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He had been on Dragonstone for a moon when they agree to a marriage alliance.
It was the most obvious choice.
Not that the night they shared in her bed after the day he laid his hand on Drogon had anything to do with the agreement, it is just that Jon does not want to give up his home as much as she wants to give up hers. - and, if Daenerys is going to be honest with herself, she would not exactly mind having a man like Jon Snow in her bed every night – So they agree to marry.
He will be the king in the North and she will be the Queen in the South, any heirs they might come to have – and while Jon refuses to hear her protests, she and Tyrion share a meaningful look, they know the soon to be couple will have to choose an heir rather than have one – will have the claim to both kingdoms.
Even after this long knowing her, Jon cannot help but be at least a bit intimidated by the silver haired figure - He can barely believe that after all these years being nothing more than the bastard, he will have a highborn wife, a Targaryen wife -
Daenerys and Jon agree that they must only marry after the Night King has been dealt with, and they actually have a land to rule. That or they will both die.
--
Two moons pass. Jon goes north of the Wall, Dany rescues him and her sweet Viserion dies in the process – and if Daenerys is more than a little relieved to see him coming back on that horse, alive, she does not allow herself to dwell on what that means -
They go to Kings Landing. - On Drogon’s back she gets a glimpse of what could have been her home all along, and before her mind starts to imagine could have beens she focuses on the task ahead – Jon talks to her once again about heirs. About children. She does not let herself think too long on the matter, she cannot afford to.
Finally, they are in a boat on their way to White Harbor.
--
They lay together every night, in her quarters mostly. Besides the sex – They will either die or get married anyway, so why not enjoy? – Both talk, but only about trivial things: their favorite color, food, what is the ideal weather… The door to deeper conversations remains open, but never crossed during the fortnight they remain on sea.
“Why is your favorite color Black?”
“Why do you like lemons so much?”
It starts slowly.
One night Dany softly and hesitantly asks him about his siblings. Jon tells her. About going hunting in the woods with Robb, and the few times they managed to sneak Arya with them. About trying to teach Bran and little Rickon how to properly shoot an arrow while Arya would excel at it – she was a natural - and the look he could feel on his back because of Sansa staring. He told her how he came to understand his sister, after she sought his help to retake their home.
He is midway telling her how little Arya once stole half an orange cake with the intent of eating it all on her sister’s bed to make a mess and blame Sansa when he hears Daenerys barely whisper mindlessly “Maybe that’s the type of story I would have to tell with Rhaegar.” He tries to ask for more, “What about Viserys? You know you can tell me”, but she remains silent, a distant look on her once curious eyes. – Dany dreams Rhaegar would have been that sort of brother, the one she now realizes Jon is - Instead of talking she makes love to him. After, they lay together, keeping each other a silent company.
They keep meeting once on land.
It is an accident on their second night on land. They were fucking, - because that is what it was. Fucking. – She was sitting backwards in his lap, his face in the back of her neck, both already trembling and moaning from the pleasure, his hands both on her hips when he suddenly shifted her. In an instant she was on all four - the position familiar in a painful way, and she could not really see his face. Whose face? Shit, shit, shit. – “stop”. Was the only coherent thought she manages to get out in a shaky voice. Feeling her tense, he stops immediately. He waits, confused, as it takes maybe more than a minute for her – a woman he became so used as seeing being incredibly strong – to get her control back and be able to breathe properly.
That night she tells him about Drogo. The entire story, even their son’s death. That night they don’t have sex again, and they sleep in each other’s arms.
In the sixth night he tells her about his worries. How it was being a bastard child, never having a mother and the looks and comments, especially from Lady Catelyn.
Daenerys tells him the little she knows about her own mother on the seventh.
By the time they only had four days more of the journey before arriving in Winterfell they were bed warmers for each other – but especially for Dany, she didn’t exactly agree with the cold – cuddling in a ridiculous affection show.
When Jon finally gets the courage to ask “Why do you always want to hear stories about my siblings if it makes you so miserable?” she finally tells him about her childhood and Viserys.
The brief memory of happiness in the house with the red door and the lemon tree. Growing up on the run, Robert’s assassins always after them, sometimes not knowing where the next meal would come from, or if it would come. The times when the siblings would find refugee in some rich merchant’s house, how they would look at the children as their new toy, just to get tired of it a few moons later. She recounts how she and Viserys had to sell everything they had just to eat, how even though there were days in which little Dany thought she would starve to death she refused to trade her mother’s ring, the only physical bond she had with her mom. How Viserys grew more and more violent as the tough years went by.
And, even if just for one night, Daenerys allows herself to be that little girl again, vulnerable.
--
They arrive in Winterfell together.
Daenerys can feel Sansa’s stare even after Jon has told her that he didn’t bend the knee – and she wonders if that’s a part of sibling love she never knew of – Bran is kind of weird in her perception. Arya’s nowhere in sight.
--
Between the new – and sometimes even hostile – northern environment, the excessive political meetings, war planning and not being able to see Jon so much Daenerys was quite nervous. She gave credit to that for her sickness and lack of appetite. It hadn’t been the first time something like that happened, she quite often wasn’t able to eat properly when under stress.
Jon introduced her to Ghost. Daenerys could feel Arya’s stare as the giant direwolf sniffed her; the young woman was trying to figure her out just as much as the animal. As soon as Ghost licked her palm Arya diverted her alert gaze, turned around and went about with her day.
--
They had been in Winterfell for nearly a moon when Missandei gently points out that Daenerys has been gaining weight.
The Targaryen was not able to hide her laughter, her hand softly petting Ghost’s head. If Jon did not have the time to join her, his direwolf seemed to always find himself by her side.
“Honestly Missandei, by this point you really should not be remotely embarrassed to point that out. You know we are friends.”
For a moment her expression was pure confusion, but then realization crosses Missandei’s features.
“Your Grace, I appreciate the thought but that is not what I meant. You have been eating less than you used to, but still your dresses have been a tight fit.” She gets closer to Dany, a hand resting gently on her shoulder “When was the last time you bled?”
Daenerys freezes, her gaze crossing with Missandei’s in the mirror. Her hearth feeling like it was sinking with the dread that took over. – Fuck. No no no no no.
Was she not happy? Well, there were so many ways this could go wrong. So many ways it had already gone wrong. - She could feel a slight panic, horror at the realization, and just as the thought of keeping this to herself was clearly forming in her head her friend stopped her.
“No. You have to tell him.”
--
She was in his quarters. Her hands together at her back, her spine as straight as possible – Jon could not find it weirder, her posture was the same as when he first arrived at Dragonstone. Formal. It used to give her a figure of strength, but the fear in her eyes he knew by now betrayed her –
“Your Grace, a matter has come to my attention by Missandei” The formal babbling kept going until Jon could not take it anymore – why was she looking at anywhere but him? – He stood up at took her face gently in his hands.
“Dany, what is going on?”
Her eyes were so close to his, it scared him that all he could see once her strong façade came down was panic.
He could barely hear her whisper “I’m pregnant.”
Suddenly a smile took his face, he was mumbling words of happiness, and looked utterly excited – his child, it was his, and he or she would never know anything but love, and affection, a warm bed and –
“No Jon. You cannot celebrate.” She starts listing all the reasons why they cannot count any of this as a given. The Night King. Rhaeggo. - She knows she’s in denial but why he cannot understand that happiness is not theirs? It surely never is hers for long. –
He was holding Dany when he felt her going stiff in his arms. Her head was turning “Please do not tell anyone yet. Please” - images of what she was not quite conscious to live last time filled her mind. Blood, pain, birth. She cannot cry. Have to be strong. Have to be strong. Somehow she was preparing herself for what she knew would come. –
“I know this is not what we agreed upon, but we should get married before this all goes to hell.” He whispers in her ear.
“Okay” is the only word she can whisper before completely losing control.
She sobs in his arms.
--
The next night Sam and Bran call Jon, Dany, Arya and Sansa to the crypts.
He says it is a family matter.
Daenerys hopes Bran does not know about the child yet – she has a feeling he knows some things he was not supposed to – but she cannot possibly imagine what brought them here.
Arya looks wary.
Sansa Keeps looking at her as to ask what is she doing here? Dany knew that under the young woman’s gaze she was an intruder.
Sam and Bran tell and elaborate a story, she listens all of it, she really does, but the part that hits her the most is “Your real name is Aegon Targaryen.”
Daenerys’ head goes completely blank as she stares straight ahead. Jon is confused, not knowing where to look at.
The same thought cross their minds, the first to form after the influx of information. Protests coming from Sansa and the faint “It does not change anything, Jon” from Arya can be heard, but the couple turn their heads towards each other, their gaze finally meeting. Maybe it is Daenerys who moves first, maybe it is Jon. Suddenly they are in each other’s arms, holding as tight as possible.
“Blood of my blood” she whispers in his ear. His strong arms holding her tightly against him, her hands with strands of his hair.
Both can barely start to comprehend what this all means, - she finally has a family after all this time. He has the woman he loves in his arms – however, as the sense of greatness dawns over them, something inside finally settles down just right.
Sansa and Arya see the trail of tears in the Dragon Queen’s face. For the first time they see Dany.