Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

A/N: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Chapter 80: Flying

Imogen's POV

"What are your plans today?" Jon asked.

I was tying the laces to my boots. I stared at Jon as he had already dressed. The last several days have been hectic in the final preparations for departure. Jon will take the Northern forces south with the Dothraki and Knights of the Vale. As this was happening, I was busy tending to my duties in tending to the wounded and balancing resources.

I was pleased when most of the wounded could leave the Great Hall. However, there were those who had lost limbs. Losing an arm was one thing. But, seeing warriors without legs and the sudden pity and remorse. It brings back questions about whether death was better than this. Sansa noted this as we tried to figure out how to compensate the men who cannot return to ordinary life. Thousands of men were not trained soldiers but farmers, builders, and traders.

Jon is aware of the situation as he comes to check on the wounded and sees the sacrifices every living man and woman has gone through. No words could be said about the choices that were made for humanity's survival, as it was a long recovery.

"Just the usual," I answered.

Jon made his way over, offering a hand. I accepted, and he pulled me up and wrapped his arms around my waist. My body pressed against his own as my hands rested on his shoulders.

"Think you can spend the morning with me?" he asked.

"Wasn't last night enough?" I smirked.

Jon snorted, shaking his head, "Seven Hells, woman. Don't tempt me."

I snickered at that. I was already dressed, wearing my usual attire with the hard vest. Even though there was no need for armor, I still kept the hard vest and bracers on. I haven't worn a dress since the announcement of our marriage. Although Sansa mentioned once things settle down, a seamstress will come by for my measurements. There was conflict, for I hadn't worn feminine clothes I felt comfortable in. Let alone a chance of battle may break. I needed to be ready.

Jon took a deep breath, "Please."

I sighed, "Very well."

Jon nodded as he gave me a chaste kiss. Afterward, he let me go as we finished getting dressed, grabbing our swords and cloaks. We had a quick breakfast before Jon led the way. I wasn't sure what he had in store. The moment we entered the courtyard, Skadi was there with Ghost.

"You think Skadi can take us to the dragons?" Jon asked.

"She can," I answered, rubbing her side. "Can you, girl?"

Skadi nodded as she knelt down, allowing Jon and I to get on. Not a second longer, Skadi took off with Ghost by her side. Jon kept a secure hold of my waist as I held on tight to Skadi's furs. The black direwolf ran fast, avoiding everyone in her wake as she made her way to the field where the dragons were.

When we got there, only Rhaegal remained. Drogon must be out hunting, or Daenerys took him to fly. It seems the green dragon was doing well. Skadi stopped, keeping some distance. Jon was the first to get off before helping me down. I smiled softly, noting that he had been trying to find ways to have his hands on me.

Ghost whimpered and sat down. Skadi nudged him to knock it off. I arched my brow, wondering what was going on. Unless Ghost did not like Rhaegal.

"What's up with Ghost?" I asked.

Jon sighed as he petted the albino wolf, "Ghost doesn't like it when I fly."

"I see," I murmured, then stopped, realizing why we were here. "Wait…"

"We don't have to," he assured. "But after the last war, I will see if Rhaegal can stay in the south. He can't stay in the North, let alone the True North."

"You know I can fly in Wynn," I reminded.

"I know, but this is something different." He explained, offering a hand. "I thought we could get out of the castle. See the North. Do you trust me?"

I stared at him.

"Do you trust me?" he asked again with a reassuring smile.

I took a deep breath and took his hand, "You know I do."

Jon nodded as he led the way towards Rhaegal. I was still nervous since this was a dragon, a firelizard. The last time I was this close was before the Second Long Night. When we were close enough, we stayed still as Rhaegal lifted his head, staring at us with those amber eyes. The air became warm with the scent of sulfur. Jon took my hand, removed the glove, and stretched it in front of us. Rhaegal moved closer until the tip of his snout was against my hand.

I panted as the excitement of touching a dragon filled me. The texture of his scales is something I can barely describe. It was as if it were flexible, hard leather with patches of scales. The heat emitted from his nostrils as the scent of smoke and sulfur filled the air.

"It's still hard to believe they exist once more," I murmured.

"Indeed," Jon agreed.

No words were said as Jon lowered my hand, returning my glove. I put it on, securing it, before following Jon. Rhaegal had lowered himself, allowing better access. Jon helped me up as I tried to climb onto the dragon. However, with Rhaegal being massive and moving, it was hard to get up. I lost my footing, and I slid. Fortunately, Jon caught me.

"Easy," Jon murmured, though a chuckle could be heard.

"Massive firelizard," I grumbled.

A rumble went through Rhaegal as he lay there. I paused, then stared at Jon, wondering about the dragon's intelligence. Jon nodded as if he had read my mind. Needing to mind my tongue, I tried again, climbing up. Rhaegal remained still this time, allowing me up. I moved my leg over onto where the neck and shoulders meet and tried to grab onto something. Jon climbed up, taking a seat in front of me.

"So, how do I hold on?" I asked.

It was definitely strange. When I ride Skadi, her mass is similar to that of a horse, and her fur makes it easy to grab. However, Rhaegal was different. Not only for his size, but he was a reptilian. There were quills and spikes, yet not large enough to grab from where I was sitting.

"Just hold onto me," Jon answered.

I snorted.

Jon chuckled as he adjusted himself to his hold. I lean in, wrapping my arms around Jon's torso. Rhaegal gave a shriek, standing up to full height. He gave a slight shake before he started running. Flapping his wings before taking off to the sky. It was like a stone being thrown, only this time, I was the stone as the wind and the force blasted at us. The ground becomes smaller as we soar, Rhaegal's wings beating the air into submission and thrusting upward.

I held on tight to Jon, burying my face into the furs of his cloak while pressing my thighs deeper into the dragon, trying to ground myself.

"Easy," Jon shouted, not out of anger, but loud enough to be heard.

"This is not like warging," I shouted back.

Definitely not like warging a bird. When I was in Frigg, or even Wynn, the speed and force was never this strenuous. It was like I was tossed in a gale or a storm. I tried pushing my knees and thighs as Rhaegal went higher. Rhaegal shrieks as he gets higher before finding some height as he soars over Winterfell. This time, the pace was softer; his angle wasn't steep as he headed towards the Wolfwoods.

The wind began to lessen as the flight eased up. My legs shook while my arms were locked around Jon. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the spine all the way to the dragon's tail, with Winterfell in the far distance. Growing smaller, as the people and horses shrink to the size of an insect. My stomach tightens, and I'm still not sure how I feel about this type of flying.

"You alright?" Jon asked.

"It's…different…." I managed to say.

Rhaegal's wings gave a mighty beat, and he made his way toward the rough terrains. I could only hold on tight and observe the North in winter. As the snow dusted over the gorge where the river was. The forest was coated in a fresh dust of snow. All the beauty that it brought back memories of the True North. Near Lunar Haven, areas where the Army of the Dead did not taint.

Rhaegal glides down to the ravine, making turns in every direction. The adrenaline burning through my veins for this was horrifying and exhilarating. This was the speed I could do in Wynn. I saw parts of the ravine and canyon that have barely been seen at this angle.

I don't know how long we were flying, except we saw many parts of the North. I wonder what these lands will look like when the snow melts away in the summer. I saw life in the fields and valleys. Despite all that was happening and trying to hold on, it was freeing. I took a deep breath, leaning against Jon, enjoying this different flying experience.

.o0o.

After some time, we returned to Winterfell. I can't say it was a smooth flight since Rhaegal maneuvered around the ravines and mountains. Let alone the rough landing back. Jon went down first. I took several deep breaths as I tried to get down. Jon took hold of my leg as he guided me down. Afterward, Jon secures his hands to my waist.

The adrenaline from the flight still rushes through my veins. I stared into his dark eyes as he stared back with many emotions. Those dark eyes went to my mouth as his fingers tucked a loose strand of hair off my face, tracing my ear. Jon leaned in, pressing his lips against my own. I kissed him back, leaning into him. His hand slithers to the back of my head, under the braid, angling me for a deeper kiss. I parted my lips, which he took, sliding his tongue over mine. I clutched his gambeson, pulling him closer, as the desire danced through me.

"Imogen," he moaned.

"We should stop," I panted, except our lips continued to mold to one another.

A groan escaped him as he broke the kiss, putting a little bit of distance yet still keeping his hold. Even though we were far from Winterfell, we still had company from Rhaegal and the two direwolves waiting. The women were not joking about love marriages, and keeping our hands off one another was difficult.

"What do you think of flying?" Jon asked.

"It's different," I answered.

Jon nodded as he took my hand and led the way, "I think flying ruined horses for me."

"Didn't you say that with direwolves?" I countered. "Valko might haunt ye for that insult."

Jon chuckled, shaking his head as we reached the direwolves. Skadi was by my side, nuzzling into me. Sniffing to ensure I was alright. I petted her furs, letting her know I was fine…physically. Ghost did the same to Jon. Both were worried for us. Then again, there was a chance of falling.

"You think you might ride a dragon again?" Jon asked.

I stared at him, smirking. "Maybe tonight."

Jon placed his hand over his face, muttering something under his breath, followed by, "Don't tempt me, woman."

I couldn't help but laugh.

.o0o.

I was in a study. At first, I was assigned to a room that belonged to the Lady of Winterfell, but knowing that Lady Catelyn used it, it only seemed right to let Sansa have it. We tried to compromise this with the Stark siblings, as they have their bedrooms—except for Sansa, for at the time, Jon was not declared king and gave her the master bedroom.

There will be some adjustments when everyone is ready. I did not care as long as Jon and I had a room to share. Many thoughts linger on the dynamics of House Stark, with the union of both the main branch and the Wild Starks. All of us are trying to maintain a kingdom.

I sighed, staring at Skadi, who was sitting by the fireplace. When I was assigned this room, I found easy access to Skadi. Many of the servants were baffled by this. Having Ghost and Summer through the halls was one thing, but a full-grown direwolf was another. I did not care.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I called out.

The door opened as Daenerys came in.

I stood up, "Your Grace."

She lifted her hand, "No need for that, from one queen to another."

"I think there is a difference between a ruling queen and a consort," I countered.

"True, but I think about you as my equal," she said, then gestured to the chair. "May I?"

"Yes, forgive me, I am still learning about formalities," I said, gesturing to the chair across the desk.

Daenerys nodded with a reassuring smile as she came over and took a seat. "I do not blame you for many changes, from being a spearwife to wife and consort."

I nodded, taking a seat. We stared at each other for some time. I don't know why she was here.

"We have barely spoken for some time, and I wanted to make sure you were alright," she said.

I kept a neutral expression. I'm not sure if this was a manipulation tactic or not.

"I'm doing well," I assured her. "Just…it's a lot."

"I know the feeling," she replied. "When I became Khaleesi, I thought my concerns were the women, elderly, and children in the Khalasar. If not, provide a khalakka for my husband."

"Khalakka? I repeated.

Daenerys gave a sad smile, "Prince."

I inhale sharply, wondering if this was a conversation about heirs.

"When my husband died, I had led my own khalasar, as many had abandoned me. Every day and every night, I worried for my people. Finding ways to keep them alive in trying times. As starvation was our greatest enemy."

"I thought you were queen of Meereen?" I replied.

"I was, and even then, I had to play a dangerous game with the Masters and make peace between the free slaves and the Masters." She explained. "You are playing a similar game between the Free Folk and the Northmen."

I continued to stare at her, wondering where this was going.

"We've both known what it means to lead people who aren't inclined to accept a woman's rule," she explained. "And we both did a good damn job of it, from what I can tell."

I smiled a little, and she did in return.

"I want to be your friend and ally," she said. "Even though we will be many kingdoms apart, I want us to be friends."

"I would like that, though friendship will be tedious with winter here," I said. "I hope you don't hold it against me."

"I understand, for your goal has been to keep your people safe. Both the Free Folk and the Northmen." She assured, yet grew serious. "All my life, I've known one goal: the Iron Throne. Taking back from the people who destroyed my family and almost destroyed your husband's family."

I took a deep breath, for I knew the truth. A part of me wanted to tell her the truth about the war, except that it would put Jon in danger. As much as Daenerys wanted to be my friend. We can't be truly friends. Had she learned about Jon's parentage, would she have seen him as a threat or considered any children I have with Jon to be hers?

"I'm thankful for your support and the sacrifices you have made in the Great War," I said. "Not only for the North but all of Westeros."

Daenerys nodded in agreement, "Can I give you some advice?"

I nodded.

"People will always expect something from you," she said. "And being a woman, they will try to manipulate you. You and I did not get the same education as the Noble Houses. Once you make up your mind, stick to it. Make sure Jon does not falter under the pressure of others."

I snorted, "Already the groveling has started."

Daenerys chuckled, "That tends to be the first step."

I sighed, then looked at her, "Can I give you some advice?"

She nodded with a smile.

"Do not let your emotions control you," I said.

Her smile faltered as she stared at me.

"I may not know all of Westeros as it is today, yet the one thing I have seen in visions of the past is that when emotions are high, mistakes are made, and lives are lost. I have seen it with many from your ancestors, with or without dragons. The kings that received glory and respect from the realm kept their emotions in line. Although violence can win many, it does not bring nations together."

Daenerys stared at me for a bit as her violet eyes darkened slightly. Her only response is a nod. The study was engrossed in silence, except for the sounds of the fire crackling in the fireplace. I was not trying to threaten her but giving her a warning. For one can not lead through emotions.

Suddenly, she said, "Any heirs."

I groaned, "I'm not pregnant."

"Are you sure?" she asked with an amused smirk.

"Yes," I ground out. "I already had my bleeds."

Daenerys chuckled; no doubt my face was flustered. It has become a nuisance with the concept of an heir. It has barely been two months, and I notice how the staff and noble lords here act. It is up to the gods to decide. Although a part of me is wishing for one, in case…. In case Jon does not survive this war. Even though I will have his mark on my neck…I want something permanent. Not as the next King in the North, but for me to remember him by.

Daenerys then gave a sad smile, "I was once with child. His name was Rhaego, and I had named him after my husband and brother."

I did not know this. I thought she was trying to have a child with her late husband.

"But I made a foolish mistake, desperate to heal my husband, a witch poisoned him. Drogo fell ill and fell off his horse. A Khal is no longer a Khal if he falls off his horse," She explained. "In my desperation, the witch tricked me. She used blood magic, a life for a life. I thought Drogo's horse would pay the price. Instead, it was my son's."

My eyes widened.

"I never held my son when he was born," she continued. "I do not know what he truly looked like, except the descriptions of his decay form. I pray you never experience what I have gone through."

"I'm sorry you went through that," I murmured.

Daenerys nodded as she stood, "You will make a good queen consort. I have already seen it."

"And how do you know?" I asked.

"For you have risked your life to save the man you love," she answered.

This baffled me as Daenerys left the study.

.o0o.

The rest of the day, I followed my routine. I went to the Great Hall to check on the wounded, change bandages, or restitch wounds. Boudica and those in charge of healing appreciated the extra help. I tried to keep myself distracted, if not spending more time with my mother. Boudica seemed to notice this. Afterward, I would walk around the grounds to see progress, as the twins would follow.

Mentally exhausted, I returned to my chambers. It was late, and I asked for food to be brought up to my chambers. When the maid asked about a bath, I paused, thinking of the last time I had a proper bath—probably before the wedding. The maid nodded as I assembled the herbs for the bath. Several people came in, bringing a tub and hot water.

I always found this part strange. There is no designated area for a bath, bathing chamber, or bathhouse to wash oneself. I waited and took one hot bucket to put the herbs in a poultice, mixing rosemary, birch leaves, and dried nettle leaves before settling them in the hot water.

Once the bath was set, the maid turned to me, "Do you need any assistance?"

"Thank you, but no," I said.

The maid nodded as she and her ladies left the chamber. Once I knew I was alone, I stripped my clothes, undid my braids, grabbed a rag, and used a basin of water to rinse myself. Making sure there was no dirt or grime. Afterward, I took a stool with the hot bucket with the herbs and began washing my hair, stripping the oils with a bit of soap that was provided. Massaging the solution into my scalp. I then got in the tub, dunked my head, and rinsed whatever solution was left before resting my head on the tub's edge.

I sighed, staring at the fire while clearing my mind.

In a few days, things will be different. Jon will be heading south with the armies to defeat Cersei Lannister. A week or so after that, the Free Folk will be heading back to the True North or the territories along the Wall. And then, it will be the Starks and myself running a kingdom.

Waiting.

Waiting for the Northern armies to return and a supposed peace with House Targaryen.

Waiting for Jon's return.

I still can't get this feeling that something terrible will happen.

In a moment like this, I wish I had greensight, willing to accept the consequences to get a glimpse of the future. Just something to ensure that this was an ordinary battle. No, it was not a battle. It was a siege, a fancy way to say it was a raid. Lord Tyrion assured that the armies would form a blockade to prevent anyone from leaving King's Landing and that the battles would be with the Greyjoy Fleet and the Golden Company. After those battles, the people will overthrow Cersei. Just as the slaves who free themselves in the Bay of Dragons.

A slave is not the same as smallfolk.

I sighed once more, resting an arm over my face along the eyes.

I know that I am done fighting, and I promise Jon that I will not partake in this war…but I can't get this feeling to go away.

Maybe because the dragons are now involved and memories from visions of the past, knowing the destruction that dragon fire can cause.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind and listen to the crackling sounds of the fire.

Time went on when the door creaked open. Knowing who it was, I did not bother, as the person closed the door and locked it. The individual made his way around, setting several things away and sitting on the bed. I opened my eyes to see Jon. A tired smile lifted his lip as he stared at me.

"Come join me," I offered.

"I doubt we both fit," he murmured, working on his jerkin.

"We'll make it work," I replied, cupping the water and pouring it down my chest.

"Temptress," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Fancy words," I purred.

Jon stripped his clothes, taking his jerkin and shirt off. Next, he worked on his boots, unlacing the strings and yanking them off along with other things before he stood, removing his trousers. I adjusted myself, providing space, as he stepped inside, taking the other end. The water sloshed some, nearly spilling over. As the space vanished, Jon sighed, leaning against the edge, arms on the sides. As the hot water eased his muscles, he closed his eyes.

Slowly, so as not to cause a mess, I grabbed the soap and rag. I made my way over to him, positioned between his legs. Jon opened his eyes half-lidded but did not protest. Carefully, I washed his chest, noting the bruises were nearly gone, with yellowish blotches on his ribs. I lathered the soap into the drench rag before washing his skin. This was nothing sexual, for I simply wanted to clean him. Jon sighed as he closed his eyes.

I continued to wash his chest, being gentle around the ragged scar and the rune of protection. Next, I focus on his shoulders and neck. I took a strand of his lock, noting that it was getting oily.

"You need to wash your hair," I murmured.

"I know," he sighed, opening his eyes.

I chuckled softly as I took one of his arms, "But not tonight."

"How many times do the Dires wash?" he asked.

"If we are in Lunar Haven or our territories, at least once a week," I murmured. "Not a basin of water, but an actual bath. Stripping everything and tending to our grooming standards."

"Is that so," he murmured.

I nodded, taking his hands, massaging the joints, and washing between the fingers.

"We are thankful for the hot springs and rivers that go through," I added. "Cleaning oneself is the best way to stay healthy."

"I take it you enjoy baths," he teased.

I set his hand down and gave the other the same treatment: "Very. But I do not splurge."

Jon squeezed my hand, "You can now. Winterfell is on several hot springs."

I gave a hum, giving him a kiss, "Don't tempt me."

His other hand then went around my waist, pulling me closer, and I pressed entirely against him. His lips moved against my own. His hand spread across the small of my back, sliding up my spine and cupping the back of my neck. He kept me there as we kissed. The newfound lust that had control over us took over.

His hand flexes my nape, and I expose my maiden mark. Jon broke the kiss, making his way down and kissing that area. As he let the marriage mark heal more. His breathing ragged as his cock hardened against my thigh.

"Should we take this to the bed?" I murmured.

Jon hummed as his fingers slid over my breast, dripping the water droplets on the nipple. I gasped as my nipples hardened while he claimed one to his mouth. The sensation, from his lips on my nipple and beard on my breast. The sensation roars through my body, and I place my hands on his shoulders, bracing myself. Jon suddenly nips, and that had me gasping.

"I will not bathe on your seeds," I whimpered.

Jon tilted his head, staring at me.

"Your seeds belong in my womb," I reminded him.

It was not that I did not want to have sex with him in the tub. Only that this tub was small, let alone we would have to wash ourselves again. Something I do not want to speak with the maids about. Let alone our food arriving. Jon, either grasping it or respecting my request, nodded. We rinse, yet our lips still claim one another. Once out, we skipped the drying and went straight to the bed. Jon sitting down as I straddle his lap.

"Why are you hard to resist," I murmured, kissing along his jaw.

"I can say the same thing about you," he replied, his hands on my hips, giving a squeeze.

I panted, moved to his ear, and took the lobe into my mouth.

Jon groaned as one hand cupped between my legs, fingertips tracing along the slit between the fold, then touching my clit. I moaned, already aroused, as my essence started to drip. I lifted my head slightly, staring at Jon, seeing those eyes darken to nearly black. Then he slides two of his fingers inside me, stretching me so that I gasp. Seeing no protest, Jon removed his hand, I choked on a protest, yet Jon began to rub me slowly as his hand went back and forth, rubbing on the clit. I cursed, clutching his shoulders as my hips grind down onto his hands.

The stimulation and pressure built up as our eyes were still locked. I lean in, trying to kiss him, yet stop, as pleasure was building up, ready to convulse. Suddenly, he thrust two fingers inside me. I shriek, nails digging into his shoulders. Jon stares at me, watching me, as he moves his fingers, searching that spot within as he increases the pace.

I cursed, moving one hand down between us, taking his member and pumping him. Jon groaned as he closed his eyes, bowing his head to my shoulder. As he continues this movement. I felt his member, noting the hardness of his flesh, the veins pulsing under the skin, and the coarse dark hair at the base. Moving my wrist up and down, applying enough pleasure.

"Imogen," he groaned.

We were both close, yet I did not want to come undone just yet. So, removing my hand, I pushed Jon down on the bed. Jon opened his eyes, staring at me, while I removed his hand. I adjusted myself, taking his cock and aligning it to my entrance, teasing the tip along the clit. I then guided him inside me, lowering myself until he was all the way in. We both groan as I feel my walls stretch while they strangle his cock. Both of us panting, adjusting to each other.

Jon's hands rested on my waist while I moved my hips, going up and down, using my thighs and hips to set a pace. Resting my hands on his chest as I ride him. The pleasure once more building up, not at a fast pace. My focus was on his face, seeing the pleasure and agony that my body was giving him. Jon opens his eyes, the lust burning in them the same as my own. As he thrust upwards, meeting me halfway. I gasped every time he did that. Afterward, a hand makes its way back to my clit, rubbing it.

As if a rope had snapped, I climaxed, being ruptured from within as my walls trembled and clenched. A cry escaped my lips. Jon groans, thrusting away, chasing his release. I try moving my hips, trying to give him his pleasure. As his cock swells even more until he finally releases, spilling his seeds inside me. In my haze, I see his expression, with his eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar.

I panted, laying down on top of him while still being joined. Jon wraps his arm tight while still moving inside me, emptying his seeds. His heart is beating rapidly as his chest expands to breathe. Once he stopped, we laid there catching ourselves. I can feel his seeds coating inside me. I wonder if they will take root tonight.

I lean up, tucking the damp hair out of his face. He opened his eyes as his other hand cradled my cheek. I lean into it. Jon then brought me in for a gentle kiss. I return the same favor, savoring every touch I can get. For I do not want him to go.

Once breaking the kiss, I rested my forehead against him, "You are mine."

"Am I not?" he murmured.

"You will stay in our bed," I said. "Until your departure, you will stay here."

"And what shall I be doing?" he asked.

"Either pleasuring me or holding me," I answered.

"I think I can do that," he promised with a smirk.

I smirked back as I pecked the tip of his nose and then sat up straight. Jon groaned, for he was still inside me.

"But first, we need food," I added, carefully getting off as his cock slid out.

"Imogen," Jon groaned as he sat up, grabbed me by the waist, and forced me down on the bed.

I laughed, not resisting, as Jon hovered over me, giving me a kiss before he got up.

"Stay in bed," he grumbled.

I chuckled, adjusting myself as Jon got things sorted.

Even though we are adjusting to being active rulers, we can still find peace in our bedchamber.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review.