She had not been so unsure in years, not since her brother was alive. She had known that, no matter the immediate setback, she was on the right track. She would prevail. She would make the right decision in the end. Any failures she might encounter were the product of circumstance, and not a threat to her rightful place as Queen.

Now, her sense of certainty had faltered. These last weeks with the Northern King had shaken her more than she liked to admit. She felt pulled in opposite directions. Pulled between duty and Love. She knew that she had already compromised for this softness in her heart. Allowing him to distract her with this campaign to the North, when she should have been focussed on retaking the Red Keep.

She was not even sure that what she was experiencing *was* love. It may be simply attraction, which would make what she had risked even more foolish. For all her power and determination, she had little experience in the matters of the heart. Falling in love with Drogo had been a matter of circumstance and a means to an end. Her love for her husband had been true, but not organically achieved.

With Daario, it had been even less complicated. She had never loved him. She had desired him, and he was a pleasant distraction when it was convenient. In the end, he had been little more to her than a plaything.

Jon was different. Already she felt she would be destroyed if she lost him. This time, loving him was the farthest thing from convenient and if anything distanced her from her political goals. A good Queen would protect herself and be prepared to double-cross her rival the moment it was prudent to do so.

But she could not imagine that. As strongly as her body yearned for his, her heart longed as strongly for him to be safe and happy. The simple idea of hurting him caused her enough pain that she could not entertain the idea further, let alone plan for a strategy to the throne that involved hurting him in any way. Her only hope politically was that he was as weakened as she, and would not betray her.

She could no longer envision a future without him, and could only pray that he had understood her words earlier that evening. That he would seek her company before she had to degrade herself further and make her desires even more plain.

She had been alone in her cramped quarters for too long now,she was sure that if he intended to come to her tonight, he would have done so already. She was about to exit the room to locate Missandei and ask for her assistance when a knock came at the door.

Her heart nearly stopped. She had been quietly hoping to hear that knock for weeks. But now she was unsure, perhaps it was her handmaiden come to help her prepare to retire, or an advisor visiting late at night to discuss a battle plan or diplomatic strategy, The knock itself was quietly unfamiliar, enough so that she allowed herself to hope as she reached for the handle.

She swung the door open, her heart in her throat and her breath caught on a prayer, to find him standing in front of her. He was beautiful and nervous, clearly unsure of his reception.

Her gaze caught in his for just a moment and she could read the question there, asking if he was welcomed. She had no words to answer him, so instead she stepped aside to let him into the small cabin.

He stepped into the room, his gaze never leaving hers, and the door closed with a soft but definite thud behind him. She returned his gaze as steadily as she could, her heart was racing and her breath came with shallow rapidity. She could not remember if her cabin had always been so small. It felt as though the room had shrunk when Jon walked in.

He was standing so close she could feel his breath against her cheek; it came quick - nervous.

His eyes were searching hers. He seemed to be looking for the right words, or perhaps just he was just trying to summon the courage to give voice to words he already knew.

She did not need to hear the words she could read on his face. She had had the same thoughts racing around and around her mind for days. Even weeks. I want you, I'm afraid. I don't know what it means. Is this a terrible idea? I don't care. It will be worth the sacrifice.

So, rather than allowing him to speak, she acted. She moved forward, just slightly, and brought her lips to his. The kiss was soft, gentle. She brought a hand up and laced it through the curls at the back of hi neck, holding his head in place for a moment.

All too soon, he pulled back - just slightly- and held her gaze, steady despite his ragged breath and the hum of emotion that seemed to fill the room and set her body buzzing.

"My Queen, I - " he said, so softly she would not have heard him were he not so close, "you must allow me to tell you…" he trailed off.

"I know," she replied, and leaned back to recapture his lips with hers. They fit together perfectly; his lips were warm and soft, she felt she could lose all track of time and consequence kissing him. She relaxed against him with a sigh and felt his hands wrap around her and settle on her lower back, supporting her and preventing her from pulling away.

His lips were soft and insistent; pushing into hers and then pulling away just enough to make her chase them back and draw him back in. He was not going to allow her to be passive. She could not allow him to stop kissing her. Touching her. His touch sent fire through her; coursing from her lips to her lungs and settling deep in her belly.

She moved slowly backwards, toward the large berth she had been given, pulling him along with her with each step, never losing connection. Finally, her legs hit the soft fabric of her bed, and she sat down upon it. He remained standing, but their eyes remained locked together even as their bodies parted.

In the warm candlelight of her cabin, she could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the wide pupils making his dark eyes appear fully black, and the slight openness of his lips which told her he was lost for words. All she wanted was to be close to that chest, to see the eyes blown wide in pleasure, feel those lips against her skin. Without breaking eye-contact, she reached to the neck of her thick wool gown and slowly began to pull the knots from the stays, allowing the fabric to fall open. With the dress unfastened, she shrugged out of it and it pooled around her. As it fell away from her shoulders, she could see his breath hitch as his eyes left hers and travelled downwards.

Although she had dreamt of this moment many times, considered it even in waking hours when she had allowed her mind to wander on slow evenings when there was nothing to do but wait, she found herself suddenly nervous. She felt exposed, vulnerable. She trusted him completely yet felt that he could break her so easily. She could feel the flush creeping up her neck and wanted to grab a blanket from behind her and cover herself. She had not been this nervous around a man since she was first married.

Just as her nerves might have failed her, Jon's eyes returned to hers and she found herself suddenly calm. His gaze was steady and full of promise. She grabbed his hand and guided him to sit beside her on the bed, where she leaned over and recaptured his lips once more.

The moment she pulled him to sit beside her he felt his hesitation vanish. He had been left utterly speechless when she removed her gown. She was beautiful. He needed nothing except for her. When she kissed him again it sparked something deep inside him.

He pushed gently against her shoulder, urging her to lay down, swiftly following her with his own body hovering just a hair's breadth above her. He could feel her warmth radiating along the length of her exposed body, and wished he were not wearing so many layers. He kissed her firmly, his left hand winding itself into her silver hair while his right hand worked its way down her side, feeling the swell of her breast and the curve of her waist.

He was lost in her. His heart pounded and his lungs burned from lack of breath. His hands explored her body; moving down her sides and then back up to cup a perfectly soft breast. His fingers once dragged against a pebbled nipple, drawing a moan from deep within her. She shifted, arching off the bed to press firmly against him.

Suddenly, removing the layers between them was more important than maintaining his connection to her, so with more resolve than he knew he had, he pulled away from her lips. Immediately, he caught her eyes instead. He saw his own emotions reflected back there. Her breath was ragged, her pupils blown wide.

She tried to pull him back to her, but he held firm.

"Wait," he told her. Before the disappointment could register in her eyes, he explained "I need to feel you and these leathers are far too uncomfortable."

A beautiful mischievous look immediately took over her features and her small hands came up to help him with the lacing of his outer layers. They made quick work of his clothes, leaving them strewn across the cabin. Immediately after the last bit of material fell to the floor, Jon was on her once more, kissing her as though she was all that was left in the world.

His hands explored every inch of her; teasing her nipples and then inching tantalizingly lower across her stomach. His lips moved from hers to explore her jaw, and then her throat. He found a point where her shoulder met her neck that made her gasp when his lips brushed it. He focused on this pint, nipping and licking and sucking, causing her to writhe beneath him in a way that made him ache.

"Jon," she breathed against his ear, "please."

"Soon," he said, "be patient."

His hands moved from her hips across her thighs, teasing and slow. She gasped lighty, a whine escaping her lips in what was clearly annoyance. Grinning against her skin, he moved the fingers of his right hand to her damp folds, caressing. She was so warm, and he was so hard, He was desperate to take her, but he wanted to be sure she was fully ready. As his thumb brushed against the sensitive nerves at her peak, he felt her reach into his hair, tugging him to her face. He kissed her hard, his hand still working between her legs.

Still kissing him, she pressed her hand against his shoulder. He thought for a moment that she was pushing him away, but as he pulled back, she followed him with her lips and body, rolling them over in one fluid motion.

"That is enough waiting. Please, let me have you," she looked at him with such intense passion that he could deny her nothing. He simply nodded as she adjusted her position over him, lining herself up with his straining cock before sliding down.

As he entered her, it seemed the world tilted on its axis. Although, that may have just been the a large wave hitting the hull of the ship. All he was sure of, in that moment, was that he never wanted to let her go. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, as she moved herself rhythmically against him. She moved with skill, gripping and releasing and teasing in such a way that he feared this would be over too soon.

He pulled her back down to him and kissed her soundly. Holding her body close to his, he rolled them over, re-entering her swiftly and looking down at the woman he loved so much he feared it would kill him. He kept his gaze locked with hers, praying she read his love for her in them.

He filled her so completely she could hardly breathe. The look in his eyes lit her heart on fire. He moved inside her so perfectly that she felt she might break open; the pleasure in her body and earnest adoration in his eyes combining to tear down the walls she had built around herself. She felt shattered yet whole.

He kissed her once more and she raised up against him. Pressing herself firmly against the entirely length of her body as shed peaked, her pleasure crashing over her in waves. Her heart leapt and seized and she thought she never never been happier than in that moment; pressed close to the Northern King and shaking in his arms as they became one.