Chapter 12: A Dragon's Love

Neither could tell how much time had passed, so lost were the two young lovers in their kiss. Hardened beyond their twenty-three shared years upon the earth - but freed from the shackles of their duty by the other's embrace. Passion filled them, not of the sensual kind. Such would come later, so starved were they for their long lost beloved, but the loving touches and dueling tongues reforged an intimacy foolishly broken. Reacquainting themselves with their love once more.

Daenerys couldn't get enough of Jon. His spicy scent, the sharp ripple of his strong neck and shoulder muscles, the soft but calloused hands of a hardened warrior that ghosted over her breeches and cloak. Gods… he is perfect. Hungry for his kisses, she yanked his head with her fingers. Pulling Jon's mouth tighter against hers.

A sharp bark broke them apart. Putting a foot of distance between them when a persistent and excited ball of fur bounded to Dany. Snout nudging against her side and tongue lolling with joy at the lithe Valyrian beauty finally returning and bringing joy back to his father.

"Ghost!" Jon exclaimed, laughing. Crossing his arms as the direwolf's forceful affection sent Dany to her knees, unable to keep herself up. "Be gentle with her, boy."

Delighted giggles left Dany's lips, the massive direwolf's tongue licking all over her hands and face. "Ghost… stop it… I'm happy to see you too." Ghost, yipping, shifted down to nuzzle her midsection. The fearsome beast that put fear into the hearts of many a warrior nothing more than an overgrown puppy gently brushing his snout over the amazing scent within the stomach of the woman he had accepted as his mother. Daenerys herself began ruffling and scratching his white fur, only coaxing more happy yips from him. "You're the same softie as you were at Winterfell," she giggled.

Jon couldn't help but laugh harder. "He always liked your scratches the most, the traitor." By now Ghost was on his back, panting as Dany tickled his belly. It made for a rather strange scene - tiny Valyrian beauty taming the mighty direwolf. But Jon had turned Rhaegal into the same happy mess by scratching the scales of his jaw so he'd seen stranger. "Alright boy, enough. Let Dany and I have some alone time."

Rolling back on his legs, Ghost barked once more before bounding out, far more energy in him than he had in awhile. Composing herself through her giggles, Dany wrapped her hands around his waist. "Oh Jon, must've you sent him away. I missed the little furball."

Ghost was very picky with people. He hated Slynt, Rast, and especially Tanner, while taking to Maester Aemon and Davos quite well. Dany, he seemed to love the most of all, the loyal direwolf sticking closer to her than even Missandei in the days before the Long Night. "I don't doubt that, but I'd think you'd miss me the most."

She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his comforting heartbeat. "Mmmm, I did, ñuha jorrāelagon." Nuzzling the hard planes - Jon was certainly the prime specimen of a man in her eyes - Daenerys felt all her worries leaving her. "So Davos is the new Hand?"

Jon chuckled, rubbing circles on her back. "Aye. Tyrion's fucked up too much to leave him in charge. Honestly, everything he suggests has ended horribly." He kissed her head. "I wish I had been there on Dragonstone earlier to talk you out of that ridiculous Casterly Rock idea."

"Your military mind would have been greatly appreciated, my Jon." That's who he is, my Jon. Mmmmm, mine. All mine. Dragons were possessive over their mates, and Dany was no exception, holding him tighter. "And the others?"

"Varys is still here, though I'm not sure who's side he's on."

"I promised him something." Her voice turned to steel. "If he betrayed me - now us - I'd burn him alive. Should I do that?"

He thought for a moment. "Not yet. I'm still not sure." Jon couldn't tell her what he had planned. "Sansa is here as well." A wince hit him as Dany stiffened. "I talked to her, set her straight. She won't be coming between us."

"Good, cause I'd burn her alive as well. It's her fault we're in this mess, I know it."

I told her who I was. But the past was the past. "If we look back, we are lost."

Sighing, she kissed his chest. "You do listen."

"You say the wisest things sometimes, my dragon." Gods, he loved her. "And you didn't tell me how smart Missandei is. She's been indispensable along with Davos."

The fact Jon had grown close to Missandei warmed Dany's heart. "Looks like we have a proper inner circle there, my love." Something the Dothraki patrol had told her earlier came to Dany's mind, peering into Jon's eyes. "Jon… was there a battle earlier? Did you fight?" She wanted his honest answer, and hoped he didn't downplay it for her sanity.

"Aye, there was." He gently took her hand and pressed it to his heart - silently calming her with his having lived. Even after so long apart, Jon knew her so well. "Flanked around the Golden Company with my northerners, the Dornish, the Dothraki, and Unsullied. Tried to break through Grey Worm's line with their elephants…"

Her veins went ice cold. "Please tell me Grey Worm…" After Ser Jorah, Dany didn't think she could take another loss.

A sweet kiss silenced her. "He survived." Jon smiled as relief spread on Dany's face. "Rhaegal and I swept in and turned the tide."

This time Dany looked at him with surprise. "You… you rode Rhaegal into battle?" My child was there at the Gate of the Gods, but I didn't see Jon ride him.

Jon blushed, sheepish at the stare from the Mother of Dragons. "He and I… we've gotten quite close." Blinking, he came to face with a massive smile. "Once the men saw us emerge from a cloud of wildfire unfazed, ours couldn't be stopped and theirs couldn't surrender fast enough."

Dany's smile only grew, a pleasant warmth filling her. "Unburnt…" He truly was a Targaryen. A Dragon, just like her. Drifting away from his hold, feeling as if on a cloud, Daenerys drifted to the hanging armor on the stand - running her hand over the three-headed dragon seal emblazoned upon it. "You've accepted it… Aegon."

Even though Jon embraced his Targaryen name, it still felt… alien to him. But the way Daenerys said it, with her flowing, sultry accent, it set him alight. He wouldn't mind hearing it from her again. "It is my name. My house." Jon shrugged. "No longer am I a bastard."

Though he could ride a dragon, bring fire and blood upon his enemies both in battle and upon the throne, alone among the one person he could truly let all walls and armor down around he did find the traumas of his life to bubble to the surface. Daenerys rushed to him. Crashing their lips together. Willing away his feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing with her passion and love. Loving how he relaxed in her arms. Letting the tension leaving him.

She pulled back. "Jon, my love. You were never a bastard, never to me." Even when he infuriated her, refusing to bend the knee before her at Dragonstone, Dany had never seen him as a bastard. A stubborn, rebellious and dismissive King - as much a dragon as a wolf - but never as someone who's birth rendered them unworthy. "Be your name Snow or Targaryen, you were always my King." His eyes softened, sparkling. Gods, she knew he loved her as passionately as she did him. "You and I, we were always meant to rule beside each other. To unite the realm out of love, not fear, and finally defeat the Army of the Dead and Cersei Lannister."

The gentle, caring Jon that Daenerys had fallen head over heels for disappeared at her words. Morphing into something that she had never seen before. Fists clenching. Skin searing. Grey Eyes morphing into a dark ring of violet, burning furiously in a way that made her gasp. "Cersei," he hissed, as if the name were the vilest curse. "She. Will. Burn." His tone left no room for argument. "I will have Rhaegal burn her to a crisp for what she did to us. For how she hurt Rhaegal, hurt Drogon. Killed Viserion… our children."

A pulsing hit her core at how he was speaking. At what he spoke. The anger. The fury. Referring to her dragons as 'ours,' belonging to them both. His violet eyes… This must have been what the dragonlords of old were like. Gods, Daenerys hadn't wanted him this badly since their first night on the boat - and she had an insatiable need for him.

But his next words put her close to tears. "She nearly took everything from me." The anger was gone from him, replaced with sorrow. "Took away the moment I had been dreaming of since falling for you, Dany."

Their children - she knew what he meant. A beautiful moment, proving her womb to be barren no more. Torn away by the vile machinations of Cersei Lannister, a woman closer to the Mad King Aerys than Daenerys would ever be… Reaching up to cup the face of her love, Dany knew what she had to do. "Jon… vēzos qēlossās ñuho."

Jon didn't understand the Valyrian words, but knew them to be words of the deepest affection. I must ask Missandei to teach me. As she swiped at the tears falling down his cheek, he smiled softly. "Yes, Dany?"

Saying my name like that - so full of love... It made her weak at the knees. "Remember what you told me on the boat? While we were wrapped in each others arms?"

"That was pretty much what we did on the entire voyage, my dragon," he chuckled quietly. "You'll have to be more specific."

Daenerys' smile grew wider. "A sentiment you repeated on our last night together. About the witch."

Brows furrowing, confusion covered his face. "What? How does…?" And suddenly Jon's eyes widened. Understanding replacing the confusion - realizing what she was trying to do. Realization turning into pure, unrestrained love. "I believe I said 'The cunt was lying.'" He laughed.

She laughed as well, looping her arms around his neck. "Jon… my love… you were right." Tears slipped from her lids in spite of herself, but they were happy ones. "You always said that I make the impossible happen, and the same is true for you. Well… we did." Gently taking his arm in her hand, she guided his to her still flat stomach. Felt Jon resting his warm palm over the ever so slight swell that contained their children.

Jon couldn't believe it… couldn't believe how he had gotten the perfect woman to fall for him. But here she was, gifting them their moment. The one Cersei Lannister tried to steal from them. All his dreams of the last few months led to this, and he was going to enjoy his chance to reclaim what they had lost. "Daenerys…" His voice was hoarse with emotion. "Are you…?"

Her smile grew impossibly wide. "I believed an unreliable source of information." What he had said in the Dragonpit, Daenerys knew that it had been the time she truly fell hopelessly in love with Jon Snow… Aegon Targaryen, it turned out. Blood of my blood. "You and I will be the parents of two little dragons."

And this floored him. Put actual shock in his expression, making him tremble. "Two… two babes?" Jon's other hand drifted down, both pressing reverently on her stomach. While it was supposed to be a reclamation of what they had lost, there was something Cersei had been unable to steal from them. "How is that possible?"

"I do believe that even a brother of the Night's Watch knows how babes are made, Jon Snow," Daenerys giggled.

"But… how do you know?"

Leaning forward to kiss him softly, Daenerys locked her gaze into his eyes - now a gentle grey with rings of violet. Love comes in at the eyes. "Dragons are magical creatures, as are direwolves. Try to feel our little darlings, my dragonwolf. Please?"

Closing his eyes, letting his mind concentrate as he cupped her abdomen, Daenerys waited with baited breath. Hoping that her beloved could feel the sheer wonder she did. The joy that they were the last dragons no more. And when it came, the soft sob, the joyous tears, the quiver in his lip, she knew he felt it too. "Dany… we're having twins."

"We are." Leaning up on her toes, she kissed him deeply. Yelping in his mouth as Jon picked her up. Twirling her around with a smile of unadulterated happiness. Never had they been so happy till that moment. Dany felt as if she were on a cloud when he put her down. "Jon…" She suddenly remembered. "Your question from before, I never did answer it." She inhaled deeply, trembling. "My answer is yes."

Beaming smile taking a hold of him, Jon grabbed her waist. Searching to make sure she spoke true. "Yes?"

Daenerys prayed she would see that smile of his every day for eternity. "Yes, I will marry you, Aegon Targaryen." Nothing could stop her happiness - at long last, Daenerys Targaryen found her home. Not a place, but him. Her dragonwolf. Someone who respected and treasured both the great queen she was and the loving soul beneath it. Gods, I'm so lucky. "I… I love you, my King."

Jon pressed another kiss to her lips. "And I adore you, my Queen. My dragon. My bride." He made her melt. The unburnt, literally melting. "And now let's go to bed, Dany." His eyes darkened once more, this time with lust rather than rage.

Her insides burned again for him, but… "Jon… I think we should go to the council meeting."

"Fuck them," he growled, half-wolf and half-dragon. It made her wet. "You're mine, Daenerys Targaryen."

She rubbed her legs together to ease the ache between them. "You will have me tonight. As much as you want… but I want our friends and… foes to know that I am back. And that you and I will never ever be apart again." Her determination was mirrored with his.

As Hand of the King, Davos did a headcount - Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion, Tormund, Varys, Howland Reed, and Sansa along with himself. All the senior leadership present, and no sign of the King. "Alright, perhaps we should start…"

The tent flap swished open and in walked the King, looking relaxed with a rare smile on his face. Any confusion as to the complete turnaround in his mood was dispelled at the sight of the shorter figure walking in behind him. Silver hair sparkling in the firelight from the braziers. "Your Graces," all chorused, quickly sinking to their knees. Jon had told them before to ignore such formalities before, so it was their own way to herald the arrival of the Queen.

Daenerys smiled at all of them, taking Jon's hand in hers. A silent display for all as to the status of their relationship. "Rise."

No sooner than she had said that was Missandei embracing her. Dropping the formalities out of friendship and happiness. "I'm so glad you're alright, your Grace."

"As I am for you, dearest Missandei," Dany replied with genuine emotion. Breaking apart, she was greeted by Ser Davos. "I hear that you are my new Hand, my Lord."

Davos merely bowed. "I hope to be of proper service to you, your Grace."

"If Jon trusts you, then I shall as well." A beaming smile was directed to her betrothed. "He hasn't led me wrong yet."

The Onion Knight noticed this, hiding his own smile. Young love. "Your Grace. This is Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch and one of His Grace's main allies in divulging his identity."

Dany raised an eyebrow. "You knew?"

Howland nodded. "I was with Ned Stark when we found the Lady Lyanna in the tower of Joy. I swore to him to keep the secret and protect House Targaryen's newest Prince. I am honored to extend such an oath to his bride as well."

"Your loyalty is quite welcome, my Lord…"

"Well fuck me blind and call me Mance Rayder!" Tormund slapped Dany's back, nearly staggering her. "Yer' a sight for sore eyes, Queen Crow!"

"I'm glad to see you as well, Tormund," Daenerys chuckled, recovering her bearings. "Queen Crow?" she whispered in Jon's ear as they moved to their positions around the map table.

Jon shrugged. "He calls me King Crow. I think Tormund has given his vote in favor of our marriage." He felt Dany press a kiss to his jaw in response.

Further greetings were exchanged, tension palpable between the Queen and the remaining advisors - Varys was cordial, Tyrion was apologetic, and Sansa was… quite frosty. Daenerys wasn't keen on letting any of them in the tent with the more… effective advisors, but if Jon wanted them then she would trust him. "Alright, what is the situation we find ourselves in?" Out of the gate, taking control of the discussion. A true Queen.

"Our victory was complete," Jon answered before anyone else could, moving the pieces around the map personally. "Twelve thousand Westermen kneeling, fifteen thousand sellswords captured. Remainder are dead or scattered, our Dothraki patrols hunting them down."

"We estimate the only troops Cersei has are the City Watch and a couple thousand rear echelon forces too green for battle," Tyrion commented. "Along with enough to man the static anti-dragon defenses."

Daenerys pursed her lips. "And the Iron Fleet?" She stared at her advisors. "I hope you don't think I forgot about them, did you?"

"No one would think you that stupid, your Grace," Davos smirked, pointing to Blackwater Bay. "Based on the latest intelligence, they left the harbor two weeks ago. Lord Rykker at Duskendale says they haven't been spotted in the northern bay, so they could be anywhere."

"Perhaps the King and Queen could scout him out on their dragons?" Sansa mused.

Jon silenced her with a glare. "Sister, Rhaegal is still recovering from the battle… and you know about Drogon…"

"What about Drogon?" Not helping herself, Daenerys could hear the slight panic in her voice. "Is he hurt?" She bit her lip.

Sighing, Jon covered her hand with his. "Physically, he's fine, but since you were captured he's been closed off to everyone. Simply resting on Dragonstone, depressed."

Her heart broke for her darling Drogon. "I will fly with Jon to Dragonstone as soon as possible. Bring Drogon here."

"A second dragon would certainly allow for a stronger attack upon the capitol," Tyrion said, tapping his fingers atop the table. "Although it would be preferable to see if the loss of her army would make Cersei more amenable…"

A fist slammed on the table. "Enough of this, Lord Tyrion," hissed Missandei. Shocking even the Queen at her forcefulness. "You give your sister every benefit of the doubt, even though she's clearly lost the right to live by her numerous crimes. She tried to kill you, so what possibly do you have to worry about in King's Landing?"

He hung his head, voice quiet. "My unborn niece or nephew… they are innocent…"

"Your nephew is no longer in King's Landing, Lord Tyrion." He looked up with wide eyes at Daenerys. Everyone except Davos did, shocked. "Tywin Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock, was born several days ago, while Cersei is in a coma due to a complicated labor. Ser Jaime gave him to me and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater while he was helping us escape."

"So that explains it." Varys pursed his lips. "My birds sing songs of Ser Jaime being taken into custody by Lord Qyburn. They must have found out of his true allegiance."

Damn you Cersei. Daenerys looked at Tyrion, his face mired in pain. "She will pay for her crimes, as will her inner circle, but only them. I do not intend on punishing a child for their parent's crimes. Little Tywin will go to your care, Lord Tyrion. Make sure to raise him well."

Wiping a stray tear, the Imp nodded. Touched by his Queen. "I will. Thank you so much, your Grace." Tyrion certainly hadn't been so… delighted while sober in a long time. Looking over at the King and Queen, just abashedly affectionate with each other in a manner he had frankly never seen in nobility before, the Imp couldn't deny that their happiness was affecting the moods of nearly everyone here. That or the battle, though probably both. "Well, considering that the entirety of the high command believes and the entire realm will soon believe that their Graces are already married, we could save the actual wedding for the coronation…"

"We will get married as soon as possible," Jon cut him off, voice curt.

"Tomorrow." Daenerys' bark was even more determined than the King's. Eyes locked on Jon's while speaking to everyone. "We will be married tomorrow, for our children will not be bastards for one day longer."

"Children?" it was Sansa, eyes wide.

"Aye, I am pregnant with twins." Smiles all around, even from Sansa. "Find a Septon, preferably one with discretion."

Missandei did not hide the grin forming on her face. "Do you think this would be… rather rash, your Grace?" The questioning tone did not reach her eyes.

Dany never broke her gaze at Jon, violet sparkling with love. "The King says we are married. Who are we to make him a liar, or the Lords and Ladies of Westeros dupes?"

"Plenty of Septons have arrived to bless the dead from the battle," Davos interjected, also not hiding his smile. Both have come a long way, gods bless them. "I'm sure I can find one on short notice."

"Get it done, my Lord Hand," Dany replied, now looking at him gratefully. She was starting to grow on him as her Hand - Aegon Targaryen put his trust in the proper people.

Only two seemed to be put off by the demand. Sansa was quiet, a guarded expression walling her off from the others. It drew irritation in Daenerys - she would have been angry had everything at that moment not felt like a dream - but Jon didn't even spare her a glance. On the other hand, Varys cleared his throat, disappointment evident. "Perhaps we should wait for the coronation as Lord Lannister proffered. It would serve as a unifying factor for all of Westeros to see the Dragonwolf and Mother of Dragons to wed and be crowned…"

"They'll already get that with the coronation, Lord Varys," Davos shot back. "They're just kids. Twenty and three - they deserve a fookin' moment to themselves before all their major moments become public and ceremonial." Someone has to fight for Jon and Daenerys, not the King and Queen.

Varys did not give up, resisting the urge to glance at Lady Sansa. Would not be wise to involve her in his fight. "That may be so, but it would signal a rapprochement with the Faith of the Seven. Public wedding with the High Septon officiating would go a long way."

He had a point, but so did Jon. "The Faith of the Seven will be glad we deposed of the Mad Queen that destroyed the Sept of Baelor." Pulling Dany to his side, he kissed her forehead. Hearing her sigh with happiness. "As for our wedding, my Queen wills it to be tomorrow. And tomorrow it shall be." The Master of Whisperers failed to respond. "Alright, if that's all, I'll bid all of you a good night. We'll announce our Queen's arrival to the army in the morning."

Missandei spoke up before anyone else could, cutting them off. "Do enjoy your evening, your Graces." Better stay far away from the royal tent if anyone wishes to sleep.

As they began to leave, Daenerys felt a hand on her arm. "Your grace…" It was Sansa. "I wasn't able to say this before the meeting started." Of course you didn't. "But from the bottom of my heart, I'm happy to see you safe and with my brother." A smile formed on her face.

Daenerys smiled back, hers just as obviously phony as the redhead's. "Thank you, Lady Stark." You won't tear us apart this time, greedy bitch. She could see the flash of… likely insincerity and bitterness in the Wardeness of the North's eyes. "Your words are most appreciated."

Luckily for both of them, Jon cut in. "We'll talk in the morning, sister." A gentle kiss to her cheek and Jon then escorted Daenerys out, leaving a rather obvious ice chilling the entire tent.

"Dispatch from King's Landing, sire."

Snatching the crumpled, wet piece of parchment from his first mate, Euron Greyjoy narrowed his eyes to read the faded scribbles. Crafty and intelligent as he was, Euron was never the best reader - and his writing was atrocious - always a source of mockery from Balon, but he was here and his older brother was being eaten by crabs.

Already was he at sea, somewhere off the coast from Massey's Hook. Always better to be away from land - with the enemy waiting in the air, at least out at sea he could spread out his forces.

Once he realized what Qyburn was telling him, a barking, cackling laughter erupted from his lips. Forced to lean against the bulkheads out of mirth.

"Sire?" asked the junior officer - one of his longtime veterans that he trusted enough to keep his tongue aboard the Silence.

"Oh those stupid fucks…" Euron wiped his eyes, controlling his laughter. "The Golden Company was annihilated by the Northern Bastard. Apparently his fucking dragon was more under his control than they all thought."

The officer looked at him with barely disguised fear. "But sire, without the ground forces King's Landing could fall within…"

He couldn't finish before Euron punched him in the face. "You stupid cunt. Am I the only one here capable of thinking?" Apparently he was - good as his trusted officers were, only Euron Greyjoy could devise actual strategy beyond surprise attacks. "The Realm needs savin' from the evil dragonlords. A savin' that they would even turn to a fuckin' crew of reavin' and rapin' pirates from the salt crags of Pyke to do it. Anything before King's fucking Landing is burned to a crisp."

"But sire, we wouldn't know if the Stark bastard would burn the capitol…"

The same cackling laughter interrupted the officer, still sprawled on the floor of the cabin. "Oh my dear first mate," Euron smirked. Gone was the bravado, the gregariousness. Upon the great Euron Greyjoy was something only his most trusted men saw - the real King of the Iron Islands. The schemer, the ruthless cunning that dwelled within his mind. A cunning that kept him alive for his years in exile, that brought him here to the pinnacle of what a lowly salt Lord's third son could only dream of. "Men are fools if they think themselves lucky. A true man makes his own luck." There was silence. Delicious silence. "If there doesn't exist a dragon that would burn King's Landing, then let us make one exist."

No sooner did the tent flap shut were the two pressed up against each other. Locked in a tight embrace and passionate kiss. Hands roaming. Tongues dueling. Souls reconnecting. "You… tomorrow…" Jon was having trouble thinking, the tiny, fiery form of his intended working at the ropey muscles of his neck.

Dany smiled against his skin, hands tangled in his wild curls. "Yes, tomorrow."

Jon yanked her head back, crashing their lips back together. "Why… why tomorrow?" he mumbled between devouring her mouth.

"Mmmmmm…" Her body was alight as he groped her all over. Possessive over what he loved. He loves me… "Can't wait… to be your wife. Can't… wait to have you either."

"As you wish." The King growled, pushing her back to strip her. Desperate to see the mother of dragons bare to him.

His fingers were all over her, brows furrowed and lips pursed in concentration as they slowly and reverently attacked the laces and buttons holding her riding blouse and trousers in place. It felt surreal to Daenerys, able to see his utterly handsome face. "Oh Jon…" she groaned, spurring him on with her breathy, lustful pleas. Hands that had only days before brought death and spilled the blood of their enemies upon the dusty soil of the Dusken River now ever so gentle upon her body. Ghosting across her skin with a scorching heat. Aegon Targaryen.

A pull of the strings caused the trousers to fall to the ground, exposing Dany's slender, pale legs. Without hesitation, Jon ripped off her riding top, leaving the gorgeous Queen - his gorgeous Queen - bare to him. Utterly and completely bare. He growled, wolfishly attacking her neck. Left hand weaving in her riding braid while the other darted for her sopping wet cunt. "Mine." The hiss came as he sucked and laved at her alabaster neck. "Mine forever, Daenerys." He pushed two fingers deep inside her, rocking against her sweet spot. "We will never be apart again."

"Jon…" she moaned deliriously. The pleasure she had long missed finally returning. Her able to unabashedly indulge in it. Revel in it. Bathe in it. Letting her neck fall to the side to expose more of her skin to him, Jon responding by yanking harder. Forcing her hair to come apart in his hands. Jon personally let her hair loose from its braids on the boat, and Dany loved it then as she loved it now. "Never… I'm… yours… and you… are mine." Daenerys yelped, eyes nearly rolling in the back of her head as he dipped to suck down her neck, shoulder, and chest. Worshipping her skin. "Don't stop."

Sucking a rose tip into his mouth, Jon growled again - a sound far deeper than that of a wolf. "Never." He curled his fingers inside of her, earning a muffled scream. Guiding her to a stout wooden pole that held the tent up. Bracing her back. "They will never take you from me."

Hand weaving into his hair, Dany pulled to see his eyes. Feeling a rush of wetness at the grey storms inside. At the ring of pure violet that suddenly appeared. "Never. I dare… fuck, Jon… them to try… ahhhhh!" Her King's curling fingers were bringing her close to shatter.

Jon felt the heat surging inside of him with each beat of his heart. "They will all burn!" Releasing her nipples, his hand yanked both of hers and pinned them to the thick wood above her head. Mouth by her ear. "I will see them burn," he hissed with all the savagery of a wildling berserker - of a dragon. "Fire and blood to any that harms you!"

"Fire… and blood…" Her climax was upon her. Forcing out a name… his true name. "Aegon. Aegon… AEGON!" Daenerys' thunderous climax was silenced by a forceful tongue crashing against her lips. Movements which she returned, frantically riding out the amazing pleasure he had given her. Screaming into his mouth at finally being able to enjoy him with her. Inside her.

But it was not enough. Not nearly enough to banish the thoughts of the Black Cells. Of the aftermath of the last time she felt this pleasure - the sadness and anger, anger at Jon. The man she loved and father of her unborn babes. Her King.

Fingers stilling inside her, Jon held her close. Fingers ghosting over her trembling back. It was cold outside, but the passion of their dragon blood warmed the tent considerably. "Daenerys… Aegon?" The question was on his lips.

A chuckle left hers, deep and husky. Stoking his fire ever higher. "Yes, my King. Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of his Name." She pulled back slightly, face triumphant - daring him to challenge her. "It is your name."

"It is…" Jon gulped, feeling the moisture leave his mouth. "Please, say it again."

"Oh? And why?" Dany reached down to palm his crotch. Enjoying his groan. Leaning to his ear. "Does it do something to you, Aegon?" Tongue licked the shell of his ear.

He bucked into her hips as a result.

Dany reached out, cupping Jon's cheek and rubbing her thumb against the prickly skin. Gesture loving and sweet, but the two dragons could feel the ripple of searing heat building between them. A hungry lusting for the other that went beyond mere desire - almost a sort of primal need that required satisfaction. Raging dragonfire that needed the torrent of release to dampen, to temper. Daenerys' hand drifted to run along the collar of his tunic. "You wear too many clothes, my King."

Now, it was his turn to wake the dragon. "And what will you do about it, my Queen?" With a roar more trademark of Drogon than Daenerys, she shoved him towards the camp bed. Tearing the tunic and trousers off his body. Caring little at any rips or tears that may have happened… not as if either could hear over the hungry kiss she roped him into. The distance was short, but she was insistent. Monarchs tumbling onto the bed both naked as the day they were born.

Rolling frantically on the bed, their kiss never stopped. Neither willing to break their tight embrace, a tiny voice beneath the lust and need afraid that if they let go, the other would disappear - everything simply a wonderful dream. "I'm ready, Aegon. Don't make me wait.

The way she said his name set a savage beast alive inside Jon. Grey and violet swirling in his eyes so dark as to be near black. "My dragon." His voice was half hiss, half snarl, cockhead finding her opening. "Mother of my children." Without warning he thrust inside her, battering through the last wall keeping them apart. Finding his way home.

"Ahhhhh." Stretching her walls, Daenerys felt utter bliss. This was it. What she dreamed of every night in the Black Cells. Then it was torture, but now in the reality of his arms and his touch, Daenerys truly felt heaven. "Mine," Daenerys husked, voice possessive. "Only mine. Mine to love, Aegon."

"Say it again!" Jon growled, starting to rock into her.

"Aegon. Aegon… ñuha jorrāelagon."

So forbidden, so frowned upon… Targaryens answer to neither gods nor men. Fucking his aunt, belly full with their babes, he truly felt his dragonblood burn inside him. "My dragon. My dragon. My dragon," he kept chanting like a prayer. Claiming her.

The bliss was perfect. Clouding her mind, overwhelming Daenerys until nothing was left but moans, pleasure, and random high Vlayrian. "Gaomagon jāre!" Only him… it had only ever been him. Drogo uncaring, Daario selfish and flashy. Mouth dropping to her neck, angling to slam his length against a sensitive spot inside her, only Jon truly wanted her. Wanted her pleasure as much as his own. "Qogralbar nyke qopsa, Aegon."

Her high Valyrian, it made her ever so exotic. Delicious. My mother tongue. He knew enough of her tone to gather the gist of it. "Mine to protect. Mine to wed, ñuha jorrāelagon." A phrase he had heard before, and had Missandei translate for him.

"Fuck, Aegon." The Valyrian in his northern accent… "More! Harder!" Dany's nails raked his back, drawing blood. "Dāez se zaldrīzes! Dāez se zaldrīzes!" Her begging was answered as he bit hard on her neck. Ravenous. Perfect. "Aegon!"

Jon was beyond words. Seeing only red… and her. Needing to defile her. Mark her. Claim her until she was a babbling mess, ruined for any other men. She tightened around him, Jon drawing on all his strength and endurance to pound through her clenched cunt. Harder. Harder. Harder… Fuck…

"AEGON!" It was no use holding on, Daenerys hurtling over the edge as she felt him explode inside her. Jon continuing to thrust through their shared climax, lips finding each other. Tongues grounding their pleasure against the other. It lasted what seemed like both an instant and hours - when over, Jon collapsed onto her, both groaning as the aftershocks trembled through them.

The once noisy room descended into silence. Pierced only by their deep breaths and pants, both dragons coming down from their high. "Gods…" Dany murmured.

"Aye," Jon whispered back. "I love you."

"I love you too." Dany ran her hands down his back, stroking the gouges her nails had left there. Marveling at the superheated skin. "I should have known that you were of Targaryen blood, my love."

An eyebrow rose. "Oh? And why is that?" Jon pulled out of her, causing Dany to wince.

She brushed her fingers along his cock, wet with his seed and her juices. "So passionate. So fierce. So… dominant in the bedroom." Dany bit her lip, smirking sultrily at him. "You fuck like a dragon."

"Not a wolf?" Jon laughed. "I think I took you like a wolf during the boatride." They were not rulers in that moment, but young lovers - wrapped around each other's bodies. It was… perfect.

"That too, though," Dany's smirk widened, batting her eyes coquettishly. "I think we need to make love more in order to differentiate the two." His weight upon her, hard muscles and heated skin pressing down in a comforting blanket, Daenerys sighed. Kissing a tiny scar adorning his shoulder. "Gods. I can't believe you're mine, Jon."

Smiling, heart finally at peace, Jon leaned down to kiss her lips. "So it's 'Jon' now?"

Daenerys laughed. "Jon, Aegon. Both are your names, both equal halves of the rightful King. And I happen to love both of them very much." Arms reaching above her head, stretching languidly as her body was able to relax - to calm and let go of the tension - for the first time in months, Daenerys didn't feel Jon leaving the tight embrace till his head disappeared under the furs. "My love, what are you…" A gasp left her lips as she felt his upon her abdomen.

Jon left feather light kisses upon the pale skin, drawing back to stare at the slight swell in wonder. Hands cupping it reverently. "I love you, little dragons," he breathed. "Your father will never let anything happen to you. Let anyone hurt you or your mother. You will always have me, my sweetlings." Another kiss upon the bump nestling their babies and he shifted back to Daenerys… who's eyes were brimming with tears. "Dany?"

She grabbed onto him. Burying her face into the heated skin of the crook of his neck. "You…" Both of them felt her tears starting to stain his shoulder. "You've given me everything."

"No I…" He was silenced with a smack to the chest.

"Don't speak little of yourself, my King." Daenerys pulled back, gazing into his eyes. "You've given me love, given me the Seven Kingdoms, given…" Grabbing his hand, she brought it back to the bump on her stomach. "Given me a womb swelling with children, our children. I will spend eternity showing you just how perfect you really are."

Rolling onto his side, Jon pulled her tightly against his front. Fingers softly stroking her hair. "Daenerys, you tell me to speak ill of myself, yet…" He kissed the hollow of her neck, coaxing out a deep moan. "Gods, you are the Mother of Dragons. The Breaker of Chains. I brought the wildings south of the wall, but you freed the slaves of the east. I vanquished our foes at the Dusken, you did at the Goldroad. I united the North, you united the south and the east. I killed the Night King… we would have all been corpses if not for you."

"Jon…" she gasped, love for him growing more and more.

He took both of her hands in his, clasping them all together. "I'm not a bloody poet, but perhaps… our greatness, we were meant to be. Blood of my blood."

Dany giggled through happy tears - only for Jon would she be so vulnerable and carefree. "You could be a poet if you want, Aegon Targaryen."

Jon's eyes darkened. "You know what that does to me, my Queen."

Pouncing, grabbing his hands and pinning them, Daenerys reveled in how he stared wantonly at her bare chest. Unabashed in his lust. "A King must please his Queen, Aegon Targaryen." Slowly, she felt him slip inside her once more. "Mmmmmm, blood of my blood."