So, this is a crazy idea that I had and I just needed to write it. I'm a Jonerys shipper first and foremost but, I have to admit, the idea of Dany and Jaime together has always fascinated me. Hence, this story. Hope you like it! Tell me what you think!

Chapter 1

"We can. I just told you how." Daenerys said coldly before leaving the room and Jon Snow with it.

Didn't he understand what would happen if his secret got out? Didn't he care what would happen to them, to her? Was he so caught up in his honor that he couldn't see what his family really was?

She didn't know what stung more, his rejection of her or her request. She begged him. She had never begged anyone before, for anything, but she had begged him and yet…it hadn't mattered to him one bit. His family, his honour, everything was more important to him than her.

He didn't even bother to ask her how she was after the battle, after she had lost Viserion and Jorah both. He didn't even come looking for her, too caught up in his siblings to care. Maybe he wouldn't even have cared if she had died. After all, he got what he wanted, didn't he? The Night King dead, the Army of the Dead defeated. He didn't need her anymore.

It's really over. Daenerys thought while walking through the barely lit Winterfell corridors. I love him but he doesn't love me back. He doesn't want me. Maybe he never really did.

Tears of anger and sadness both tried to escape from her eyelids but she held them in. A dragon doesn't weep.

Instead she made her way to the Great Hall again, in search of wine or even Northern ale, to drown her sorrows.

Fortunately, the hall is almost empty, most people having already gone to bed, probably not alone either. She noticed Jaime Lannister sitting alone at a table, head bent over a mug but not drinking from it.

She almost turned around to go to her room but then she figured it didn't matter. She sat in front of him instead, bringing him out of whatever misery he had been caught up in.

"Your Grace," he said, surprised, when he raised his head to find her in front of him.

"Am I still, 'your Grace'? Was I ever?" Daenerys asked, mostly talking to herself. "Your sister is still Queen, I lost all my allies except the Iron Islands, but Yara rules as Queen there, and the North…well, Jon Snow may have bent the knee but neither the Northern Lords, nor his sisters, seem to care about that." And when everyone finds out the truth about Jon, Daenerys thought, and they will as soon as Jon will tell his sisters, then what would I have left? Who would follow me then, when there is a male heir around? That's all that matters to people, does it? I am the one who brought dragons back into the world, but what does it mattered when Jon Snow, who has a cock, is able to ride one?

Her bitter thoughts left her a little ashamed of herself but she couldn't help it. Nothing went as she thought it would. She was losing everything, bit by bit. How long would it take before someone would try to kill her? Not long she imagined.

Jaime looked at her like she was a little crazy, after blabbing like she had done. Maybe she was. Everyone certainly expected her to become like her father. She had seen how they looked at her. No matter what she did, all everyone cared about was the fact that she was the Mad King's daughter.

In Essos, she was Mhysa, she was the Mother of Dragons. Here, the Country that should have been her home, she was just the daughter of a madman, who was destined to become mad herself, no matter what she wanted.

"You can call me Daenerys." She said to him, gaining her another weird look. "I don't feel much like a Queen tonight."

"Why not? You should be celebrating. We defeated a foe that seemed, by all accounts, unbeatable. You defeated death itself."

Daenerys smiled self-deprecatingly. "I didn't. Arya Stark did."

Jaime nodded, but he wasn't agreeing with her. "She did. But, we all know that, if it hadn't been for you, we'd all be dead by now."

"I don't think the Northern Lords know, or seem to care. And neither do Jon Snow's sisters. Or Jon Snow himself, for that matter."

"I always thought Northerners were idiots." Jaime said with a smirk. "I guess I was right."

Daenerys giggled a little. "They are. Pigheaded, narrow-minded and misguidedly proud as well. And cold, just like this frozen wasteland they call home."

Jaime smiled a little. "I see they didn't make much of an impression on you either."

"No. Definitely not." Daenerys said, frowning a little.

"A little wine, Daenerys?"

"Yes, please." Jaime poured some wine in a random cup before giving it to her, and then poured one glass for himself as well.

For a few seconds, there was silence, then Daenerys said, with a sigh, "I know why you did it."

"Did what?" Jaime asked her.

"Killed my father. Tyrion told me."

"Ah," Jaime said, "I thought he might."

"It doesn't make it any easier for me to accept but…I understand. I don't blame you for it."

Jaime smiled a small smile at her. It was a sad smile.

Daenerys noticed for the first time that Jaime Lannister was handsome. It hadn't mattered to her before. He was just her father's killer. He wasn't even a real person for her before. But talking to him, somehow, made him real.

"You know, it's ironic that you, of all people, can understand. I don't think others would have, even if I told them why I did it. All that mattered to them was that I broke the oath to my King. Nobody even bothered to ask me why."

Daenerys shook her head. "To some people all that matter are honour and oaths. Above everything else. Even if the consequences for keeping your oath or your honour, are worse than if you had broken it." She found it ironic that Ned Stark could understand that, and therefore he had kept silent all those years about Jon's real identity, and the boy who grew up following Ned Stark's teachings, couldn't see why it mattered for him to keep silent.

"You sound entirely too bitter about something that doesn't concern you personally. Unless it does…" Jaime said, looking at her with green eyes that seemed to see too much.

Daenerys shrugged. "Maybe it does."

"Huh, and is Jon Snow somehow involved in this? I would think you would be with him tonight, for a private celebration, instead of sharing a night cup with your father's killer?"

Daenerys tensed at his sarcastic words. "You thought wrong. There's nothing between Jon Snow and me."

Jaime raised a skeptical eyebrow. "If you say so, your Grace." He merely said, then, seemingly incapable of staying silent, he continued, "Like I said, he's a northerner, and therefore, an idiot. Only an idiot would reject the most beautiful woman in the world for honour of all things."

Daenerys jumped a little in her chair. Jaime Lannister had hit too close to home. "What makes you think he rejected me? Maybe I did."

Jaime grinned, but it was a grin deprived of humor. "I know that look. It's one I sported many times. I know rejection, your Grace."

"Not always idyllic between you and your sister?" Daenerys asked, a bite to her words.

Jaime glared. "You're the last person in the world who should judge me."

You're righter than you know, ser Jaime. Daenerys thought, but she answered instead, "I don't judge you because Cersei is your sister. But because she's a cunt."

Jaime snorted. Then outright laughed. "Yes, yes, she is. She's an evil woman. And yet…"

"And yet you love her. I know. You don't choose who you love."

Jaime looked surprised at her words. Then he nodded. "No, you don't. Though if we did, everything would be easier."

Daenerys nodded and then silence fell once again.

"I don't regret killing your father, that is true. But there are other things I regret." Jaime said then.

"Oh?" Daenerys asked.

Jaime nodded. "I regretted not saving Elia and her children, Rhaegar's children. And I regret not protecting your mother from your father."

Daenerys saddened at her words. "He was a monster. I'm happy I never met him. But I wished I'd known my mother. I don't know much about her."

"She was beautiful and kind and strong." Jaime said immediately. "You remind me of her, in fact."

Daenerys smiled, feeling tears filling her eyes but this time they were good tears. "Not of my father?"

"No, Daenerys. Your father wouldn't have come here and risk his life for ungrateful people. He would have waited in his castle while the rest of the world was turned into wights and then, if the Night King had reached King's Landing, he would have blown up the city with Wildfire."

Daenerys nodded, though she didn't feel any better. "Maybe I should have taken the capital when I had the chance and left the North to its fate."

"You could have, but that's not who you are, is it? I saw you out there, while the Lady of Winterfell cowered in the crypts, you were fighting on your dragon, risking your life. If these people can't see who you really are, then screw them. My father used to say that lions don't concern themselves with the opinions of sheep. Dragons don't either as far as I know."

Daenerys smiled, not knowing what to say in reply to his defense of her. "Tell me about my mother." She said, instead.

"You're a lot like her. Though Rhaella's strength was a quiet strength. It wasn't obvious at first, but it was there and it was deep. She loved her children more than everything. She would have done anything for them. She would have been very proud of you, of that I'm certain."

"Thank you, ser Jaime."

Jaime nodded and kept telling her small anecdotes about her mother and even about Rhaegar, though she didn't particularly want to hear about Rhaegar at the moment.

They talked for hours and, all the while, they kept drinking. Daenerys lost count of how many cups she had. She was feeling more than a little tipsy. But she didn't care. For the moment, the dark cloud of despair she had to bear for most of the night, was lifting little by little.

She couldn't believe her father's killer was to thank for that and yet, it was.

Finally, when the first rays of sunlight started to peek over the horizon, they decided that it was time to go to sleep.

Daenerys stumbled a little when she got up so Jaime offered to accompany her to her room.

They walked in silence, the hallways deserted. Finally, they stopped in front of the door to her room. Daenerys turned around, miscalculating how close they were. She had her back plastered to her door and the tip of her nose touching Jaime's chest. She hadn't realized how tall he was. She raised her head to look into his eyes and she found him already looking at her.

"Well, good night, your Grace." He said, voice low and strangely hoarse.

"Good night, ser Jaime." She said back, feeling strangely nervous.

There was a strange tension enveloping them both.

Jaime raised his good hand to move a lock of her hair behind her ear. His hand lingered a little, feeling its consistency on his skin.

Then he dropped it, bowed to her and left. Daenerys watched him go, wondering to herself what the hell had happened.