Elbowing his way through the crowd of dirty, swearing smallfolk, Jon stood out from the drab yellows and browns by the dark grey leather of the north. No one paid him any heed. Everyone seemed to be going about their own business. Such suited him fine. Eyes watching the massive grain ships in the harbor - filled to the brim for Karhold - all he wanted was some air… time away from the manse. From her.
The woman I cannot ever have.
Bile rose in his throat and his heart clenched at the thought. Dany… When did they last talk? A week before? Longer? He hoped that by now the pain of leaving her would be less.
He knew such to be a lie. Every moment with her, every bit of levity and happiness only stoked the desire for more in his heart. Oh how he wished that it was he that she prepared to wed. He that was being gifted such a beauty, the most breathtaking, amazing girl in the known world.
Any man would fall in love with her in an instant… but I cannot afford to. Jon wished he could be allowed to love Daenerys Targaryen, but she belonged to someone else. Was a highborn Valyrian while he was simply a northern bastard. No matter how good he could ever be, simply being that made him unworthy of her. Even if she does feel the same way.
But even a bastard could dream. Dreams of two brilliant violet eyes. The ones that haunted his dreams even now, before he had to let her go. Though no Weirwood tree stood south of the Vale, Jon remembered how he prayed to the old gods. "Please, let us be together. I will give you anything, even my life, to be with her." A moment of weakness, one he was not proud of, but even now he felt that she was worth it.
Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Dany.
Mind still on her, unable to stop the smile forming on his face, Jon didn't notice the person approaching him till he stumbled into them. "Oof…" Nimble footwork kept him upright, but he flushed red with embarrassment as he moved to help the figure up from the dusty stone. His hands enclosed around dainty female fingers. "Forgive me, please, my lady. I wasn't paying attention…"
"It is alright, Jon Snow." Jon stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he stared in the eyes of the hooded figure. "My name is Kinvara. Yes, I know your name, and the one on your mind. She is a lovely woman."
The woman pulled back the hood, revealing a younger girl with pretty raven hair, golden eyes with a reddish tint, and a slightly bulbous nose. Breathtakingly gorgeous - yet not as beautiful as Dany in Jon's opinion. "What… what do you want?" He wasn't used to such attention. Hells, even Dany's attention often perplexed the young bastard.
"What I want is not to come to pass for a long, long time. But I know it involves you and your sweetheart. Which is why…" The strange woman took a long bundle from under her cloak and thrust it into Jon's chest. "This is for you, a perfect gift for your lady love. Do not worry, Jon Snow, you will have yours soon enough." Jon just stared at her. "The night is dark and full of terrors, but you shall be the light."
Before Jon could respond, she was gone. Disappeared into the bustle of the market. Hefting the package, pulling back the red cloth that covered it, the item underneath glinted in the sun.
His eyes widened. Who… who would willingly part from this?
Someone mad.
But all Jon could figure out was how perfect the gift from the strange woman actually was.
Two servants placing a large chest onto the floor of Illyrio's solar, Daenerys stared at it quietly. Unsure of what to say. Her brother didn't have the same qualms. "What is this?"
"A wedding gift, for the future Khaleesi," boomed the merchant, hands clutching his plump belly. "Something that is worth quite a lot to those of House Targaryen."
"The only thing that matters to me is getting my army and my throne back," Viserys hissed.
In all honesty, Daenerys had barely heard a word her brother said. All her mind was focused on was either what had happened only a few days before - or trying to forget what happened. Just remembering the words from her likely former friend's mouth made her heart feel like it had been run in with a sword. Dany couldn't take it. Even for the blood of the dragon, it was too much.
But when Illyrio opened the chest, her mind cleared up. Eyes drawn to what was nestled within. "Dragon eggs, Princess," Ilyrio proclaimed. "From the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. While time has turned them to stone, they are still beautiful - the perfect gift for a Targaryen."
Mesmerized by them, Dany stared upon the eggs. Reaching out to touch them, swirling patterns on the stones calling out for her attention. To be held. But just as her hands moved to them, Viserys snarled and shut the chest. "Do you think I care about stones? Dragons are gone, extinct! We need something that will help us! Like the slave I bought for my sister, one who will teach her how to please the Khal in bed!"
For Daenerys, her eyes merely widened in horror. There it was, the certainty of her future brought back like an onrushing bull mammoth. She was to be married to the Dothraki Khal. Sold like a common slave - by her brother nonetheless. The last family she had left. Of the sweet boy of their childhood, nothing remained. Madness had set in, leaving him cold and obsessed with power.
Her discomfort and grief wasn't even noticed by him. "You must listen to your future King, Daenerys, for he possesses all the intelligence that is lacking in a mere woman." He ran his hand along her cheek. It was revolting to the touch, clammy and cold. "I know how to play a man like Drogo. I give him a Queen, and he gives me an army."
"I don't want to be his Queen," she blurted quietly, almost a whisper. It just slipped out. Part of the confidence her time with the northmen taught her rushed to the surface, only to die down upon being reminded of where she was and who she spoke to. Under his peering gaze, she retreated into her usual meekness. "I want…" Jon. She wanted Jon. "I want to go home."
"I do too." Viserys had a puzzled smirk on his face, as if he was surprised she said such a stupid thing - but too dense to read between the lines. "I want us both to go home, but we can only do so at the head of an army. Khal Drogo's army." His hand returned to her cheek, stroking it. It made Dany nauseous. Once resigned to having to marry him to keep the bloodline strong, compared to one kiss from Jon she found she could not do it. Her brother's lack of concern for her only solidified her inner disgust.
"I would let his whole tribe fuck you, them and their horses, for that army, sweet sister." Feeling his lips kiss her on the forehead, soon Dany found herself alone in the room. Totally and completely alone as she was most of her life.
Running to the chest, Daenerys opened it. Grabbing an egg one at a time. Sliding to the ground. Wrapping them in her arms, protectively around her chest, Dany fought back the tears that threatened to form. Once again denied even the littlest comfort from another, she missed the moments she had with Jon. A connection existed between them, one that didn't make sense to her - but it was there, Daenerys knew it and was certain the raven-haired wolf knew as well. My wolf.
The feel of the eggs gave her warmth, but sobs still wracked her. She needed his comfort, his words of wisdom and kindness, but they weren't available. After their kiss, the happiest moment in her life, he had fled thanks to his insecurities. She cried for what hurt him so.
"You are not a bastard to me." No one around her, the words were lost to the silence.
While nowhere near as cunning as the Master of Whisperers, the cloaked figure stalking through the slums of Pentos had managed to use sources of his own to find the exact address of the person he was seeking - among other, far more juicy tidbits of information. Confident, he gently rapped on the rotting wooden door. Sounds of steps and groans came from inside.
"What?" an irate Jorah Mormont ground out before being pushed roughly into his room. Previously fast asleep, he was wide awake now. Anyone would have been with a sharp blade pressed against their throat. "Please, I don't have much money."
The figure drew back his cloak to reveal Eddard Stark, hard steel in his grey eyes. "It is not money I am after, Mormont," he said evenly.
Jorah sighed. He had expected this might happen ever since running into the Warden of the North at Illyrio's mansion. The disgraced noble had made his peace. "Go ahead, my Lord," he said respectfully. "Carry out my sentence. I submit to your justice."
"I am not going to kill you for that, Mormont," Ned rasped, keeping his voice low but the blade firm. "However, I know the real reason why you're offering your services to the Targaryens." He smirked darkly. "You intend to sell information to Robert Baratheon for a royal pardon."
Eyes widening, Jorah wracked his brain for what could have tipped Stark off. He found nothing. "What is your business if I did?" he croaked, sweat pouring from his brow. "You hate the Targaryens as much as he does."
"Aye, I hate the Mad King with all my heart and soul, but the Mad King is dead." Deciding it was time, he lessened the hold he kept on Jorah's neck. "The girl is innocent, Mormont. No harm can come to her."
"That can't be the true reason." A voice in his head told him it was a bad idea to press his tormentor, but he was curious and Ned weakening the sword's hold made him bold. This went beyond honor.
Ned closed his eyes, and when they opened Jorah was shocked to find pure emotion. Grief. "Long ago, I promised one I loved with all my heart that I would protect someone." An image flashed before his eyes, of a laughing Jon, happy and at ease for the first time in his life. He was with Daenerys, sparring with her - there was no doubt in his mind that she was the cause of his happiness. Denial was counterproductive. Jon had found his dragon, as Lyanna found hers. He was too late and too trusting to protect her, but he could and would protect Jon. In totality. "And I am fulfilling that promise, though it has now expanded in scope." He took a deep breath. "I am offering you a chance to redeem yourself."
This Jorah did not expect. Here was a chance, not just to go back home but a chance to atone for his shame, to make his family and father proud again. No royal pardon could do so, but a pardon from the Warden of the North could. "What must I do?" The decision was easy.
"First, let me say this. I always liked you, Jorah. You were honorable and good, which is why it pained everyone in the north when you did what you did." His eyes met Jorah's, sheathing the sword back into its scabbard. "Do you regret it?"
"Every day." There was nothing that Jorah wanted more than to take it all back.
"Good." Ned rested a hand on a battered table, leaning on it. "There are things I know. Things only I can bear, but that doesn't mean others can be useful to me in this." He steeled himself. "The wedding will not happen, Jorah."
Jorah blinked. "Why?" He knew what wedding Ned was referring to. "Why would you take pity on the Targaryen girl?"
"Princess Daenerys." He met the disgraced Mormont's eyes again. "I suggest you refer to her by her true title." There was no arguing with his tone, Jorah nodding. "I will not let Princess Daenerys be raped by that savage. She will be leaving here, far away from here, but you are to stay with the Dothraki and wait."
Sitting across from him, Jorah narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Wait for what?"
"You will know what it is when it happens. It may be months, it may be years, but you are to stay with the Khalasar until my instructions come. Follow them, and you'll get your pardon." Ned raised an eyebrow. "Do we have a deal?" Jorah nodded, sealing it with a clasp of hands.
"Be patient Khaleesi," Doreah smiled wanly, trying to put her at ease. "This will be over soon."
Nodding, Daenerys nevertheless felt all her blood rush to her cheeks, flushing them with color. For a girl cloistered all her life - not from the existence of sex but certainly the nature of the act itself - one couldn't help but be just a tiny bit mortified. That all the lessons put images of one handsome northman into her head doesn't help matters.
A chuckle left the lips of her new handmaiden - the slave purchased by her brother. "Pay attention." A gentle hand coaxed the embarrassed Dany to look at her. "It's the eyes, Khaleesi. Always keep your eyes on your beloved." Grinning sultrily, Doreah rolled her hips around Dany's, miming the sex act for her new lady. "Love comes in at the eyes."
"Does it?" Remembering a pair of grey orbs, boring into her soul, Dany began to appreciate the words. 'Perhaps she is right.'
"Oh yes. Irogenia or Lys was said to have finished a man by simply looking them in the eye."
Dany raised an eyebrow. "Finish a man?" Watching Doreah smirk, realization dawned on her face - along with yet another blush. "Oh." Thinking of Jon doing just that made her blush even more crimson. "I don't think J… Drogo would like me being on top."
"Dothraki take slaves like a hound takes a bitch, Khaleesi. A man desires something that they never had, and it is the wife's job to please him so greatly with those skills that he never strays." She mimes riding her, showing her the proper way to ride a man when Doreah suddenly stops. "Wait, you almost said another name, not your intended's." Her eyes flashed interest. "Hmmm, so there is someone else that you lust for? And yet your skill is that of a prudish Westerosi spinster." She giggled at Dany's half-glare. "If you made love before, then you wouldn't be this inexperienced Khaleesi - so I'd take it that he is one that takes what he wants as well?"
"What… no…" By now, Dany felt she'd be beet red - as if covered in dust from the Red Waste. "I've never done… that."
"No? Such a shame for your preferred lover. You are a rare beauty, Daenerys of House Targaryen." Carefully stepping off her, Doreah readjusted her skirt "It is too bad Khaleesi, that you have not had a lover before. At least then you would know what true affection is."
Dany blinked back a tear. "I know… but it cannot be."
Climbing off her, Doreah only smiled. Placing a comforting hand on Daenerys' shoulder. "If you are to marry the Khal, all they care about is fertility. Purity means nothing compared to bearing strong sons - if I were you, I'd find the man you fancy and have him."
"But…"
"Trust me, Khaleesi. It is better when someone who loves you is your first. Don't let the chance slip away." With that Doreah left, shutting the door behind her.
The handmaiden's words playing back in her mind, Dany thought of Jon. Her Jon, the northern warrior that swept into her life and made her feel loved. Like the most beautiful woman in the world. He doesn't want me. She thought bitterly.
She quickly composed herself. I am blood of the dragon. If any person was capable of decisive action, it was Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Standing, she made her way out of the room. She knew what she wanted and would obtain it no matter what.
Every muscle aching, Jon collapsed onto the bed. Illyrio kept his house stocked with plenty of fresh water - all available at a call for a servant - and for this Jon was grateful. Even with the sea breeze the heat was overpowering, and cool water felt welcome on his skin. Hair damp from both sweat and where he splashed water on it to cool, changed into a clean tunic he allowed himself the moment of recovery following his mid-afternoon training session.
He was exerting himself past mere exhaustion. Unlike someone like Theon Greyjoy, Jon wasn't dense enough to deny the undeniable. Pushing himself to the breaking point every day turned his muscles into limp rags by dinner, and if he kept it up only trouble would result. But Jon needed the solace training provided. Needed the escape venting his anger through his sword gave him. Needed to get the image of her devastation out of his mind.
Needed to get her out of his mind.
"You deserve more than a bastard." Words still as true as they were when first spoken. Jon's heart ached from having to turn her away, from breaking what had been his only real connection to a person not his family. 'She was just my friend, nothing more.' He had to believe that, to believe the kiss meant nothing. It haunted his dreams, how much he wanted her, but he knew it was for the best.
Hearing a loud thump on his door, Jon blinked the tiredness from his eyes and rose, wincing at the soreness. Expecting his father, his mouth dropped at the sight of the very person that haunted his thoughts so. "Daenerys…"
"Out of my way." Without so much as a greeting, the silver-blonde goddess pushed her way past him and into the room. Her lips were pursed in a determined scowl, jaw set in determination. She looked angry. She looked breathtaking. Oh how he wished to take her in his arms and kiss her over and over again.
Jon willed that desire to the recesses of his mind. "You shouldn't be here. Not alone in my chambers."
The princess literally growled. Blood of the dragon. "Don't you dare tell me where I can and cannot be, Jon Snow." Whereas once it was like a vice on her heart, now his sadness and insecurity spewed forth an anger deep inside her. Dany would not let him do this - not let him think this way about himself. She would make him see the truth if it killed her. "Why have you been avoiding me, Jon?"
He fought to be emotionless, cold. "You know why. This is not proper."
Though unladylike, the noise Daenerys made clearly expressed her opinion on his statement. "Stop lying. I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen." The regal thunder in which she spoke shocked her. She never spoke in this manner to anyone, the back of Viserys' hand making acquaintance with her cheek for far less. "You will tell me the truth!" He remained silent, looking away - Dany would not stand for this. "Tell me," she said in a softer yet steeled tone, stepping closer until she was looking up into his face.
The violet eyes drew Jon in like a magnet. They were filled with steel, anger, and… pain. If he looked deep enough, he could see the pain he caused her. It tore him in two. "I'm sorry, Dany. But it was for the best."
Daenerys scoffed. "You can't possibly think that."
"I am a bastard, Dany."
"Do not speak of yourself so lowly."
"It is the truth," he exhaled with a heavy heart, only to see his hand encased by hers.
The other cupped his cheek, causing a wave of silence to descend over the room. It was as if time stood still, only the two of them remaining in the world. Moving forward, Daenerys melded her lips on hers in a sweet kiss. It was electric, warming her wonderfully while still hurting her heart that this was the most that they could do. She wanted this man more than anything, but could never have him beyond that night.
But Dany still could make sure he never thought badly of himself again - if that was all that came out of this, she'd be content. "You listen to me, Jon Snow, you are not defined by your birth. You have a noble heart, just like your father."
Though it warmed his heart to hear the woman that had enchanted him since his arrival praise him so, her statements still seemed to ring hollow. "And what does it all give me? No matter how good I become I will always be a bastard."
"You will always be the man that means so much to me."
He blinked. "Dany…"
"No. You've done so much for me, simply by being here. I know it's been short, and I know that…" she bit back the crushing, painful truth. "I will never regret meeting you, Jon. I…" She couldn't say it, it would only hurt both of them even though she knew he likely felt the same. Please don't ruin the last bit of time we have together. Let us just have this."
Opening his mouth to respond, Jon thought against it. She was right, they did have so little time together. I can't do this to her, let her suffer more. Part of him felt that he did deserve this, was a good person, if only that the amazing creature that was Daenerys Targaryen thought so. Smiling, he kissed her again, this time just as passionately as their first.
Feeling her heart burst, Dany melted into the kiss. The two of them fell sideways into the bed, soon ending up nestled together. Jon on his back, Dany cuddled up against him.
"I'm sorry, Dany. I really…"
"Shhhh." Dany enjoyed his embrace. The feeling, that of pure calm and contentment that had been so lacking in the last few days, was back - even more so. She didn't want to think about the future, about a time where she was going to have to let this man go. Daenerys had her duty, and Jon had his honor. Best not to think about it. "You should really wear more proper clothes in this weather, Jon Snow."
A snort left Jon's face. It was just such a random topic, but he appreciated it. He didn't wish to think about leaving Dany as much as she apparently did. "I like my clothes, Daenerys Stormborn. They suit me, and I can tolerate the heat and sweat."
"That's not what I have seen," Dany giggled, patting the young man's chest - such a firm chest, not as muscled as Drogo but well suited to his frame. "And I couldn't say that I wouldn't enjoy seeing you bare chested." It felt downright naughty, but Daenerys knew that Jon Snow was the only one who could get her to this undignified, flirty state. Just a feeling.
"Of course you would." He chuckled. Taking the initiative, he guided her chin up and kissed her again on the lips. Dany moaned, spurring him to deepen it. The feeling was indescribable.
Once he pulled away, the silver-haired princess remained in a haze for several moments before blinking it away. "I refuse to believe there is no girl in Winterfell waiting for you. A kiss like that must have been honed by practice." Not having been kissed before, she still knew through instinct who was a good kisser - and Jon Snow definitely was.
Jon shook his head, playing with a strand of silver hair. "You were my first kiss, my Lady." A rose blush colored his cheeks, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Melting, Dany looked at him with longing. Gods, could this man get any more attractive to me. She leaned up and pecked his lips again. "I'm glad, Jon Snow."
Leaning down, he kissed the crown of her head. "You should head back to your rooms, Dany. Prince Viserys would not take it well if he discovered you here."
Daenerys shook her head, completely shocking him with what she said next. "Make love to me, Jon." His eyes widened, the grey eyes that she loved so very much. "Please."
For several moments, nothing came out of him. "Da… Daenerys. I… we can't." Images of the Dothraki impaling him through the back came to mind. "You should go."
"No." She gripped his arm, holding tight. "The Dothraki don't care. All they want is for their women to bear them children." Pain filled her soul - Daenerys didn't want to bear the Khal's children, only Jon's. My wolf.
If this was true, Jon would be stupid not to take her up on that offer. There was nothing he would rather do more, but hesitate he did. "Dany, are you certain." In his trousers, his body betrayed him. It took all of him to resist just taking her where she stood.
"Please Jon. I don't want my first time to be like this. I want it with someone I know that cares about me. With someone I…" Daenerys closed her eyes, tears poking out from underneath the creamy lids. "With someone that I love." There, it was said. She loved Jon Snow - loved him more than anything. In less than a month he had stolen her heart… no, she had given him her heart willingly. How could she have not?
Mouth agape, knees trembling, Jon had to brace himself against the wall. She loves me. The radiant Daenerys Stormborn, Dragon Princess, loved a northern bastard. He had run from female affections all his life, convincing himself - not altogether without evidence - that no woman would ever want the Bastard of Winterfell.
I can't sire yet another bastard named Snow. But with Dany… a warmth spread through his body. Jon saw the fear and sadness from her face melt away, her eyes staring at him intently. A smile tugged on his lips. Who was he to deny the truth? "I… I love you too."
Whatever emotions Daenerys wore before melted in the brilliant grin that stretched nearly from ear to ear. The future didn't matter - all that did was that Jon was here, and he returned her feelings. He loved her, and she loved him. Crossing the small distance between them, Dany crashed their mouths together.