Daenerys Targaryen I

It was Daenerys's turn at the ledge now. Their ledge. Ever since they had their first one-on-one conversation there during which she allowed him to mine his precious dragonglass, she would come here every day to watch the sunset and her dragons roaming the skies.

And so would he. As if she had been summoning him in her thoughts.

She often shared stories from her past; brushing over painful details sticking only to main outlines that were more or less common knowledge among her people. For some reason, she had wanted him to know what it took for her to be where she is today. It was almost as if she was trying to gain his acceptance and dare she say the respect of this stubborn Northerner.

He, on the other hand, did not share much – mysterious as he was – choosing instead to give her progress reports on the mining of the dragonglass.

Only once did she manage to get something out of him. After she had returned from the Battle of the Blackwater Rush, Drogon had decided to land by Jon who she had just spotted on the cliffs – waiting for her? The dragon then rushed forward to Jon who stood his ground like the Wall itself. And when Drogon came to a stop his snout in Jon's face, the Northern madman took off a glove and started petting him.

Daenerys was surprised to say the least. No one had ever touched her dragons besides her. She knew Tyrion released Rhaegal and Viserion from their shackles back in Mereen. But, this was Drogon – the most ferocious and protective of her children. And what was even more surprising was how Drogon, who had been injured in the battle, relaxed under Jon's touch. The curiosity was tormenting her.

"What gave you the idea to pet Drogon as you did?" She asked breaking the silence as they stood at the ledge later that day.

"I did as I would with Ghost," he responded and clarified when she gave him a questioning look: "My direwolf".

"You have a direwolf?" She was in awe; she had always thought the sigil animal of House Stark was merely a mythical creature.

He then told her the story of how they had come across a whole litter of them and how, as a bastard, he got the runt of it. He concluded saying: "We were all together then" with a mix of sadness over those lost, pain of being mistreated, and nostalgia for simpler times.

And just as often, they stood at the ledge in complete silence relishing the other's company in peace as the dragons roared and the sea waves crashed against the rocks.

She had not come to the ledge in some time though. Not since they returned from the suicide mission beyond the Wall. Not since it became as clear as the now shinning sun above her that they both harbored feelings for one another.

She had found herself fearful, like she had not been since her dragons were born, when he decided to go capture a wight for Cersei Lannister. She did not need to think much when the raven arrived from Eastwatch and hurried to go, with Tyrion on her heels begging her to reconsider. She only had eyes for Jon when she circled above the Army of the Dead. And when she held her hand out to him, it was like reaching for a lifeline.

Then, standing atop the seven hundred-foot wall of ice, she had the time to face herself with the truth. She can dodge Tyrion all she wants; but, it was too late. She had lost Jon before she had even realized she had found him.

But then, he returned to her.

She did not leave his bedside until he awoke, she wanted to be certain that he really did return to her. And when he did, she lost much of her regal mask; face and voice so soft, she was no longer Daenerys Targaryen but simply Dany – just as he had called her.

And when he took her hand; his voice thick and rugged as he apologized, she felt a spark ignite a deep fire within and tried to brush off by re-placing her regal mask. But, in the end, it was she who took his hand again after he pledged her his allegiance. She did not deserve it; she had not believed him when she should have.

She lost herself in his touch – as minimal and soft as it was. They both traced small circles with their thumbs on the other's hand. And when she looked down to their entwined hands, she saw how well they fit together and looked up into his big grey eyes and saw an exquisite combination of adoration, devotion, empathy, and desire.

It scared her. None of the men in her life had ever looked at her like that. None of the men in her life even compared to Jon Snow. She was no longer in control and that had not happened to her in a very long time. When she tried to retreat her hand, he held it tighter willing her to stay. She almost blushed and rushed out of his cabin like a love struck girl.

And she had not come to the ledge since. He did though. She would watch him from the window in her war council chamber or the terrace in her private quarters waiting for her to come again never giving up hope.

She made sure she was not alone with him, too. And tried as much as she could to avoid his eyes in meetings and over shared meals. Sometimes though, she longed to look upon his face again and would try to steal a glance, and every time he was right there with that same look in his eyes.

She couldn't not go to him after his declaration at the Dragonpit though. And again, he looked at her with those eyes telling her matter-of-factly and with so much emotion at the same time that she is not like everyone else. Then, he made it even worse when he made her doubt that she is barren – a horrid truth she has been living with for years. Was he offering?

And now, they were sailing together to White Harbor. She knew it was the right choice for their alliance. She did not need a show of power with the Northerners as she did with Cersei. But, there was another underlying reason, too. She was not sure though if it was to challenge herself to resist him or challenge him to make his intentions known.

She was now looking down at him standing on the beach with Ser Davos, the young man the Onion Knight had brought from the capital, the rather large lady knight who came to the Dragonpit in Sansa Stark's stead, and her squire who was apparently in Tyrion's service back in King's Landing.

I really ought to start getting to know these new comrades.

She heard her band of advisors approaching from behind. Jorah, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion, and Varys. The whole lot of them. It was time to head to what could possibly be their doom.