The Wolf Who Preyed On The Dragon
Daenerys watched him during their small council meeting. His brows creased as they discussed battle strategies and plans of evacuating people from the most northern part of the region. Every so often he would glance her way or stroke his beard as they tried to come to a final plan. The King in the North listened to Davos and Jorah throwing around ideas, such as using the underground crypts at Winterfell as a safe haven for some or retreating to the Neck. Either way, no one found a substantial solution just yet.
Everyone was on edge, after leaving the Dragon Pit, their little group made it via boat back to the North, the horror they saw beyond the wall still fresh in their minds. What was to come? Would they make it? If so, what would be left of the world? These were the thoughts of almost each person sitting in the room. What plagued everyone’s conscience the most was their very new, very fragile alliance with Cersei. Almost every single person in this room was wronged by one of her actions. When they reached Winterfell, the inhabitants there were not happy about this new arrangement, however their king assured them that they had a plan. They didn’t, but they all made an unspoken pact to be weary of the new queen in the capital. Daenerys could see something in Arya’s eyes when Jon mentioned this alliance, it seemed to be ambition, as if she was working towards some sort of internal goal and it was finally in reach.
As the meeting went on, she noticed Jon tense up more and more. His eyes would narrow and his hand would clench around his goblet. She gave her opinion and he said nothing, which was unusual, normally he’d be quick to side with her or point out all the flaws in her plan.
Everyone knew Jon Snow was a different man after taking back his home, yes he was still honourable, yet there was something more intense and dark lurking underneath the surface. He was more determined now, more confident and took more control. According to the people who knew him before her, Jon Snow the King in the North truly became the white wolf after he was declared king.
The meeting drew to a close and the large group huddled out of the small solar. As she reached the door, she turned and saw him still hunched over his books. You’re going to kill yourself before the White Walkers reach us, she thought to herself. Jon’s head snapped up, his face hard, then she realised her thoughts came out as words. Letting out a huff, she closed the door and walked back towards the table.
“It’s true though,” she sat down opposite him, the fire still blazing, warming the room enough that there was no need for their thick cloaks, yet Jon still wore his.
“I can’t just sit back and wait for the world to end,” she could tell that he was frustrated and stressed.
“You can’t go into battle tired and dazed either,” she shot back, “you haven’t slept in three days, every night I wake up to find you sitting by the fire, you barely touch your food and you don’t even listen to anyone else’s suggestions.”
“Reminds me of someone else in this room,” he gritted back, he didn’t look up from book her was reading. Daenerys could feel her fury rising, remaining silent she calmed herself. The King in the North was stressed, it was time for her to help release the wolf and relieve some of that tension, before he does something irrational that will get them all killed. Maybe if he succumbs to all the emotions inside of him, he’ll be more focused afterwards, she thought. Jon had to relax and somehow be grounded in order to lead, he was the most experienced person when it came to the White Walkers and they needed him. Her next move was a dangerous one, but she had to try.
“Fine,” lifting herself off her seat, holding a goblet of wine, “for all the stories I heard and what I’ve seen, I’m rather disappointed, the great White Wolf can’t look after himself,” she walked around the table until she stood close to him, she could tell she had his attention, “makes me wonder if he can truly look after his people,” he was looking into the flames now, his face hard, “where’s the honour?”
Jon shot up, about to explode, when he saw the look on her face, her smirk, he played right into her hands. She moved closer to him, her hands resting on his chest, “ We need you to be focused,” she looked up, his eyes were narrowed, his jaw tense, gently she pushed him back into the armchair, “I need you. Out of all of us, you’re the leader, the one person who can actually make a difference, we need you to lead us now.” It was true, yes he was not the best politician and could be irrational at times, but when it came to practicality and actually putting plans into action, Jon excelled. She was sitting on his lap, her hands cupping his face, if anyone were to walk in now, it would not leave a good impression, the North was still wary of the Dragon queen at times and some of the lesser lords made it clear that they did not approve of Jon being so amicable towards her. Amicable, she found that amusing, if they only knew what good allies we really are, she told him one night, while they lay naked in his chambers.
“Let the wolf out Jon,” she whispered as she sunk deeper into him, “show us the true king in the North.” She saw something ignite in him. Suddenly his lips were on hers, this was different to other times they’ve kissed, it was hard, possessive, claiming. Pushing the cloak off his shoulders, she started loosening his jerkin. before she could succeed in her task, he pulled away, lifting them both up and walking them towards the rugs close to the hearth. They tore at each others clothes, removing the layers of insulating fabrics.
Daenerys felt him place her on the rugs, after nearly tearing her black and grey ensemble off of her, he had an animalistic look in his eyes, as if she was his prey. A wolf hunting a dragon, she thought. He covered his body with hers, kissing her neck and moving down, as he moved lower, she tugged at his hair, loosening it from the knot. Moving further down he claimed his prey, usually he’d be sensual and slowly work his way to her core and lick and kiss until she was lost in the sensation. The first time he ever kissed her there was on the boat, it was the first time she was every kissed there, it seemed as if the men in Essos were unfamiliar with this practice. Tonight, however, he was rough, this was him letting go of the last bit of restraint he possessed. As he ate, his hands roamed her thighs, legs, spreading them apart.
“My king,” she moaned, Jon froze and so did she, never did either one of them expect that to come out of her mouth. He looked at her, knowing fully well that her one goal was to still rule the Seven Kingdoms, which included the North.
Moving up, until her was inline with her, pinning her hands above her head, “Were you swearing fealty to me, Your Grace?” he bit her neck, making her squeal in surprise, his free hand grazing her breast, running over the nipple.
“Do you want to be ruled by the King in the North, Daenerys?” he slowly entered her.
“Jon,” she groaned against his lips, before he bit lower lip. They moved together, passion and fire burning them as they clung to one another. He stopped and flipped them over. He placed open mouth kisses all over her exposed shoulder and neck.
“Whose are you?” the question surprised her, but also excited her, it’s been a long time since she was claimed in such a primal way. She was the ruler, the queen and no man commanded her, yet for some odd reason she did not mind being his.
“Yours,” she whispered, neither one expected her response. She turned her head to the back, her hand grasping the side of his head, fingers tangling into his hair. They kissed as they both reached their peak.
Laying on the plush furs, he threw his cloak over them haphazardly. His face was buried in her hair,
“Jon we need you,” she whispered, “it won’t matter anymore if you’re not there,” she felt him tense up, “but as long as you’re still here with us, we have a fighting chance.” At that moment she didn’t given a damn about ruling, all she cared about was them, they’ve come so far, individually and together, if they lost, everything they did would have been for nothing.
He lifted her chin up and captured her lips, “We’ll survive, together.”
I’m going to hell for all the filth in my head. I really don’t know where this came from, it was definitely not suppose to be this long. I like to add a few of my theories into my fics, for example, I do think they’ll all be weary of Cersei and part of me feels as if Arya will be plotting her revenge, only for it to be stolen by one of the Lannister brothers. Let me know what you all think and whether you’d like my opinion on anything related to Season 7. It’s almost here, so excited!