Two Dragons
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Author's note: This chapter contains some mature scenes so if you're not into it or shouldn't be just skip it.
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Daenerys
Preparations and planning for the anticipated meeting at King's Landing nearly took most of their energy. She barely had the time to talk to Jon alone again. He was better now and walked around the ship but Davos seemed to be his constant companion so their conversations were naturally limited to the subjects of the meeting with Cersei. She knew her duty, she is the queen and the matters of politics should be a priority; matters of the heart had to wait, maybe indefinitely.
Her studied regal pose is like a second nature to her by now. She carefully avoids the eye contact with Jon, as much as she can, that is. When alone, her usually disciplined mind wanders. When she closes her eyes she sees their hands together, she reminisces the pleasure his touch has given her, and his eyes, his voice, his… She has to interrupt herself forcefully. There is no time for that.
They stopped at Dragonstone but as everything and everyone was ready. She was the only one that was being left behind. The rest boarded the ships. She stood on the beach with only her Dothraki guards for company. She stood there for a very long time, until the ships disappeared from view completely. She saw one lonely figure standing apart from others to the very end, a figure who looked in her direction; even when everyone else on board seemed to disappear, the figure was still there, still looking. It was the unmistakable shape of Jon Snow.
She walks slowly to the cliff. It seems like only yesterday she came here and her three beautiful children were sweetly reposing there. When she reaches Drogon and Rhaegal, they both raise their heads and gently whine. She does not care if the Dothraki see it, she falls to her knees and weeps.
Jon
He hoped that he could see her alone again. His recovery was mercifully fast but he waited in his cabin for her visit. When she did not come, he could not just lie there like a log. So he got up and got dressed. As he was fastening the sword, there was a knock and he heard the door opening, he turned quickly with a smile on his face but it was only Davos. He tried not to show his disappointment.
In fact Davos followed him everywhere, like Ghost did when it was a pup. They will soon reach Dragonstone and all they can talk about now is the best way to approach Cersei, to convince her. He steals glances at Daenerys but she seems unapproachable, back to being a queen. Gone is Daenerys who smiled, laughed and held hands with him. He knows that it is a smart choice for her, and it should be for him, but he misses her. She is right here and he misses her, it pains him not to be able to touch her.
"Ser Sandor…" she addresses the gloomy mountain of a man sitting at the far end of the table.
"I'm not a ser," interrupts the Hound brusquely, then he adds in a grudgingly polite if slightly sarcastic way, "… Your Grace."
Jon is about to say something but Daenerys continues unperturbed. "Well, at least we need you to look like one. When we reach Dragonstone, I want you to find some proper clothing, You'll be representing the King in the North after all."
Both Jon and Clegane start to say something but they are forestalled by Davos, "We'll take care of it, Your Grace."
She smiles at this but it is a different smile, Jon knows now her true smile and he admires how she manages to be civil even to the Hound, who mumbled something unrecognisable under his breath.
Dragonstone stop was not a long one. Jon did not even bother to go ashore as there really was no point. Well, there was one but he could hardly talk to her on the beach when everyone was sure to be watching them closely.
Instead he found a solitary spot on the deck, where he could watch her tiny, lonely figure on the beach when they were sailing away.
Daenerys
She circled King's Landing twice, she wanted to make sure that there were no surprises in store for them. She saw the Greyjoy's fleet, she saw Lannister soldiers on the ramparts, and she paid particular attention if there were no visible weapons aimed at her dragons, as the one she burned during the battle. More or less satisfied, she told Drogon to land in Dragonpit. Drogon did not let her down, he showed everyone how powerful he is. She hoped everyone got the message, especially Cersei.
She did not rush to her seat, even if she knew everyone was waiting for her. She smiled inwardly at Cersei's caustic remark on her lateness. 'If Cersei wants to be a queen she should control her face more,' she thinks.
She nods at Tyrion to start the proceedings. He is immediately interrupted by a man sitting in Cersei's camp. As there were no introductions, she assumes it to be Euron Greyjoy, the one who attacked her fleet. She is amazed at the crudity of the man, he looks and sounds like a simpleton and yet he managed to hurt her, she senses that this is a dangerous man, a man not to be trusted, she wonders why Cersei trusts him. For some reason he listens to Cersei when she orders him to sit. Daenerys was always a keen observer, she knows now that their alliance is fickle, out of necessity rather than loyalty, he only obeys because he needs something from Cersei, and Cersei barely tolerates the man. She makes a mental note of it.
She sees Jon getting up and trying to explain the reasons they all came here. This is not what they planned, so she tenses slightly, she knows that he is quick to lose his temper. But she is relieved to hear that he is calm and composed, it is the king speaking. She is very proud of him, she knew that she admired him for a reason. She cannot take her eyes off him, but she forces herself to take a look at Cersei, as she suspected Cersei is not convinced by any of this. Daenerys feels slightly ashamed, Cersei's reaction reminds her so much of her own when she first heard Jon's warning. This is what pride and self-importance do to people. This is a lesson for her.
"If my brother Jaime has informed me correctly, you're asking me for a truce," Cersei suddenly turns to her.
"Yes," she replies. "That's all."
Cersei clearly does not believe it and spews accusations against her just wanting to attack the capital with more men. Daenerys stares calmly back, her face betrays nothing, whilst Cersei's is full of rage.
"Your capital will be safe until the Northern threat is dealt with," Daenerys replies coldly. "You have my word."
Cersei's body pose is like the one of a wild animal ready to spring upon his prey when she calls Daenerys a 'would-be usurper'. Tyrion interrupts their exchange and the wooden crate is being brought in by the Hound.
When she sees the dead man running towards Cersei, she knows that it has worked, as it did for her. Cersei should now understand. Jon tells them how important is this war, war against the dead. Cersei seems to be paralysed with fear but says nothing. "I didn't believe it until I saw them," Daenerys tries to find a common ground with Cersei. "I saw them all."
Euron admits that he is terrified of it and decides to go back to his islands. He has the cheek to give her advice to do the same and she is pretty sure he suggested the two of them as being together after the winter. She assumes that this confirms what Theon said about him. She is disgusted but her face remains impassive.
"The Crown accepts the truce," Cersei finally speaks, she seems to acknowledge the threat and is willing to participate in the effort to fight it. Under one condition however: Jon's fealty to Cersei.
Jon looked at her and she tried to convey the message with her eyes that it is a wise thing to do to agree to Cersei's demands at the moment. But then she hears him saying that he is pledged to her and cannot agree to Cersei's demands. There is a rush of emotions running through her body. She is rejoiced that he stayed true to her; she is mortified that the negotiations are lost; she admires him and she thinks he made a mistake. And there is Viserion. The thought of him is like a cold stab to the heart.
When Cersei leaves the Dragonpit, Daenerys briskly walks to Jon. "I'm grateful for your loyalty," she says, but her voice is unsteady. "But my dragon died so that we could be here. If it's all for nothing, then he died for nothing."
"I know!" he replies angrily. She looks at him closely. He did an honourable thing, he kept his word, he risked it all for his honour. She should have known this, she should have known that this is exactly who he is. That this is a part of him that she fell in love too. He is not stupid, he knows it was unfortunate but then he could not do anything different because that is who he is. And she loves him exactly how he is. Broodiness, stubbornness, sense of duty and honour, she loves it all too.
When Tyrion asks him why he did not lie, Jon goes on explaining that the truth is important, and even if it is the hard way, he is determined to follow that path. His word has to mean something in the world of lies that surrounds us all. The truth is that hearing him say those things she felt more and more aroused. There he is, this man full of ideals, he may be naïve but she feels she is the same. And even though their situation is rather dire at the moment, she never wanted him more than right now.
Jon
No matter how many times he saw it, when he heard the screech of a dragon he jumped from his seat just to look at her. His magnificent, beautiful, tiny queen on the back of no less magnificent dragon. He felt proud, he was not sure of what, but he was proud when Drogon landed and Daenerys walked slowly towards her seat. He glanced at Cersei to see her reaction, she was not pleased. Her entrance with her guards was nothing in comparison with Daenerys's. 'This is going to be interesting,' he thought.
He watches Daenerys and she acknowledges his presence first, only then she gives a side glance at Cersei. Cersei voice betrays her feelings, his queen is calm and composed; again, he could not have been prouder.
He listens patiently first to the squabble with Euron Greyjoy, then to Tyrion slowly easing everyone into the problem at hand. But he is impatient, these are word games between Tyrion and Cersei, this is not a time for word games. When Cersei sneers at 'living in harmony', he suddenly gets up. "This isn't about living in harmony. It's just about living," he says quickly, facing Cersei. Then he calmly tries to explain the danger that is looming over them all. Her face is telling him that she does not believe him. He went through this before with Daenerys. This time he promised himself to try to be more convincing, give more arguments.
"Lord Tyrion tells me a million people live in this city. They're about to become a million more soldiers in the army of the dead," he explains.
"I imagine for most of them, it would be an improvement," Cersei quips.
He is angry now but tries not to show it, this woman mocks him but he is not here to be offended, he is here to make them understand. He steps closer to Cersei. "This is serious," he says in a deep voice. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't."
Cersei thinks it all a bad joke. 'Another stubborn queen,' he thinks. The only difference he sees now is that Daenerys was more admirable as an opponent.
Cersei ignores him and asks Daenerys if all they want is the truce. When she confirms it, Cersei tries to provoke Daenerys. He is happy to see that his queen does not take the bait. And he is relieved to hear Tyrion proposing to show Cersei the gift they brought from beyond the Wall, it breaks the tension.
He watches closely Cersei's reaction to the attacking wight. She is scared. Good. Maybe that will change her attitude.
He calmly explains how the wight can be killed. He finally got their attention. "If we don't win this fight, then that is the fate of every person in the world." He walks closer to Cersei again. "There's only one war that matters. The Great War. And it is here," he finishes.
With Daenerys's help, he thinks they convinced the Lannisters. Euron decided to leave and go back to Pyke to wait it all out. But before he goes, he walks towards Daenerys. "I'm going back to my island," he says to her. "You should go back to yours. When winter's over, we'll be the only ones left alive."
Jon is watching him leave, if the circumstances were different, there is a high probability that he might have beaten Euron to pulp. The thought of this creature near Daenerys, saying suggestive things, made his blood boil.
Then he hears Cersei say that she accepts the truce until the common enemy is defeated. He sighs with relief. It worked. Maybe all this hardship was worth it after all. But he stops in his tracks. "In return, the King in the North will extend this truce," Cersei continues. "He will remain in the North where he belongs. He will not take up the arms against the Lannisters, he will not choose sides." She even dares to recall Ned Stark, she has no shame, Lannisters executed his father and now she is saying that she believes Ned Stark's son will be true to his word.
Just when he thought it was easy. He looks at Davos who seems to agree. Daenerys does not seem to object either; when he looked at her, she seemed to give him the slightest of nods.
But he cannot. Just simply cannot.
"I am true to my word. Or I try to be," he says finally. "That is why I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens." A spasm of distaste and hatred goes through Cersei's face. "And I have already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen."
"Then there is nothing left to discuss," says Cersei and leaves Dragonpit quickly.
Davos is disappointed and does not omit to tell him that. Then Daenerys comes over and she seems to be angry with him too. Well, maybe not angry, but she reminds him that her dragon died for this, as if he did not know it or feel guilty about it already. He responds angrily but she does not leave, he can feel she is looking at him. He is unable to look into her eyes now.
And now Tyrion joins in. "Have you ever considered learning how to lie now and then?" he asks sarcastically. "Just a bit?"
Jon cannot control himself any longer. "I'm not gonna swear an oath I can't uphold," he blurts out. "Talk about my father if you want, tell me that's the attitude that got him killed. But when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won't help us in this fight."
He believes in every word he said. But then he is shot down with Tyrion's reply. "The more immediate problem is that we're fucked."
Daenerys
She is not happy. Every member of their delegations is lost in thought and unhappy. The meeting got out of hand. And speaking of hands, her own Hand went to Cersei alone and she does not know if he survives it. She looks at Jon who walks away from everyone. Her broody Northerner. She walks to him.
He notices her and he apparently tries to forestall any further complaints from her. "No one is less happy about this than I am," he says toying with the little jawbone of a dragon who lived here so many years ago.
She did not come to complain. She wants him to know it that even if she wishes he had not done it, she understands and accepts. What is more she admires him for it. She wants to be close to him but as everyone is surely watching them she reaches for the bone he is holding as an equivalent of contact.
She tells him about her family, Dragonpit and dragons. She feels rather melancholy. Her family, once glorious and extraordinary, let themselves become like everyone else. She hands him back the dragon bone and his fingers touch hers for the shortest of moments. She missed his touch since their trip back from Eastwatch. Or rather from the moment he touched her arm in that cave on Dragonstone.
"You're not like everyone else," he tells her and she feels that she can believe in anything he says, if he says it in that voice that seduces her senses. Her heart is beating faster again. He steps closer to her. The last time their faces were that close, they were in the cave. She tries to steady her heart.
"And your family hasn't seen its end,' he tells her. She is drowning in his eyes, this is dangerous. "You're still here," he continues. 'I am,' she thinks 'but I'm the last one'. She reminds him again about it.
"Who told you that?" he asks. He is so straightforward sometimes. She tries to explain but he does not seem to believe her. He tries to console her, she thinks. She is touched but it is very painful. Especially when she has to admit it to him. This wonderful, extraordinary man whom she thought annoying. Gods, she was so stupid. She should have known that this is not a man who toys with people and lie to them.
"You were right from the beginning," she tells him. "If I trusted you, everything would be different." She hopes he will understand that this is a kind of apology. Apology for her blindness, she always thought that she was such a good judge of character and yet she failed to see what a wonderful and unique person he is.
He is magnanimous and does not comment on it, just gives her the warmest of smiles. "So what now?" he asks.
"I can't forget what I saw north of the Wall. And I can't pretend that Cersei won't take back half the country the moment I march north," she says calmly. This is a setback. They are back where they were before Viserion died, only now there is no Viserion.
As Jon quotes Tyrion she cannot help smiling and that shared smile of silly hilarity bonds her even closer to him, if it is even possible. Thank the gods, even in this dire circumstances, Jon is the person who makes her smile, it is probably worth more than all the thrones in the world.
Jon
It should be him going to Cersei. It was his fault that she left in a hurry. But he also knows that Tyrion was right. If there were any person who could talk to Cersei now, Jon would be the last on the list. He purposefully strolls from others. He wants to be alone with his anger and disappointment.
He hears footsteps approaching, thinking it was Davos, he is pleasantly surprised that it is her. But at the same time he knows that she is going to whinge about his actions, so he acknowledges that he understands the situation before she has any chance to speak.
"I know," she says gently, and tone of her voice makes his heart beat faster. "I respect what you did. Wish you hadn't done it but I respect it." She comes closer so he dares to look at her. She reaches for the dragon bone he had picked up in his sulking walk. "This place was the beginning of the end of my family'" she says.
"A dragon is not a slave," she quotes from somewhere he supposes. As her eyes wander he has the opportunity to stare at her and study every inch of her exquisite face. "They were terrifying, extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe. And we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small. And we grew small as well. We weren't extraordinary without them. We were just like everyone else." Listening to her, he thinks it is as if she was talking about herself. She is a dragon, born out of fire. But he knows she is nothing but extraordinary, she is one in a million of millions. And he must be a favourite of gods that he was fortunate enough to meet her. He watches her eyes, her lips and all he can think about at the moment is kissing her long and hard. He would give anything for that privilege.
She hands him back the fossil and he touches her fingers for the briefest of moments. It feels like touching the lightning. He would like to be even closer to her but as he glances back at the others, he knows they are being watched. So he only tells her that she is extraordinary, looking deeply into her eyes. He needs to be closer to her, close enough that he can smell her foreign perfume again; and he does not care now if the others see them.
Again she tells him that she cannot have children. Yes, well, there is that. He was meaning to ask her about that earlier but he had no real opportunity and it is not an easy subject of conversation. But since she brought it up… He wants to know who told her that she is so sure.
"The witch who murdered my husband," she replies. Well, well, well, that is interesting. This is the same feisty woman who told him that she does not believe in myths and legends on the first day they met. Suddenly some murderous witch is the source of wisdom? In other circumstances he would have teased her about it, but he sees in her face how painful the subject is so he tries to promote his idea gently. "Has it occurred to you that she might not have been a reliable source of information?" he asks, and there is this nagging thought at the back of his head that he would like to prove the witch wrong. She smiles gently but apparently she is eager to change the subject. He cannot focus, he watches her lips, her neck, her breasts.
She tells him that she was wrong not to trust him at the beginning. His heart melts at this. To think that such a proud, strong-willed and self-assured woman is willing to admit it to him brings all kinds of guilt within him. If she apologises, he should have begged for forgiveness. Knowing her as well as he does now, he is ashamed of thinking of her as this privileged, spoilt and arrogant girl, who demanded just blind obedience. He misjudged her sorely. He does not need a guilt trip now. Now he needs to change the subject.
As the subject is handy, he asks what they are going to do now. She obviously makes a fair point that at the moment she is torn between helping him against the White Walkers and protecting Westeros from Cersei, the breathing monster.
Well, she is right. The situation is dreadful. This conversation is getting more and more depressing. "It appears Tyrion's assessment was correct," he says finally. She looks at him uncomprehendingly.
"We're fucked," he explains. She smiles again and it is the greatest reward in the world.
Daenerys
She is relieved to have Jon and Jorah planning the military strategy. As much as she appreciated Tyrion, his strongest point is diplomacy. Both Jon and Jorah have the necessary experience. She is much happier listening to their advice regarding the movements of troops.
It seems Jon wants to converge the forces around Winterfell. He plans to sail to White Harbour. He wants her to sail with him. Well, not exclusively her but all of them from Dragonstone. And that idea does not seem to lie easily with Jorah. He wants her to fly to Winterfell on Drogon. He is worried that as many in the North fought against the Targaryens in the rebellion, the animosity towards her may be a risk to her life as they may see her as the conqueror.
She appreciates Jorah's concern about her. He was always there for her and always was worried about her safety. Maybe she should ride Drogon to Winterfell?
"It's your decision, Your Grace," says Jon. "But if we're going to be allies in this war, it's important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbour together, I think it sends a better message."
She should be torn with indecision. They both made strong points. But as far as she sees it, it is a choice between her being alone and her being together with Jon. Well, and others obviously.
Everyone is looking at her. That should not be so disconcerting, she is used to that. She composes herself and slowly explains looking at Jorah why she is going to the North. She is not a conqueror, she wants to save them from monsters.
Only then she looks directly at Jon. She does not know if he meant what she thinks he meant but she made her decision. She does not want to be alone anymore. "We sail together."
He holds her gaze only for a short moment and then he looks nervously at the map. Maybe she did understand wrongly what he meant.
For the first time ever, her making a decision made her a little apprehensive. She does not know what to do with her hands.
Jon
Their journey back to Dragonstone was less tense. Both Tyrion and Varys, even if aware of the concept of White Walkers, after seeing the wight in action so to speak, were eager to get more details. Jon tried to tell them everything he knew with the help from Ser Jorah.
She did not join the conversations, he saw her standing alone on the deck but was unable to extricate himself from the company without raising suspicions.
Dragonstone was a busy time too. Packing the dragonglass and organising transport took nearly all of his time. He hardly ever saw her, short and meaningless exchanges during supper. And to his chagrin they never sat close or at least opposite each other.
Once he thought he saw her alone on the cliff with Drogon and Rhaegal; he even started to go there when he was accosted by Gendry who was adamant that he needed to see the new weapons they devised.
The only time he spoke to her was in the War Room when they planned the placement of the armies.
He told himself he did not do it on purpose. He did not propose that Dany sail with them on the boat on purpose. And he did not emphasise 'together' and did not look at her at the same time on purpose.
It just came about naturally. Sort of.
Ser Jorah opposed his plan and probably rightly warned her of potential threats from the Northerners. But he knew that as long as he was there, well, and Ser Jorah, they would protect her with their lives. Well, so would Drogon but that is not the point.
He tries once again to make Daenerys understand that arriving together would be seen better. They all look at her in silence.
"I've not come to conquer the North. I'm coming to save the North," she finally says. He just looks at her, it is his favourite pastime after all.
She finally turns to him and says that they will sail together. Something about the way she said it makes him afraid that she will see in his eyes the truth. He lowers his gaze and only when he is sure she is not looking at him anymore, he raises his eyes to her beautiful face.
Daenerys
She is distracted. She cannot focus on anything. They left Dragonstone late in the day and now the sun is already setting. She told Missandei that she was not really hungry but some food and wine miraculously appeared on the table, when she stood by the window and was looking at the sea.
She cannot find a place for herself in this room. Something is bothering her but she does not know what it is. Is she afraid of going to Winterfell after all? No, that is not it.
She starts to pace her cabin nervously. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Finally, a distraction. She walks briskly towards the door and opens it.
Jon.
She is surprised and not surprised at all. Maybe she never admitted it to herself but this is what she wanted. This is what she decided when she agreed that they would sail together.
She is mesmerised by his eyes. He does not say a word and neither does she. What is there to say? She loves him. She slowly opens the door wider. He comes in and closes the door quickly. She just cannot take her eyes off him.
They stand in silence, just looking at each other, for her it felt like ages. Both as if pushed by some magical forces close the gap between them. His hand cups her cheek and he grazes it with a thumb, a shiver runs down her spine. She does not remember since when she had been waiting for this. She feels that her knees are giving in, so she steadies herself by putting both of her hands on his chest. Slowly, very slowly their lips meet, it is like a discovery of a new land. They start slowly and tenderly but very soon their kiss intensifies. His lips are soft and warm, and when his tongue slides into her mouth, the primeval moan escapes her. He pulls her closely at the waist and their kiss lasts thousands of years, unhurried, deep and the sweetest of all kisses in the world. When they part for breath, she opens her eyes and stares into his, she feels like drowning into the infinite darkness that engulfs her.
She starts to undress him slowly, his hands follow her suit and he slowly extricates her from her clothes. There is this brief thought that passes her mind that he had not really planned for this moment as a good battle commander should, there are so many clothes that need to be taken off. But she is not in a hurry. She wants to celebrate every second of them being together.
When they are finally free of clothes and they are standing facing each other naked, she wants to kiss every inch of his body, but she paces herself. She finally breaks the spellbinding eye contact and starts to place light, delicate kisses on his scars. She feels actual pain thinking that anyone would like to hurt him. And there are so many of these scars. To reach the last one she nearly kneels but then she feels herself lifted and her lips are almost devoured by him. They hold each other tightly so she can feel his arousal and it matches hers. She is grateful that he leads them to bed. Their kisses are more than she ever experienced. It is not that her lips are kissing him, her whole body worships him. The actual fire never burned her but the heat emanating from his body is almost more than she can bear. She has never wanted anyone so much.
When he entered her, it was like the heavens opened and she could almost scream from the bliss she felt. And for the first time she was not alone, it was like their minds merged as much as their bodies did.
She is surprised when he breaks their kiss and slightly pulls away from her. His hand gently strokes her head. He says nothing, he just looks at her. She feels him inside her and they are as one. She fights the tears that want to well up in her eyes. This is almost too much. Her love for him overpowers her, it is overflowing her soul and body. It is like a dream that she never wants to wake up from. He is her life, her whole world, her past, her present and her future. She never knew what love was until she met this beautiful man, beautiful on the inside and out. She almost feels unworthy of being loved by such a man. Nothing is important now, it is just love between them that matters. There should be some other word for what she feels for him. 'Love' is not enough. She would sacrifice everything to live in this moment forever. She is his and he is hers. Looking into his eyes is like being home. She always dreamed of the house with the red door and the lemon tree where she would feel like home. Being in his arms is like being home.
When they resume their motions and kisses, she begs all the gods that there are, that this night would never end.
Jon
She did not come for supper. He felt too awkward to ask where she was as he was the only one whose eyes darted to the door each time someone opened it. He was not hungry, so he just drank some ale. It is pointless. Why does he even sit here? Trying not to draw the attention to himself, he stands up and walks out of the room without a word to anyone. He notices Davos and Tyrion looking at him but he ignores their stares.
Back in his cabin, he feels like a wolf in a cage, pacing it to and fro. He knows what he wants but he is somewhat reluctant to act upon his desires. He was never selfish in his actions. This feels like a selfish act. He knows it is a bad time. They are at war for survival, he should not be distracted. His duty to the North and all people of Westeros is a priority.
But he knows what he wants, he knows what he needs more than anything now. He walks out of his cabin and goes to her door. This door is the last barrier. He knows that if he crosses that threshold, he will be a different Jon Snow. Just as much as he knows what he wants, he thinks and hopes that she wants it too. Well, there is only one way to find out. He raises his fist to knock, he hesitates for a moment and then knocks briefly on the door.
The door opens and he is greeted by a vision of ethereal, stunning beauty. There are no words, he loves her, he can only just stare at her, waiting for the sentence. There is this apprehension that she could reject his advances. He was never so afraid in his entire life. She does not say a word. She stares back at him. He almost trembles. Then she pushes the door open. He feels like he is walking on clouds.
Even the fact that he can touch her seems like a dream; her skin is exactly like he imagined in his lonely moments. He slowly places his lips on hers and he feels that there is no tomorrow. It is only now.
When she starts to undress him, his hands go to her intricate robe, he never trained for this occasion and he finds it complicated. He instinctively knows that he does not have to rush and part of him is grateful for it, this dress is more hard work for him than his armour.
He finally sees her in all her natural splendour. He does not remember what he imagined but her body is more spectacular than in his wildest dreams. He wants to explore every tiny bit of it. He solemnly promises himself that he will do so tonight. There is no hurry. But his own body clearly signals his readiness.
When she starts kissing his wounds, all the unease about them disappears. Each of his scars are covered with kisses light as a butterfly touch. His breath shortens and as she kneels to kiss the scar that is the lowest on his body, he can wait no longer, he grabs her arms and pulls her up to face him. He needs her lips like he needs the air. With his arms wound tightly around her, he steers them towards the bed. They fall on it heavily with her on top of him. He wants to feel her with his whole body, he keeps her tightly close, his hands hold her precious head like a holy treasure. He is hungry for her kisses. He knows he should be patient. But there is this animal in him that he can hardly keep in check. Especially as the skin on his thigh tells him that she is more than ready for him. With one swift move, he rolls her over and nearly crushes her tiny body. So he positions himself better, grabs her thigh and enters her. They gasp in unison. His movements are slow but with powerful thrusts. Her moans of delight come at the same time as his own.
Suddenly it all feels too much. He pulls his upper body away from her and simply looks at her. This is unreal. He holds in his arms the most beautiful woman in the world, the woman he loves with all his being, the woman who loves him back. He is not a poet, he cannot find appropriate words. The world stopped existing. It is only him and her. He never felt this way. Ever. His body trembles, this is almost more than he can bear. He is inside her and this is where he wants to stay. He wants to cherish that moment. His heart is beating so fast that he feels his chest will burst any moment now. It is as if there is no air left in his lungs. He breathes heavily. So this is how it feels to be completely overcome with love. There is absolutely nothing he would not do for her. She is his whole world. And the sweetest thing of all, he is hers and she is his. He would have never thought it possible that one can love so much.
With a newly found fervour he continues his labour of love.
Daenerys
She is panting from exhaustion, her body still gently shakes in the aftermath of pleasure. They are both lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I want some wine," she finally says. "Do you want some too?" She feels he is looking at her, so she turns her face towards him. He is smiling at her, they both start to laugh as you do when the tension is broken. She just loves to see him laughing and smiling.
He nods so she slowly gets out of bed and walks towards the table. She pours wine into the goblet, sips a little from it to quench her thirst, and turns back towards the bed. He is sitting in bed now, reclining on the headboard and looking at her body with a gentle smile on his face. Well, she does not need to ask, she knows that he likes what he sees. She gives him the wine and he drinks it, but his face says it all. "I still prefer ale," he confesses.
"We'll have some ale next time," she says. They smile at each other. 'Next time', she thinks. She has accepted them so matter-of-factly but it is not so straightforward as she would like it to be. The looming war, the reaction of the Northern lords, the uncertainty of it all.
She trembles when she hears him say that he loves her. There are no words that can describe what she feels for him. He is a part of her forever, whatever the future brings, she is not alone anymore.
They kiss and her hands go to his hair, she was too busy before but now her need to run her hand through his hair is overpowering. She expertly loosens his bun and sighs with pleasure when her fingers get entangled in his locks. She climbs on top of him. She wants him here and now. Again and again.
Jon
He watches her walking naked to the table to get some wine. In the light of the moonlight seeping through the windows, she is almost shining, her hair is sparkly and her skin glistens from their exertions. Her hair is dishevelled though as his hands were greedy, gone is the elaborate, regal style and he likes it even more. She lazily reaches to her tresses and starts to let them loose with her fingers going slowly through her hair. It is the most exquisite moment he wants to treasure forever. Whatever the gods have for him in store, he will always have this moment.
And as much as he knows that there must be a 'next time' as she put it, time of war is such an unfortunate time for love. He knows his priorities and they have not changed, he will not allow himself to be distracted like Robb did. This is different, she is a warrior, she is aware of the risk and she is brave. It is a good and a bad thing at the same time. He recalls Ser Jorah's wishes that Longclaw may serve his children after him. She said that she could not have children, so this dream may not really come true, if they were to believe the witch. But there might be future for both of them, if they both survive this. She completes him. There is no future without her. She is his future. She is exactly what he has been looking for without really realising it.
They lay embraced facing each other, his heart is filled with emotions.
"I love you so very much," he whispers into her temple and then tenderly kisses her right brow. He was never much for talking about his feelings, or talking in general, but he felt such a strong need to say it, that nothing could have stopped him.
Her face is positively glowing with happiness, and as always the realisation that he can just look at her takes his breath away. "I… I love you more," she whispers.
"I really don't think people can even love more than this," he says with a smile.
"You're forgetting that I'm a dragon," she replies with a cheeky smile and kisses him tenderly at first, soon their kiss gets more and more intense and deeper. She lets out a moan, that sends shivers down his spine and stirs the desire in his underbelly area.
Not really breaking their kiss, she drags herself on top of him, his hands wander all over her back. Then she starts kissing his neck, then his chest, his stomach. He closes his eyes for a moment to enjoy it more, but he wants to see her. He looks at this unbelievable woman as she takes him into her core, making them both gasp. She is like the army ready for a battle, beautiful but terrifying. She is everything he ever wanted.
Daenerys
She wakes slowly as the sun tickles her nose. She lies on her side with Jon behind her, tightly wound around her body. She smiles blissfully. Jon's hand cups her breast. This is the best awakening of all. She gently reaches for his hand and brings it to her lips, she plants the most tender kiss she can muster. Then she feels his lips on her neck. The wave of pleasure overcomes her. She turns her head to meet those hungry lips of his. Without breaking their kiss, she turns her body to face him.
"Good morning, my queen," he whispers when they part for breath. She kisses him again as her form of greeting. Their kiss intensifies and she knows how it would end. There is no force strong enough to break them apart. He pulls her to himself even tighter, her hand goes to his round buttocks that she admired so much last night. He kisses her neck, then her collarbone.
"I think I should go before anyone notices," mumbles Jon into her skin.
"Just kiss me," she whispers. He obeys his queen without a word.
Jon
"I'm surprised you can walk," Tyrion's voice startled him when Jon finally made to the deck. He turns sharply in the direction of the voice. Tyrion is looking at him, smiling quizzically, with unreadable face.
He understands to what is Tyrion referring and feels himself blushing. He does not know if Daenerys would like for everyone to know. "What do you mean?" he offers.
"Oh, come off it," chuckles Tyrion. "You have to realise that it is not such a massive ship as one would imagine."
Jon is mortified and desperately tries to find an appropriate reply. "Don't worry," says Tyrion quietly. "It's not a common knowledge… yet. It's just our queen's cabin is next to mine. And you're both very… vocal."
Jon is silent. "It wasn't the most comfortable night for me, I have to admit," Tyrion continues. "But I admire your stamina. Ah, youth, eh?"
Jon is staring at the sea. As he cannot find the right words to address it, he prefers to stay silent. He supposes Tyrion would finally get to the point. He is eventually rewarded. "What are you going to do about it?" Tyrion asks.
Jon looked at Tyrion abruptly. Do about it? What is he to do about it? What exactly does Tyrion mean? If this is again one of his word games, he has no patience for it now. The war is coming and it is rather about that, everyone should be concerned. And he does not know the answer to that question anyway.
He did not plan to fall in love so deeply at this time. He tried to fight it, suppress it. But it was stronger than him. He does not regret any minute of it. With her by his side he feels stronger. He is no longer alone.
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NB: This chapter is dedicated to NoOrdinaryLines, silviamoragastelum, TwiceKnightley, clarss, lilygolightly, Patitocuac, ToughSpirit, sydcasy, lynnyveslee and one and only Chikinaa. Thank you all for your support. It's more appreciated than you can imagine.