Fire and Blood

Unable to sleep on the eve of Jon Snow's departure, Daenerys retreats to the Painted Table Chamber to lament the dire risks and stupidity of Tyrion's wight hunt plan. The object of her thoughts and reluctant affection is also struggling to find rest, and he isn't about to leave without settling something.

The ocean breeze coated her skin in a light mist of salt and brine. It was late, the hour of the wolf, and she found herself leaning against the stone arch of the painted table chamber, scowling at the frothing sea as she thought of dawn breaking. Tyrion's latest 'clever' plan would play out for better or worse. She would be stuck there, unable to help if things went awry, while the foolish King of the North risked life and limb to prove the monsters he spoke of were indeed the threat he claimed they were. She huffed, staring blindly at the cloud-veiled sky as her breath fogged the air, and she repressed a shiver as a chill wind lifted her loose hair and snaked around her neck like ice-tipped fingers.

She shifted on her feet, backing up a little, and sensed her children in the skies above, keeping watch while those sheltering in Dragonstone slept. She'd been chased from her own great bed of state by insidious dreams, demons of snow and ice, red fire and blue, a wolf crashing through ice and never resurfacing. Her heart still raced as she tried to grasp hold of anything she saw. It was slipping away like she was trying to catch smoke in her hands; the harder she tried to remember, the faster it seemed to vanish.

Her entire body was leaden, slippered feet rooted to the damp stone, a queer tightness in her chest, and a slow sinking sensation in her belly as she weighed the advantages and disadvantages of this fool's errand. She knew a truce was necessary, but her soul revolted at the idea of turning her back on everything she wanted to fight in Jon Snow's war and her irritation with him for choosing to indulge Tyrion's latest cockamamie idea.

Tears had lined her eyes during that meeting. Her throat tightened to the point of pain as she bit out the words she hoped would stop him from leaving. His open defiance and obstinate refusal to let anyone else go in his place, the weight of those dark eyes latched on hers, was a lesson in restraint as the attraction she felt for him bloomed brighter and burned hotter when he didn't back down from her.

Part of her believed him without seeing for herself. Part of her saw that he never wavered, no matter how much ridicule and her attempts to sway him to her side had all failed; even her snark in the cave hadn't bothered him. It was all very frustrating for a woman used to getting what she wanted. Still, the North's broody King was as impenetrable as that great wall of ice where he used to reside. Why didn't she want him to go? She wouldn't allow herself to answer that question.

Not even as Tyrion and Ser Davos eyed her knowingly after Jon shot down her attempt to make him stay would she admit that the annoyance and rage she felt for Jon Snow had transformed into something else entirely. During the day, he prowled between the dragon glass cave and the Keep, spending most of his time helping mine the glass they were sending North.

Every time he joined them for dinner, she tried to draw him out, using all her best tricks to make him open up and give her something to obsess over later, but it was like drawing blood from a stone. Her annoyance was a physical thing by the time she would excuse herself and return to her chamber. She was embarrassed and confused as she paced a trail in the fur rug by the roaring fire and cursed his name bitterly.

He was under her skin in a way she couldn't recall happening before. She wasn't sure how to handle it as she gazed out at sea and failed to devise an alternative idea to put this farce to bed. She was frozen to the bone, her heavy bedrobe not enough to ward off the cold night as she put her back on the dramatic scene and took a single step toward the door just as it slowly inched open.

Her heart stuck somewhere in her throat, beating wildly as she cursed herself for sending her Unsullied guards away and held her breath, hoping Missandei hadn't been able to find sleep and had come looking for her. Since reaching this strange land, her luck had been oddly off-kilter, and it failed her yet again as Jon Snow stepped inside the chamber and closed the door behind him.

A fine tremor ran through her hands as she clasped them together and observed him. He wore less than usual, his faithful cloak nowhere to be found, and she was glad of it as she drank him in, admiring the hard lines of his lithe body. His black eyes darted around the room and skirted past her before jerking straight to her again.

Any chance she could sneak out without him noticing faded away. She had no other choice but to steel her spine and act like the Queen she was supposed to be as he cocked his head and appraised her from the toes of her slippered feet to the crown of her unbound hair.

"You look different, younger," He said, voice low and tongue rusty as she resisted the urge to paw at her hair and robe, her usual Targaryen mask nowhere to be found, and she felt naked without it.

"It's impossible to sleep with a head full of braids, not that taking them down helped tonight," She offered, choosing honesty as he did not seem to play the game of silver-tongued promises and double meanings behind every word.

His hair was still tied back in a tight knot at the back of his head, and her fingers itched to undo it, feel the silken strands flow through her hands like cool water, and see if it was as soft as it looked. He silently watched her for too long.

Her feet shifted too loudly on the stone as she wondered if she could walk by him and return to her chamber before he poked at her temper again, and she accidentally revealed something she wasn't ready to examine. Her clammy hands gripped each other tightly as he finally broke the tension swirling like mist in the room.

"Seems sleep was impossible for both of us."

She nodded, breaking eye contact and near sagging in relief when she did, inwardly chastising herself for showing any weakness as she hunted for something to say that wouldn't send him running or anger him. Her petty side couldn't resist tossing out her true feelings.

"Perhaps you're at last realizing the ridiculousness of this plan and are too stubborn to admit it." Her voice was caustic, but Jon didn't back down.

He went rigid. Something hot sparked in the midnight depths of his eyes and caught, burning slow as he fired back, "If I am to convince you and Cersei that this threat is real, I have to go, Your Grace."

"You'll find it tremendously difficult to convince anyone of such things if you die while attempting to capture one of these – wights – I believe you called them." She spat, bristling at his condescension and not thinking, cheeks heating as he rounded the table and approached her.

He stood an arm's length away from her, idly fiddling with one of the dragon sigils left on the table. She fought the urge to put more distance between them as his mouth twitched, and he speared her with a no-nonsense look.

"I know the risks, Daenerys."

She swallowed hard at his use of her name the first time she heard it from his mouth, and she found she liked the way his tongue rolled it around a little too much, given the heat flashing over her skin as he eyed her.

"Then you are a damned fool, Jon Snow," She shook her head, pulse jumping in her neck before going on, "I'll see you once you return... if there's anything left of you," She sniffed, lifting her chin and striding forward, intending to storm out once she made it past him. His hand shot out to grip her upper arm as she sidled around him, bringing her to a halt.

Shaking her arm, trying to escape with her dignity intact, she almost growled when he only held her harder and forced her to meet his dark eye.

"Is there another reason you don't want me to go? Or are you worried my people will blame you if anythin' happens?" He muttered, eyes blazing through hers as she bit back insults and callous words, knowing it would only dig her deeper into the mire she found herself in.

There was a challenge in his eyes; he'd given her an out, and she wanted to take it, run back to her bed, and wait for the morning light to banish the specters of the night. She was tired of fighting within herself, and the feel of his warm hand around her arm, fingers probably leaving bruises as her skin pebbled, and it wasn't because of the chill.

Her heart galloped in her chest as her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Jon's gaze never left her face as she sighed and stopped looking for an excuse that would reveal too little. Time slowed to a crawl as they stared each other down, the wind and crash of the sea the only other sounds competing with her furious heartbeat that she was confident he could hear.

"It doesn't matter. You'll go no matter what I say," she admitted, giving her arm one last useless tug before surrendering to it and waiting him out.

He inched ever closer, head lowering and nearing her, voice nothing but a whisper as he replied, "True, but tell me anyway."

Everything in her screamed to run, blood roaring in her ears as she bravely held eye contact despite the smirk tugging at the corners of his plush mouth and the shake in her hands. His eyes glinted in the ribbons of pale moonlight streaming through the open arches behind them, and she suddenly wanted to scratch her nails through his beard, feel it scraping her skin as he kissed her. It had been so long since a kiss affected her so strongly, her mouth-watering despite her haughty attitude, and he didn't miss a second of her internal battle. It riled her. Her snappy retort instantly filled her with regret as ire flashed in his gaze.

"I don't think I will. It's useless when you're determined to play the stupid hero when you could send anyone else in your place."

A thrill of anticipation fluttered through her as his jaw hardened and his hand flexed. He cursed, "infuriating woman," she was soon pressed against the wall, his mouth on hers before her mind could catch up.

The cold wall seeped through her skimpy attire, her loosely tied robe slipping off her shoulders to pool at her elbows as he kissed her hungrily. It was clumsy, a clash of teeth and tongue when she let him in that soon turned into a kiss so consuming that it burned. She blindly felt at his hair, tugging it out of its leather band, and marvelling that it was just as soft as she hoped as her fingers threaded through his loose curls, dragging him nearer in.

The scrape of his beard, the nervy brush of his tongue as she clung to his jerkin, and heat pooled thick and fast between her thighs. She moaned into it, giving herself away, and the seal on her mouth was broken. He pulled back, panting as something like panic crossed his eyes, and she knew he'd leave and never return if he thought any part of her didn't want this, no longer caring he now knew precisely how she felt for him.

Pushing up her toes, she looped her arms around his neck and nipped at his bottom lip, rubbing herself against his chest until he took the hint. Whatever had kept him away from her vanished as he retook control, and all she knew was heat. It built rapidly, sweat prickling over her skin as he shoved a knee between her thighs and again pinned her against the wall. Her flimsy night slip offered no protection as her hips instinctively ground down into his thigh. It was the only thing holding her up as he plundered her mouth and stole her wits right out of her.

It had been so long since she'd been kissed like this. Like the world could end right outside, and he still wouldn't stop. Her knees were water as her hands pulled his hair, and she ground down on his muscled thigh. She wasn't entirely aware of them moving until she was picked up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he began carrying them away from the wall.

Her breath was his, she whimpered as he bit her lips, and wetness soaked her small clothes as she arched in a slow slide along the hardness trapped inside his breeches and smiled when he shuddered. In all her wildest dreams, kissing him had never felt this good.

She was lost in it. Too many clothes irritated her as her greedy fingers sought bare skin and could find none. She found herself on her back like she blinked and missed him moving, spread out on the carved table like his own personal feast, her thighs automatically spread at his murmured "open wide for me" as he stood between them.

He dragged her to the edge, legs dangling over it as he took a seat and spread her thighs farther apart, looking up at her to see if she was still on board. She was already gasping for air as she nodded, her heart skipping over itself as she dropped her head to the table, thrashing it and ignoring the thump it made on the wood.

She trembled under the weight of his singular eyes, licking at her dry lips as her gaze bounced sightlessly across the ceiling. She jumped when she felt his hands land on her thighs, fingers digging in, trailing open-mouthed kisses from her knee up to where she ached for him, but he didn't go there yet. He teased her, moving to follow the same path on her other leg, and she whimpered, hands fisting at her side. He was hovering over her, and she felt him huff a hot breath that only added to the fire she felt down there.

Her eyes went wide as he ran his nose up the seam of her, breathing her in, and groaning so roughly she wanted to clamp her legs together to counter the hollow ache. Then her small clothes were gone, ripped off her body so quickly she couldn't be entirely sure he hadn't magicked them away.

All the blood in her body went to her cunt, and the need for friction became a sublime agony. Though she wished she could draw it out and savor it, she knew she wouldn't last much longer. The anticipation alone was enough to have her on the precipice. She sat up on her elbows, her thick robe giving her some cushion against the solid ridges of the table, and watched through dazed eyes as he finally dipped his tongue in her folds, thumbs spreading her wide, and he was relentless. Her desperate hands landed in his hair, tugging him closer, trying to get him inside, and he took the bait. She moaned as he slid his tongue inside her, humming low in his throat as she flailed. He replaced his tongue with two long fingers, curling them and hitting that spot that sent her wild.

Her thighs were shaking so hard she worried the table would start rattling under her, but then his mouth closed around her clit. His teeth grazed the bundle of nerves lightly before he sucked her into his mouth and crooked his fingers again. She collapsed onto the table, sobbing his name like a prayer as her orgasm crashed over her, her cunt clamping down on his hand like a vice, keeping him there as it swallowed her whole.

She was somewhat aware of him touching himself as she felt as if she were outside of her body. Blind, her mind scattered like ash in the wind, stars wheeled across her vision as she floated back into her body and managed to look at Jon, her chest heaving.

"Where did you learn that?" She breathed in an astonished tone, twitching when he smirked.

"Should I stop? " He rasped, and she shook her head vehemently before he went on, "I'll tell you later."

He rose to his feet, and though she wanted to question him, she let it go as she watched him palming his cock, and her cunt clenched around nothing at the alluring sight. The table put her at the perfect height as he sank inside her in one vicious movement. She screamed in shock and violent pleasure. Unable to stop the wanton moans leaking from her mouth along with the essence dripping from her cunt.

Gratitude glimmered through her as he didn't hold back, and her back scraped along the table with every harsh thrust. Her stomach tensed and relaxed with every snap of his hips, cock grinding so deep she couldn't breathe. Inner walls still fluttering in time with her thudding heart. A deep groan when he pulled out almost entirely before sliding back in, and the force of it shoved her up the table and caused her head to loll uselessly as her eyes rolled. She tightened her legs around him, moving her hips clumsily with his, her hands clawing at the table, and his eyes never left hers as he moved within her tight clasp.

Jon moaned her name, the sound like honey down the back of her throat, and she bared her neck, making it abundantly clear what she wanted, and he obliged. His thrusts stopped as his head dipped, and she leaned up. His mouth settled over her skittering pulse, and he sank his teeth into the sensitive skin. She bucked wildly, the feel of his hard cock locked in her cunt driving her to distraction as she canted her hips and frantically sought the friction he wasn't giving her.

She was greedy and selfish and needed more and more and more. She felt herself start to tighten around him when he straightened. She was so aroused now he would have no problem fucking her hard, the acute nudge of his cock deep inside her and the pain in her neck making her writhe and beg and plead.

She whimpered as he kissed her harshly, and then he was gone again, moving within her, pace fast and punishing. Clenching her teeth against the force of him using her body hard, she knew there would be fresh bruises on her back tomorrow. Her eyelids fluttered shut as his fingers skipped over her clit, the touch so faint she wanted to sob at being denied her orgasm as it turned the edges of her vision red. Then he took his thumb and forefinger and lightly pinched the bundle of nerves. She was crazed, her head flung back, mouth open in a silent scream as she rocked into his thrust, his whispered praise egging her on. Her hands mapped her chest, fingers toying with her nipples and sending sharp bolts of pleasure straight to her saturated cunt.

The pressure released just as she was about to fall, and she snarled, teeth snapping as he chuckled darkly, licking his fingers erotically, her inner walls clenching around his length at the arresting sight before he touched her again. His fingers circled her clit with purpose, and his head tilted to the side as he listened to the racket she was making. Heat swamped her inside and out as she clenched her inner muscles in a desperate attempt to make him move, smirking when he cursed her name. She wanted to laugh as he let her win and slammed into her, the lurid slap of flesh on flesh obscene.

His grunts and groans mixed with her mewling and moaning, both lost in their insatiable hunger. Flickering flame consumed her, his cock and fingers a delicious agony. And then she was there, the abyss swallowing her whole as he pinched her clit between his fingers again, and she crested that peak. Release came fast and furious, making her weightless as she sobbed and wailed, her broken call of his name helping him to reach his own release. He pounded into her, growling deep in his chest as she felt him twitch inside her, and he said her name in an awed whisper as his body quaked, and he held her captive under him until he was utterly spent.

~*~

The aftermath was as awkward as she expected as she frantically tugged her robe on and held it shut with her hand, muttering under her breath at her impulsivity. Her mind yelled at her as she fretted, already waiting for the sound of the door slamming to tell her he'd left and she was alone again. She tried to drown out that whispering voice telling her she would never be the same, lying to herself and attempting to shove it away.

Telling herself it meant nothing, it was just fucking, and they might never look each other in the eye but could be civil. They would have to be given what he claimed was coming for them. Her woman's heart bled and fractured as the thoughts ran through her head, screaming and battering against her ribs to tell her she was nothing but a liar. It meant everything. She didn't hear him approaching until he spoke, making her jump and whirl to face him.

"I need you to know that this means something to me, Daenerys."

She straightened, eyes searching his face and finding nothing but resolute acceptance for whatever response she would give him. Half of her wanted to laugh, wave off his declaration as nothing more than afterglow and the late hour, but the other half agreed and wanted to see how far their attraction would stretch.

Would they fizzle out after a few fumbles? Or would she find herself loved and loving in return? She didn't know, and the uncertainty made her want to run, but she stayed rooted to the floor and decided to offer him a chance to extend their time together. If all went terribly beyond the wall, she would regret not taking the opportunity to have him again.

Taking a deep breath, Daenerys smiled softly and met his burning gaze, "There are no guards outside my bedchamber. Let's retire there, and we can discuss what happens next."