again at his touch and felt dizzy.

Would this happen everytime, this feeling of being so...dizzy?

"I'll come back again tonight," he murmed huskily. Her breath caught in her throat and she tried to retain her dignity.

"Good," she said, with all the authority of a Queen. "I will expect you."

"Good," he said, eyes dancing and mouth smiling-or was it a snarl? Gods, it made her hot.

His lips hovered a but a few hairs from hers but he did not touch as their eyes lowered to each other's lips. Her heart raced...what was he waiting for?

And suddenly he pulled away without kissing her, leaving her breathless and wanting. She watched, open-mouthed and in awe, the only thing supporting her the door at her back as her legs trembled, as he put his clothes back on, one by one and left her there, dying, aching with need. Did he know what he had just done to her? He must have known the effect it would have...

As he sat on the bed to pull his boots on, she watched him softly. Everything had changed.

He stood. Looked at her.

She loathed to be seperate from him, even for a moment.

"Jon..." she said shakily.

"Hey," he whispered, eyebrows furrowing, crossing the room in two long strides to capture her in his arms. "It's alright. Everything will be alright."

She buried her face in his leathers. His hand held her at the back of the head there, chin resting on her hair, and she took a few shuddering breaths, feeling such a release at his touch she was overwhelmed.

He held her tighter, buried his nose in her hair. After a while, they broke apart, and he cupped her face.

"I will come to you tonight," he said, looking deep into her eyes. His face was dead serious. "and tommorow night, and the night after that, and every night to come, my Queen. That I vow to you."

She cupped his face, overwhelmed.

"I will welcome you with open arms this night, and every night to come, Jon Snow. That I vow to you."

He pressed his forehead to hers.

"I am yours," he whispered. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat. "And you are mine."

"From this day," she said, voice quivering, "until the end of my days."

He kissed her, gently, softly, lovingly.

And then he left, closing the door softly behind him, leaving Daenerys to slide down the door behind him, breathless.

Oh, Jon Snow...

A/N: gaaaaaahhhhhh

I expire.

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