Chapter Text
“Not the way I love you. Is that alright?” Her words were hesitant, tentative, vulnerable. Terrified that everything had changed between them, gone too far for them to mend. Broken beyond saving. She hated it. She hated the power she had given him, hated that he had torn down her walls, her armour. Hated how she had given him his heart and now she waited, wondering if she would be left picking up the pieces to her broken heart.
His hands hovered before they cupped her face, rough thumbs brushing the apples of her cheeks. The stormy grey of his eyes were dark, but not glazed over with alcohol as she’d expected. She wondered when he had stopped drinking during the feast, was it before or after he had directed the praising of her and her people. “I’ve failed you enough,” he whispered, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. “You are the Queen I choose. The Queen I will see seated on the Iron Throne.” Doubt filled her, making her want to rip away and go lick her wounds in safety. But then his burned hand came down, pulling her left hand - the one adorned with her mother’s ring - and placed it above the rapid beat of his heart. “The Queen of my heart.” Her breath caught, eyes searching his own, searching for any hint of rejection. Any sign of disgust or fear. “My loyalty, my heart are yours, Daenerys. Although I believe I will never feel like I deserve you or your love.”
“Jon…” she breathed, even as his left arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Hope blossomed within her heart, making her feel lighter as his nose brushed her own. “My heart.” Her lips were caught by his own, a slow dance of lips as his right hand came back up to cup her jaw. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her, opening her mouth to his as the fire roared beside them. Nothing mattered at that moment. Just the two of them, hidden away from the rest of the world.
Her own hands were not idle, moving over his body as he walked them backwards to his bed. Too soon, she felt too hot. Too dressed. Her hands drifted to the dress Missandei had helped pick out for her, tugging at the heavy fabric that had kept her warm enough in the North. Jon’s hands soon joined hers, deftly working to help her get the top layer undone and dropped to the floor. Their kiss broken, her love’s mouth descending her neck, leaving love bites and beard burn as he went. She whimpered, hands tugging at the ties at the front of his gambeson, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin pressed against her, his lips on hers, his cock filling her. Letting their bodies show how much they loved each other. Wanted each other.
A laugh escaped her at the frustrated growl that escaped him, his hands tearing at the ties before his gambeson and tunic soon joined the pile of clothes on the floor, leaving them both in their breeches as his hands found her hips while her legs hit the footboard of his bed. She pressed up against him, intent on taking his mouth once more before he froze against her. Fear flooded her once more, making her breathing hitched when he pulled back - but not away. No, instead, her lover’s gaze had fallen to her stomach, hands coming to cup the small bump that had formed there. Oh .
“Dany,” he breathed, finally lifting his head to look her in the eye. “You’re… You’re with child?”
She had intended to tell him. She had sought him out the night of the battle to do just that but between the battle and everything that had happened in between, she’d never found the right moment to tell him he’d been right. That the witch hadn’t been the most reliable source of information. “You had a point to prove on the boat,” she breathed, watching him as his head came up from watching his hands cup their child growing within her. Her own hands came down to rest over his. “I never intended to hide it from you… I was waiting for the right time.” I was afraid you would pull away from me and only be with me as a duty to our child .
“A blessing,” he breathed, lifting his head as his arms snaked around her waist once more. “The Gods are cruel but they’ve given me the woman I've been praying for my whole life.” His voice was hoarse. His eyes were wet. And every ounce of doubt, fear that had threatened to drown her disappeared.
“You’re not upset?” she whispered, letting him pull her closer, her stomach pressing against the hard muscles of his warrior body. “Truly?”
He shook his head, hands coming over the curve of her arse before she was lifted into his arms, legs coming to wrap around his lean waist. “You are my every dream, my every prayer come true,” he promised before his mouth was capturing hers once more. Slower but no less passionate. Her hands drifted from their spot on his shoulders, fingers undoing the knot that kept his curls from his face until the raven strands framed his face in that way she adored. She drank from his lips, whimpering when he turned them and lay her down on the bedding and pulled back. His eyes were black from desire, and love, his hands gentle as they traced down her body. A cup of her sensitive teats, a tease over her even more sensitive nipples, a soothing trace over the small bump that was their babe. She swallowed the lump in her throat when he bent over, pressing a soft kiss to her stomach before his hands were helping her out of her boots, her breeches and small clothes soon greeting the floor to leave her completely bare on his bed.
“My Queen. A goddess sent to be my salvation and my damnation,” he kissed her stomach once more before he was pressing soft, nipping kisses up her body until he reached her lips once more. “I will spend the next thousand years trying to prove I deserve you.” Her heart swelled at the declaration, pulling him down to kiss him once more. His kiss was feverish as much as it was wolfish. Who could love a dragon? She’d finally found her answer; her shadow lover, her dragon wolf, her winter king.
Panting, he broke the kiss, his mouth moving down her neck, nipping at lapping at her skin before he was making his way further down. Her hands stayed in his hair, holding on as he went further, sucking on her breasts until his lips found her sensitive nipples. A gasping whimper escaped her as he lapped and sucked on the sensitive buds, her body arching under his touch. She’d missed how he made her feel. Missed his lips, his body on her own. And yet, with her revelation, he seemed to know how tender her breasts were, never going too far before it hurt. Kisses were pressed to the underside of each mound before he was making his way further down, his hands gently prying her legs open so he could lay between them. The Lord’s Kiss . Since he’d introduced her to it, there was rarely a night or morning where he had not bestowed such a pleasure upon her.
His name fell from her lips in a strangled gasp when she felt his lips drag along the inside of her thighs, his teeth marking her skin before he finally reached between her legs. A whimper followed and she couldn’t help but moan his name when he pressed kisses along her cunt, ghosting over where she needed him most.Instead, he seemed intent on kissing every inch of her cunt before he would give her his tongue. One leg was pushed to the side, the other hooked over his shoulder, giving him all the room and leverage he needed to feast on her juices. Finally, his tongue licked along the seam of her cunt, and her hands flew to the raven curls that adorned his head, tugging and tightening as one hand gently banded over her hips to keep her in place for his devouring.
She was a mess, a moaning, wanton mess when he brought his other hand to join his tongue, one then two fingers pushed inside, giving her empty cunt something to clench upon as her lover worked her up. Her body sensitive to everything he was doing, her hips bucked under his administrations that had him smirking against her folds as he used her new sensitivity to his advantage. “Kessa. Kessa, Jon.” Her body arched as a third finger had her on the edge of her climax, moaning and thrashing under his mouth, wanting nothing more than for him to flick his tongue over and suck on her sensitive bud to send her over. The fear of losing him was gone from her mind as her love worked her into a babbling mess, unsure of whether the words that left her lips were the Common Tongue or Valaryian.
She begged for release, whimpering loud to match the noise that was escaping him - pleased groans and grunts against her body as he feasted. Hips bucking as Jon continued to thrust his fingers inside her, curling them ever-so-slightly as her thighs began to quiver before he finally gave her what he wanted. His tongue flicked over her clit teasingly before he sucked it between his lips. It was enough to send her over the edge, his name falling from her lips in a strangled scream as she arched off the bed.
Jon groaned against her as she gushed around his fingers and into his mouth. He continued to lap at her cunt until she was forced to push his head away, shivering from the oversensitivity she felt. He could feel her juices all over his mouth, grinning as he moved to take off his own breeches and small clothes, his boots haphazardly kicked away before he was joining her once more, cock hard and aching as he returned to his spot between her spread legs. He couldn’t help but stroke himself slowly, waiting for her to open her eyes once more.
“Come here,” she breathed, panting when he rubbed the head of his cock along her cunt, coating his thick, hard length in her juices. “Fuck me. Don’t leave your Queen waiting.” Her words earned a growl before he hooked both elbows under her knees, practically bent in half and primed to take his cock deep. “Yes. Jon. Just like this.” Her own hands came up to tug at her own sensitive nipples as he teasingly fed her the first thick inch, making her whimper. She had missed this, missed him, missed them. She wanted to feel him the next morning, to feel it in every step she took. To feel how he chose her, chose them.
Her lover was nothing if not a giving lover, feeding her cunt the rest of his cock until he bottomed out, earning a loud, pleased mewl. He grabbed both of her hands, forcing them above her head as he slowly grinded his hips against hers.She whimpered, taking all he had to give her, letting him please her in all the ways he knew how. “I’m yours and you are mine,” he promised as he slowly started to rock his hips, pulling out just enough so she was still stretched around an inch or two before he was filling her up again, stretching her cunt around his cock in that way she loved. He released her left hand, ducking his head to suck at her nipples, leaving them soaked from his lips.
She didn’t leave it idle for long, using her now freed hand to pull Jon back up to her lips, crashing her mouth against his kissing him hungrily as their hips worked together. She never wanted this to end, wasn’t aware of where he ended and she started. Her fingers got lost in his raven curls before she was breaking the kiss to throw her head back and moan. “Please. Please. Kessa. Kessa.” His name followed as she tightened further around his thrusting cock, both of them panting as his thrusts moved her up the bed, the headboard rattling against the walls of the ancient keep.
“Cum for me, Dany,” Jon whispered, his voice hoarse with desire as he moved his lips to Daenerys’ ear, her breath hitching as he fucked her deeper. “My Queen. Mother of our child. My heart.” His words sent her over the edge, his name whimpered as she came around him. She could feel him continue to move inside her, prolonging her orgasm. She moaned and cried out as each thrust dragged along every spot inside her. She couldn’t help but bring her hand under Jon's right arm, nails digging into his shoulder blade as white stars formed behind her closed eyelids.
Jon groaned as he felt her clench and flutter around him. He let her legs fall from his shoulders, his thrusts turning more to that of a slow grind as he buried his face against her neck, lips and tongue working together to mark her skin. She gasped, legs coming to hook over his thighs with each deep thrust. Her hand came under his right shoulder, clinging to him as his left hand pinned her right to the sheets, fingers interlaced as he rocked his hips into hers. “Jon. Kessa. Kessa.” His left hand was planted beside her head, cupping the base of her head as he brought his head up and swallowed her moans and his groans with their mouths.
He would be her undoing. She clenched around him, breaking the kiss to gasp in air as he ground his hips against hers. Her mouth found his ear, whimpering as he fucked her into his bed. Moving her head, her lips found his ear as she begged, “Fill me up. Give me your seed, Jon.” Her lips sucked on the lobe of his ear, making him groan loud and clear, hips stuttering a moment. “Fill me with your seed, my love.”
Jon grunted before he kissed her hard, changing the angle of his thrusts as he moved, her strong thighs moving to wrap around him. The dirty words rushing from her lips always triggered something darker and primitive inside of him. Daenerys cried out as she came again suddenly. Her spasming cunt pulled her lover into his own orgasm, his left hand tightening around her right, shouting her name as he came deep inside her, his seed coating the walls of her cunt.
He continued to grind, dragging out their orgasms until her thighs tightened to hold him still. His lips found hers, drinking slowly as her hand found its way to his hair, fingers getting lost in the raven curls as he kissed her slowly.
Eventually, he pulled out of her, the two of them whining before Jon rolled them over so that Dany could lay on his chest. Her head rested over his heart, focusing on the slowing beat of his heart as they continued to catch their breath, his arms wrapped around her. His lips pressed against her forehead, hands tracing random shapes along her back before he was gently lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye.
“I’m sorry, love,” he started, making her brow furrow in confusion. “For ever making you doubt I want you, that I love you.” He swallowed, his forehead resting against her own. “I felt so lost, Dany.” His confession was met by a gentle tracing of his bearded jawline, the tips of her fingers moving along his jaw. “For so long, I’d spent so much time trying to figure out who I was, who Jon Snow was… And now I’m meant to be Aemon Targaryen… I don’t know who Aemon is.” His eyes fluttered closed, a deep, shuddering breath escaping him. “I’m left questioning whether I’m a Stark, a Snow or a Targaryen and I just feel so lost.”
“You don’t have to choose,” she whispered, her nose brushing against his, his eyes fluttering open to look at her lilac ones. “You don’t have to choose, Jon.” Her lips pressed against her corner of his, a reassuring smile on her lips. “Your name does not define your qualities.” Her other hand came to rest over the nervous beat of his heart. “The man who owns this heart… The man who stood in open rebellion to gain the support of a Queen his people hate… The man who was willing to give his life to protect the people he loves… That is who you are. Whatever name you choose to take…. That does not define you.”
His eyes were wet as he stared at her, an inhuman whimper escaping him before he captured her lips in a desperate kiss, pulling her closer if possible. She didn’t know how long they spent drinking from each other’s mouths before he was pulling away, his chest raising and falling in deep breaths as both his hands came to cup her face.
“I will see you sit on the Iron Throne, Dany,” he promised, making her breathing hitch at the determination in his tone. “I will be your sword in the darkness, your watcher in the night.” Her eyes grew wet, realising the words he had once recited on the boat to her when she had asked about his time in the Night’s Watch. Only this time, he was not pledging his life to the watch, but to her. “You are the fire that burns against the cold, the light that shall bring the dawn and I shall be the shield that guards you in the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to you, my Queen, for this night and all the nights to come.” He finished his oath with a kiss to her lips, his nose brushing hers, his hand brushing over their babe growing inside her before he pulled back. “Daemon made mistakes during the Dance of the Dragons but I will learn from our grandsire’s mistakes… I will ensure you will be safe and you will sit on your Throne, and our children after you. Because of all the things I am most afraid of, Dany… losing you is my greatest fear.”
“Jon,” she whimpered, hands coming to cup his jaw, tears building as she fought the lump in her throat. Any fears she’d had were completely, thoroughly burned to ash. “I -...” It was rare for her to be lost for words and yet here he was, tearing her defences down like a tidal wave upon the rocks. “I love you.”
“Avy jorrāelan,” he whispered, smiling at the choked whimper, his thumb brushing the tear that had escaped her. “Did I say that right? I asked Missandei to teach me some things so I could say them to you. She said we’ll have to work on my accent.”
“You’re trying to make me cry,” she gasped, kissing him chastely. “What else has she taught you?” She pressed as close as she could.
He smiled then, looking younger than he did amongst their people. His nose brushed her own, hand never leaving her face. “Gevie. Issa prūmia. Issa dāria.” More tears fell, his name sobbed in a way he knew anyone but her best friend and he would be told it was the babe while Missandei and he knew it was the romantic inside Daenerys. “She got great enjoyment in teaching me the beginning of how I could show you how much I love you.” A soft kiss pressed to her lips before he whispered, “Dīnagon issa?”
His question caught her off guard, her breath stopping as she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Jon?” She had to have misheard him. He didn’t, he couldn’t… Could he?
“Marry me, Daenerys Stormborn. Not for the throne or your crown. But because I love you.” His words were sure, but rushed, as if he was afraid she would reject his proposal. “I’d planned on asking you tonight, going to you if you hadn’t come here. Missandei had helped me learn the words, I just didn’t know if you would want me.” He swallowed, his hand coming back down to their babe. “And now that I know of our child, I also do not want them to grow up with whispers of being a bastard. Our child will never feel unwanted, unloved. Nor shall you, if you have me, Issa dāria.”
“Kessa, dārys hen issa prūmia. Kessa, nyke jāhor dīnagon ao.” She kissed him, laughing against his lips as he kissed her back, pulling her as close as he could. In that moment he understood the questions Maester Aemon had asked him a lifetime ago. What is honour compared to a woman’s love? And what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? He would burn the whole known world to keep her and their child safe. He knew, in that moment, the boy who had once existed within the walls of Winterfell was truly, finally killed. Kill the boy, Jon Snow… Kill the boy and let the man be born. And as Dany pushed him down to the bed, her strong thighs either side of his hips, he knew that he would be the man she needed.