A/N: I've had a requests from a few readers that I place a trigger warning before smut, so I will do this anytime from here on out that there is a chapter with smut in it. I will also list what it contains, so they can decide whether they want to skip it or not. Sorry for the intrustion in the chapter, but my reader's mental health is more important than an easily-ignored warning on the right side of the page.
There will be some sutty-mcsmut later in this chapter. Some mild BDSM/DDLG style activity. (Mostly spanking) I will post a warning on the right side in bold before it happens, and another when it ends.
Begining: **SMUT WARNING**
End: **IT'S OVER YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES AGAIN**
*there's two instances in this chapter, though only the first contains spanking. I have labeled them both.*
DAENERYS
The bath water was warm.
But still she shivered.
She was so cold, all the time. And she'd felt she'd had to freeze her heart, too. She'd lost twenty men today in the raid. Casualties of war, and she knew it couldn't be helped, but it ached. At least she'd been able to burn some of them when she'd seen them fall. Some others were not so lucky.
That was the hardest part, she thought, for she would visit their families after. The Dothraki women would scream and cry when she'd tell them that they could not join their ancestors in the Night Lands. She'd tried to catch everyone that fell, but she'd spotted her own men with blue eyes more times than she cared to count, and she ached everytime as if they were her own blood of her blood, and she was Khaleesi.
She had blood on her hands, always, and it would never wash off.
She knew it wasn't her fault, knew that she was doing what she needed to protect the realm, but it felt so hopeless. Everytime they fought them back they added to the army of the dead, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She ached for Jon, wishing that she could at least fall into his arms when it was temporarily over for the day...
She sank deeper into the water, and felt her heart break a little more.
Daenerys wanted to help him, needed to help him, but she couldn't. He'd shut her out at every opportunity. He ignored her. And that hurt the most, that he felt he couldn't turn to her for her support.
They were supposed to do this together. They were supposed to be an alliance.
The fact that he'd broken his promise to come to her every night hurt, too. But she stubbornly refused to wait for him, and instead went to him. She would sit there every night if she had too, even if he never let her in. He would know she was there. He would know that he could count on her, and she would never give up on him. Never.
She knew he sat on the other side of the door every night, as after she'd already knocked and slid down the door to take her place as sentry, back against the polished wood, she'd feel the soft clunk of him doing the same that she did, sitting back to back with only a thick piece of oak seperating them, but so far away.
Clearly he longed for her as much as she did for him, but she couldn't understand why he was keeping her at such a distance.
It was heartbreaking.
Jon had always been so strong. She knew this. She'd seen it from the moment he'd stepped into her throne room. She'd never thought she'd see him break like this.
She sighed.
Her only small comfort was that Jon's sisters were some of the loveliest people in Westeros.
She'd gotten to know them quite well over the past month. Arya adored her, she could tell, and she adored the smallest Stark right back. The girl was a fighter through and through, and loved Daenerys' dragons.
Sansa, too, adored her, but for a different reason than Arya, she thought.
"You look beautiful today," she would tell Daenerys every morning.
"As do you," she would always return the compliment. And it was always true...Sansa was utterly stunning, her red hair always burning as bright as fire against the snow.
The two had quickly become fast friends, and Sansa had made her many beautiful dresses, always with a slit or two, so her legs would have room to move. Daenerys adored her.
She'd talked to both of them only once about Jon. They shared her concerns. Arya she'd spoken to only just yesterday. And she'd stayed silent as she talked. When Daenerys had finished, Arya had stalked off without another word, and she'd seemed angry. It was not that strange of behavior for the girl, thought Daenerys. She was very odd sometimes.
"Missandei," she said, and her friend stood up from where she was reading. "I'm done."
Missandei helped her stand, and the water slooshed around her calves as she stepped out of the tub with her friend's assistance. She was sore almost everyday now, and relied on her friend more than ever. She ached everywhere.
Perhaps I'm just getting old, thought Daenerys.
Missandei hesitated to hold out the robe for Daenerys to step through. She was looking at her oddly, eyes roaming her naked body.
"What?" said Daenerys, and Missandei looked at her, brows furrowed.
"My Queen, when was the last you bled?"
Daenerys' heart dropped. She swallowed hard.
She looked down at her body.
Yes, it was as familiar as ever. She had bruises from training to fight, and her legs and arms had become hardened with muscle from riding so much and training, but her belly and breasts...were also larger...and not with muscle.
Missandei cupped one of her breasts.
"They're swollen, Daenerys," and she she touched her belly.
Dany saw it in her friend's eyes.
"It's been..."
She couldn't remember the last she'd bleed. She'd known it had been before she'd left King's Landing, but that was ages ago...
"I don't remember..."
She felt dizzy. Missandei helped her into her robe and to the bed, where she sat, cupping her hands to her belly.
"Daenerys, you're pregnant," said her friend, and, perhaps it was her closest advisor saying it aloud, because the weight of that landed on her like a bag of stones.
"No..." she said. "I can't be. Not again. Not now. I can't...I can't do this again..."
Missandei's arms were wrapped around her.
"It's alright, it's alright..." she was saying, but Daenerys barely heard her.
"What if it's like the others," she choked out, and the tears came hard and fast, and Missandei gripped at her and brushed her hair, and Daenerys felt herself collapse. Her friend held her close. "I can't...not with Jon's...it's too...it will hurt too much...I can't...I can't..."
"You don't know that it will be like the others," said Missandei fiercely, forcing Daenerys to look at her through tear-flooded eyes.
Daenerys could feel her heart breaking. Visions of the scaly monster she had miscarried in Meeren floated through her head, so small and helpless...sitting there in a pool of blood and curled up, covered in scales...
"But it will," said Daenerys, voice breaking. "When the sun rises in the west," she chanted, "and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child..."
She looked at Missandei.
"I will never again bear a living child."
Missandei looked pained, but she knew Daenerys spoke the truth.
"Perhaps Jon will be right," said Missandei after a while, hopeful optimism shining through. "Perhaps she lied."
Daenerys looked at her. She didn't believe her.
There was a knock at the door.
Daenerys screwed up her face.
"Tell them to go away," she said. Missandei's face filled with sympathy and she nodded.
Missandei crossed the room to open the door, but when the door creaked open Dany did not hear her friend's voice. She turned angrily, prepared to tell them off herself, but Missandei's mouth was open in shock, and she let the door fall open fully.
Dany gasped, and tears flooded her eyes immeditely.
"Jon," she said.
There he stood, the King in the North, dressed simply other than his fur cloak. He looked sheepish. He stared at her, and she stared right back. She pulled the robe tighter around her, and he looked hurt.
"Hey," he said softly. "Can I...can we...talk for a moment?"
Dany swallowed hard. She looked at Missandei, and they shared a look. Dany pleaded with her eyes don't you dare leave, but Missandei gestured at Jon with her eyes, and Dany pursed her lips.
Missandei gathered her book, and looked at Dany pointedly.
"Tell him," she mouthed, and left, closing the door tight behind her. Dany sighed.
"I suppose," she said, turning to Jon. "You may speak."
She couldn't tell him. It would kill her to see him happy, only to have his heart broken by the inevitable conclusion. She wouldn't tell him. She would never tell him. It would break his heart. It had already broken hers.
Jon shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed to get out. "I know I've been...I know I've been..."
"A complete ass?" said Daenerys, glaring at him.
He looked down in shame.
"I've dishonored you. And I've dishonored the name Stark," he glanced up at her. "And the name Targaryen," he muttered. "I'm not worthy of the title King. I'm not worthy of your hand anymore. I'm not worthy of sharing your bed."
Dany felt her heart shattering, and as it hammered she stared at him in fear.
"I've been a coward."
"You could never be a coward," said Daenerys stiffly.
Jon looked up at her, brows furrowed, pain on his face.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."
"Jon," said Daenerys, and her heart wrenched with sympathy and desperation. "Please tell me. What is going on? Why have you..." her voice waivered, and she took a deep breath. "Why have you ignored me? What happened? What did Bran show you that affected you so deeply it would make you forget all that you are?"
Jon took a heavy breath, and he crossed the room and fell into a chair, head in hands.
"Just tell me, Jon," she pleaded. "Who is your mother?"
Jon let out a pained moan.
Dany felt her temper rise.
This was not the man she loved.
She stood, and crossed the room to stand in front of him. Her robe fell open, but she did not close it. She bent, sliding a hand under his chin.
How dare you ask the truth, when you keep this secret of your own? a voice in her head thought suddenly. She felt anger rise again, and gripped his jaw tightly, ignoring the thought.
"Tell me," she said fiercely. Tell HIM, said the voice again. Her free hand sneakily slid up to cup her belly, and her heart broke once again as he looked into her eyes, and his eyes were sad, so sad, and his mouth hung open with words he could not speak, breathing labored. "Tell me, Jon, I command you as your Queen."
Jon swallowed hard, breathing labored, and he fought for words.
"I feel like I've been stuck between two worlds, Daenerys...like I'm still stuck in Bran's vision...I can't get it out of my head...everytime I sleep I go back to it...and I dream about it when I'm awake...I can't escape it and always he's there...Bran...the Three Eyed Raven...whatever he is...he's stuck, and I can't help him...I can't help myself...I'm stuck there, in the past...and so is he..."
Dany's brows furrowed. She sensed not all was as it seemed. Something was wrong...so wrong...Bran had been stuck in a coma since their vision...and Jon was as he had said...and ever, always, there was the Night King...sitting there, on her child...the body of her fallen...
He throat tightened.
She couldn't think of that now. Jon needed her.
"This isn't you, Jon. There's some magic at work here. I can sense it."
Jon nodded.
"It's not your fault."
Jon sighed. Shook his head.
"I should be stronger than this."
Dany gripped his chin in her hands.
"Magic is dangerous, and powerful, and more powerful people than us have fallen into madness or worse because of it..."
For some reason, an image of her father, the Mad King, burned into her mind. She didn't understand. She had been thinking of Mirri Maz Duur and what she'd done to Drogo, and of the Red Priestesses, who were capable of rising the dead and more, and the things she had seen in the House of the Undying, and how it had so enraptured her and felt so real when it had only been magic...and she knew this was stronger than the magic she had seen in Qarth. There was no reason for her to be thinking of her father, as his madness had not been magic-induced. He had just gone mad.
"Tell me, Jon," she begged. "Please, just tell me already."
Jon gasped for breath, knuckles white as he gripped his hair and stared at his shoes.
"My mother was Lyanna Stark," gasped Jon finally, like he had taken his first breath after drowning. "And my father was your brother. Rhaegar. He was my father."
Dany felt her hand slip from his jaw and her knees hit the floor. Her legs didn't seem to work. Her heart began to race.
"What?" she repeated.
She couldn't have heard him right.
"My father...was Rhaegar Targaryen," Jon choked out, eyes filling with tears despite his best efforts.
"Rhaegar..." repeated Daenerys, heart hammering. "Rhaegar?"
She couldn't process it, not really, not in her mind, she couldn't quite process what he'd said.
She could see nothing but his eyes, which looked at her with desperation. Please, they said, please, please...
Please what?
She didn't know...
"I'm your nephew," said Jon, words slipping from his tongue.
"My...nephew?" she repeated.
Jon nodded, eyes desperate for her.
"My mother named me Aegon Targaryen, for Elia's dead child. I'm Lyanna Stark's son. I'm Rhaegar Targaryen's son..."
"Aegon..." she whispered.
Finally she looked at him, really looked...
His face...how had she not noticed at first? How had she never noticed?
His jaw, his cheeks, his heavy brow...
She imagined him blonde, his eyes shifted to indigo...
And she would have seen the mirror image of Viserys, who she knew had looked exactly like Rhaegar, as she'd been heard said many times. How had she never noticed? He shared the same brows as her, the same brooding expression...their stubborness, their tempers...Jon's affinity for the Dragons...how he'd reached out to them and touched their fiery hearts...and hers...and...how had she not realized?
Her brother's son. Her nephew. Her family.
"You are blood of my blood," she whispered at last, and cupped his face in her hands. "My brother's son...Why didn't you tell me?"
Jon pressed his forehead to hers, face pained, and his strong, warm hands wrapped around her wrists. Then he tore his face away from hers.
"I couldn't...I don't know...I just...I tried, so many times...I wanted to...I never could...find the right words."
"Oh, Jon," said Daenerys softly, her heart melting as she thought back, to when they would cross in the hall, and he'd always...he'd always looked like he'd wanted to tell her something, now that she thought about it.
"There's more," he said, and his voice tore at his throat. "You won't like to hear it."
"Jon," she said, not able to breath.
He shook his head.
"I have to tell you. I have to..." he clenched his teeth. He clung to her wrists painfully, as if they were his only lifeline. She brushed his cheeks with her thumbs.
"Rhaegar never kidnapped Lyanna. He never raped her. He loved her. She loved him. He annuled his marriage to Elia with her consent, and Rhaegar and Lyanna...they were married in a secret ceremony in Dorne. Bran showed it to me...and Sam has the Septon's journal that performed the ceremony...I'm...I'm..."
Dany's heart fell as she looked at him, and her mouth fell open. She heard a ringing in her ears...she couldn't breathe...
"You're the true heir to the throne," she concluded.
He nodded.
She pulled herself from his grasp, and stood up, turning her back to him. Her hand drifted to her mouth in shock.
"Yeah," she heard his voice as if from a long way away.
The image of Jon sitting on her throne, a crown on his head, came unbidden and unwelcome into her mind.
She had come this far...so far...only to have it ripped away from her by a man...
She shook her head in anger. How could she think such a horrible thing? Jon was the most honorable man she'd ever met...Jon would break the wheel as much as she would, he would be better at it than she would...
If Jon was the heir to the Iron Throne, he was the heir to the Iron Throne. That was that. She wasn't so petty as to take it from him. It was his right, as her eldest brother's trueborn son. It was hard, the hardest thing she'd ever know she'd have to do...
But she knew it would be the right thing to do.
And she knew Jon would do the same for her were he in her position.
But that didn't make giving up her ambitions easy.
She took a deep breath, turned, and looked at him. She smiled, lip quivering, before bowing her head and falling to a knee.
"If you are the King, than you are the King, it's only right I support your claim, for our House."
Jon shook his head furiously, and the chair flew back as as he threw himself from the chair to his drop to his knees before her, putting himself lower than her as he slouched over. He grabbed her chin roughly and raised it from the floor to his eyes. He looked like he was about to be sick.
"No, Dany, NO," he said fiercely. "I don't want that damned thing. I don't care about it, I never wanted it nor do I have any right to sit on it. You deserve that. That has always been your right. It doesn't matter. I don't care. I don't want it. I only want you. Never kneel to me again. Never. Never. Never. You are the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, regardless of who my parents are, I don't care."
Dany shook her head, and grabbed his, pressing her forehead to his.
"Blood of my Blood," she said again, and her fingers tangled in his hair. "Don't speak in haste."
"I don't...I don't want it...I don't care..." he sobbed, and he crumbled in front of her.
Dany held him close as he weeped into her chest.
"Oh, Zokla hen ñuha prūmia," she murmered into his hair. "Iksā daor mērī."
You are not alone.
He wrapped his arms under hers and up her back, hands clinging to her shoulders. She pulled him tighter into her lap.
He was like a small child at that moment, and her heart broke for him as she was reminded of their child in her belly. Her eyes filled with tears as her heart broke for him again and again. She couldn't tell him. She could never tell him.
This had already broken him. She wouldn't do it any farther.
And a sense of peace settled over her like a warm blanket, as she could see their tragic destinies spread before her like a map. There was no happy ending
When the sun rises in the west,
And sets in the east.
When the seas go dry
And mountains blow in the wind like leaves.
When your womb quickens, and you bear a living child.
Then he will return
And not before.
She imagined it before her, their beautiful life they might have had. They would sit on the throne together, as husband and wife, and have many beautiful children with silver hair, and the people would not suffer and would not starve, and there would be no war, no suffering, there would be a golden age of peace.
But that was a lie.
It was winter, and the dead would rule, and the Iron Throne would freeze. King's Landing would fall, and be blanketed with snow. She would never sit on her father's throne, and neither would Jon. Her womb would dry up like sand, and she would birth a stillborn half-dragon half-human monster. There would never be any peace as long as the wheel still turned, and Winter would always be coming.
She raised his head from her chest, and looked at him, heart calm and head clear.
She would cherish him while she had him, for she would not have him for long.
There was no happy ending to this story.
Daenerys brushed his hair from his face, fingers dancing over his brow and cheeks. She cupped his face with her hands, and brushed the tears from his eyes. Her looked at her with those sad, lost eyes.
She pressed her lips to his.
At least she wasn't alone in the world anymore.
"I don't know what to do anymore," he said when they broke apart, voice raspy. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
"You are my family," she whispered into his breath. She opened her eyes to look at him. His eyes were closed tight in pain. She tapped his chin, and he looked at her. "You are Aegon, of House Targaryen, Seventh of your Name," she cupped his chin, and he shook his head, but she continued. He needed to hear it. He needed to hear her say it. "You are also Jon Stark of Winterfell. Because are too a true Stark," Jon swallowed and took a deep breath. She'd learned a great deal of his deeds from her time among his people, and she would use every single one of them now. "You are King in the North, and, you are King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, leader and friend ofthe Free Folk. Friend of Giants. You are the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Defender of the Wall. The Shield that guards the Realms of Men. Protector of the Realm. You are The Resurrected. the Unfrozen. The White Wolf. The Watcher on the Walls," Jon looked at her like she was breathing life back into him. "You are the Rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms." She ran a hand through his hair. "You are the beloved of the Mother of Dragons, who is, too, the rightful Queen, you are her husband of her heart and soon of law, and you are the stongest, bravest, most honorable man she has ever known."
She pulled him closer, looked deep into his eyes. He held her tight, and she knew he had finally, at last, returned to her.
"If the day comes, when the world must chose one of us to sit on the throne, we will refuse the one. Only together will we take the Throne, and only together will we rule. I will not do it without you by my side. I was never going to anyway. But now you are as equally King as I am Queen. Together, we will make the world a better place, and we will break the wheel together."
Jon cupped her face. Kissed her.
Looked into her eyes, and she saw the warrior in him again. Saw the King.
He nodded.
"Together."
Dany kissed him fiercely, and he held her to his lips like it was the only thing that kept him with her. She held him desperately, and he lifted her up effortlessly. She clung to him as he walked her to the bed, and floated her down gently in his arms to the soft sheets. He kissed her neck, brushed her hair away from her face, then looked deep into her eyes.
"I will never abandon you again."
Daenerys smiled. Cupped his curls in her hand. He leaned his head into her hand.
"I'm so sorry for everything. Everything. I will never leave you again. I will be with you every night for the rest of our lives, and I will ride with you into battle in every battle, and I will never leave you or our people again. I'm so sorry."
"Shh, Jon," she whispered, sliding his pants over his hips. "I know."
**SMUT WARNING**
He kissed her deep, then, and inserted himself into her. They both moaned in contentment. It had been so long.
As he moved inside her and she gripped him tightly with her legs, fire rose in her belly once more, and the cold faded from her, and once again Jon had breathed the fire back into her...as she had breathed fire into him.
Blood of my Blood.
He thrust deep into then, and silenced her wandering thoughts. She looked deep into his eyes, and there she saw the man she loved, the father of her child. King of the Seven Kingdoms whether he liked it or not, and King of her heart.
"Aegon," she whispered, and he shut his eyes against it. She grabbed his chin, forced him to look at her. "Aegon," she said, and thrust her hips up to meet his.
He looked at her, and she saw that fire in his eyes once again. She thrust herself onto him once more.
"Aegon," he whispered.
He growled.
Jon pinned her down by her wrists.
"That's not my name."
She raised her chin to him proudly.
"That is your name. And you will wear it with honor."
He thrust into her. Hard.
"Aegon," she said fiercely, lifting her hips and denying him the friction of pulling back, thrusting him deep into her and she felt her womb twitch with pleasure.
He groaned.
"Daenerys," he warned.
She ground her hips into his.
"Aegon," she responded.
Daenerys swore that if Jon had been a dragon he would have breathed fire. He gathered up both her wrists in one hand, holding them tightly, and grasped her damp hair in a fist. She was pinned. She grinned as her heart raced with excitement. She had never done something like this before.
"Jon," he said forcefully.
He leaned over her and looked her in the eyes. His beautiful brown eyes were exceedingly gentle, but a fire burned behind there. Don't test me, they said.
Oh, she would.
She licked her lips, raised her head so her lips were a hair's breadth away.
"Aegon," she breathed.
His grip tighted on her head and she felt a very pleasent pain at her scalp. She smiled.
"You," he growled, letting go of her, slipping out of her and flipping her over. "Are incorrigible."
And he slapped her ass. Hard.
Dany gasped at the sudden pain. Her whole body became erect, and the entirety of her hole seized, tightening in pleasure.
She reeled in shock for a moment, as the sting faded.
He shifted beside her. He still had his clothes on, and his pants drifted around his thighs as his cock was sprung free and glistening from her wetness. She looked over her shoulder at him.
His eyes were gentle and worried, somewhat fearful, but there still burned a dominance that was only tempered, not extinguished. He leaned over her, and ran his hand gently over her hair. She closed her eyes and her heart warmed at his touch.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, the intimidating growl not gone, but quivering on the edge of his voice, which was gentle.
"Yes," she breathed.
"Is this...is this...something you want to do?" he asked softly.
She nodded eagerly.
"That was...I liked it," she breathed, looking at him. A small smile cracked his face.
"Do it again," she commanded, "Aegon."
His hand tightened in her hair and she inhaled sharply.
His hand came down hard on the fleshy part of her ass again.
"Say my name," he growled in her ear.
"Aegon."
He hit her other cheek this time, and she let out a soft cry of surprise.
"No, my love. Jon."
She drew herself up as best she could.
She was more stubborn than he was, she would prove it, and she would work his heiritage into his head and make him accept it if it was the last thing she did.
"Aegon Targaryen. Seventh of your-"
Smack!
Her whole body stood alert in pleasure. She felt a wetness slip down her inner thigh.
He rubbed the cheek of her ass firmly, and it lessened the sting slightly.
He slid his fingers along her wet slit, and she moaned shakily. The pain had only furthered the pleasure.
"A-Aegon..." she said shakily.
He took away his fingers, and that stung more than the smack that soon followed.
Jon gently rubbed her bottom, kissed it. Her whole body melted. He moved to sit on the bed cross-legged, and pulled her onto his lap. He gently gathered up all her hair in a ponytail, and held it tightly in his fist. He rubbed her ass threatingly, fingers brushing her slit. She was soon shaking all over in anticipation.
He leaned over, kissed her cheek, whispered in her ear.
"What's my name?"
He squeezed her hair and her ass. She grinned.
"Aegon!"
He growled.
Hit her. Harder than before. Tears sprung at her eyes from the pain.
"All you have to do is call me Jon, and I stop."
She didn't want him to stop.
"I will never call you Jon, Aegon," she teased, and he spanked her again. She recoiled from it, as her cheeks were already in pain from the previous one. But he held her firm, and she could not squirm much, for his hand held her hair tightly.
"You are Aegon Targaryen," she said determinedly. "Seventh of your name-"
SMACK.
The clapping sound echoed throughout the room, and the fire crackled as a log collapsed. Her ass stung longer than before.
"Seventh of your name. Ki-"
Smack!
She gritted her teeth against the pain, but she was stubborn, and he was growing angrier by the minute. She found that indescribably hot.
"KING of the North, the Andals, the Rhoy-"
SMACK!
"The Rhoynar, and the First Men-"
Smack!
"Lord of the Seven Kingdoms-"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! her ass was burning, but she would not let up.
"Protector of the Realm! Aegon, the White Wolf, Aegon, the Unfrozen, Aegon, the Resurrec-"
SMACK!
She cried out in pain. That one really hurt.
He stopped, resting his hand on her lower back.
"No," he said, and his voice was filled with pain.
She stopped, looked at him best she could. He loosened his grip on her. He looked hurt.
Daenerys wondered whether it would be best to continue, and let him work through it, or to stop.
**IT'S OVER YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES AGAIN**
"Zokla hen ñuha prūmia," she whispered. He looked at her. Sighed heavily. And she knew.
"Oh, Jon," she murmured. He let her go. She crawled into his lap, straddling him. His manhood pressed into her thigh. He was very hard. She pressed her forehead to his. He closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"Shh," she breathed. Ran her fingers through his curls. "What is it, my love?"
"I don't...I don't want to be King. I don't...I don't even like being King of the North."
She kissed his forehead.
"But you bear it well. A good ruler never wants to rule."
He looked at her. Frowned.
"You do."
She looked down. Shook her head. Looked in his eyes.
"No. I don't like it either. I don't want it."
"But you...you've sought it out, you've fought for it..."
"Yes," she said. "I have."
"Why?"
She sighed.
"Because I see injustices in the world, and no one stopping them. I saw slavery, and no one stopping it. I saw innocent people-children, being hung on crosses and left to die, and no one would help. I saw women being raped and defiled, and no one would stop it...no one, but me. I had to...because I was the only one who would."
Jon looked at her.
"And haven't you done the same?" she finished.
She knew he had.
**AND AGAIN...SMUT WARNING**
His eyes blazed into her, and he kissed her, hard, desperate. She shifted, and slid him inside of her once more, and they moaned together.
"You are Aegon Targaryen, whether you want to be or not..." he thrust into her. "Y-you might have been raised as a bastard, Jon Snow, but you were born, ahhh," he thrust into her again, deep. "...to rule. And we rule..." -he ran his tongue up her neck- "...because we must-" he thrust into her again and she moaned. "To stop people like Cersei-" he was biting her neck oh gods..."-from inflicting her pain" -he squeezed her sore bottom-"on innocent people. Cersei- ohhh," -he jerked quickly into her- "doesn't care about the realm as we do-" he mouthed at her collarbone, sharp teeth grazing it threateningly- "she would rather watch it burn-" he pulled at her hair and she moaned... "We can't let that happen."
He looked at her, eyes tight. She moved on top of him, circling her hips, and his eyes rolled as he closed them. He held the back of her neck tightly, hand buried in her messy hair, and kissed her breast, sending shoots of pleasure straight to her groin. Her nipple hardened as he circled it with his tongue.
He grabbed her, then, tightly, and flipped her over so he was on top, and slammed himself into her hard, once, twice, three times, then he flipped her over, pressing her face into the pillows. Her heart raced as he lifted her on her knees and fucked her like a Dothraki whore. But he reached around, like a Dothraki would never do...and began rubbing the little nub between her legs, sending waves of pleasure through her body.
And then Jon smacked her ass. She moaned loudly, and he did the same as her walls tightened around him. He did it again, and again, smacking her bottom, rubbing her in torturously repetitive circles, quickening the louder her moans became, and she begged him, for what she did not know, but she saw stars and he was relentless, and he wasn't even moving in her anymore but she felt herself floating, floating...and wave after wave of pleasure hit her, and then he bagan to move, hard and fast, and she couldn't see anymore from the pleasure, as he relentlessly rode through her orgasm, not stopping long after she'd finished and forcing her into a second one soon after, and her legs started to shake and just when she thought she couldn't hold herself up any longer he came deep inside her growing womb.
Still, he did not stop, instead moving off and burying his face between her legs while she stayed on her knees, making her come again with barely even a half a minute's breather. And she cried out loudly as, finally, she was allowed to collapse into the bed.
**IT'S OVER YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES AGAIN**
It was wet with drool and tears, but she was past the point of caring, and she was barely aware of anything but the floating sensation.
His fingers brushing her hair startled her out of it, and she looked in his eyes. He was laying beside her, staring at her.
"You're beautiful," he said softly, gently kissing her in her daze. She smiled.
"I win," she said. He smiled at her.
"It's not a competition," he said.
"It was," she said.
"So why did you win?" he said. "I made you cum more."
"True," she said.
"But...?" he said "You still think you won, why?"
"Because from now on, whenever someone calls you Aegon, you will think of this."
His mouth fell open.
She grinned, rolled over, snuggled deep into him, and began to drift off.
He groaned at her, and bit her neck. She smiled in happiness as he nuzzled into her.
There is no happy ending, thoughts intruded on her. She grabbed Jon's hand, and placed his warm hand over her only slightly swollen belly. He sighed in contentment, and her heart thrummed. She wished she could tell him, but she was scared.
Maybe this time would be different.
And they had this moment.
They needed the hope, they had to hold onto it like a desperate lifeline.
And she needed him, and he needed her, and maybe, just maybe, the child in her belly would live. Maybe, the child would be human, and maybe, someday, it would inherit all they had conquered together, and all they would hopefully save, and from mother and father would birth a song of Ice and Fire.
A/N: So, I'm sensing a little hostility in the comments over the last chapter...hopefully this chapter makes up for it? :D ... and don't worry, Jon will have a chance to redeem himself. I really wanted to showcase how lost he was, and how powerful depression is when it sinks it's claws in, and that it can happen to anyone, even wonderful, brave, strong, amazing Jon. I wouldn't have any fun writing this if I didn't push the characters a little...or a lot. His parentage forces a lot of destiny on Jon, and he kinda shut down, which (for me) is completely understandable. He WAS lost, completely, and it wasn't just because of the depression...he was also stuck in Bran's otherworld, half in, half out, as Bran couldn't get him out of their properly. That's why his dreams were so vivid and disturbing for him, and he always dreamt of the Three Eyed Raven, because Bran was reaching out to him for help, as it's the only thing tethering him to the world of the living. ONLY ONE of you guessed right in the comments, so proud of that person!
Sorry if you got a 50 shades vibe. I really wasn't going for that xD 50 shades ruined BDSM forever unless those of us that actually know what BDSM is really like change the perception. Now, granted, BDSM as it stands today probably didn't exist in Westeros, though I'm sure the idea of it's there. Remember Littlefinger talked about one of the girls in his brothel was sad, and he had a client that want to change her in ways no one had thought of before...I got a little BDSM/DDLG vibe from that although OBVIOUSLY non-consensual and gross because that poor girl probably went through hell. And, I really doubt Jon and Dany would even KNOW to do such things, but they might have some ideas in their heads of what they could do to each other, and really Jon (and Dany) were acting on insticts here. Dany was being a wonderful sub and checking on the mental health of her dom and when she knew it had been pushed too far, and Jon did well asking for her consent to continue. He even gave her a "safe word" as such in giving her an "out," in saying his name. I also tried to show that having that kind of relationship can really help a person work through whatever is bothering them, and that was especially true with Jon, who has gone through a lot and would benefit the most at this point from a DDLG relationship. And no, it won't hurt the baby. :)
I feel like I didn't address Dany's pregnancy enough. But she did just find out, and didn't even really finish processing it before Jon walked in. Y'all knew it was coming, so I didn't feel the need to make it the whole chapter and end on a cliffhanger. But I really don't think she would tell Jon, as in, at least in my story, she's had several miscarriages before. Obvs she's had her period, like any healthy woman would, but she definitely got preggo on that boat, BTW interesting tidbit. The rest of the sex was just extra. ;P
Now you see why I wanted to move the story forward a month? It's been about two or three months since boatsex. Enough time for her (and Missandei) to notice her body changing. Her eggo is preggo, but who knows if it's a healthy baby or not (I do! I do! But I'm not telling). Who knows if she'll ever tell Jon, either. She doesn't want to hurt him, and it's already breaking her heart, because she knows (or thinks she knows) whatever child she has will be a monster. Not your typical Recurrent Pregnancy Loss case, but it's definitely a good representation of that. Miscarriages aren't talked about enough. (I've never had one, in fact I've never been pregnant, nor have I ever really had anyone close to me pregnant or been part of the process, so anyone that could give me some info as to personal experiences I would be grateful,) but I've met people who had a rainbow baby after having several miscarriages, and they were very very happy people.
Don't hate me too much because of what I did to Jon...remember, I'm only human and so is Jon. He recieved information about himself that anyone would react unpredictably to. Even Robb broke down like a child at the news of his father's death, and Jon's not much older than Robb was when that happened. People do things that may seem strange or out of character, but it's just the way that some people react. It seemed right when I wrote it. Sorry if you didn't like it, I really am. Jon is changing significantly now, and he had been ever since he was resurrected. I'm really hurt by some of y'alls comments...but it's okay, I guess, I'll live, and I'm an art major, so I can take constructive critisim...but damn some of y'all were harsh...especially for a story that's never got anything but love...so I must have really gone wrong in the last chapter. I'm really sorry about it. But I feel I can recover! THE SHOW MUST GO ON.
Love y'all anyway!
WOW That author's note was long! Please REVIEW!