Hello everyone! Another one-shot story is written during procrastination! I should probably stop doing this. Well anyways here it is. I'll try to update my other stories when I get a chance.

Hopefully, you all like it!

Last night had been a disaster. He may have been deep in his cups, but he can't forget the way she looked when he pushed her away or as she begged him not to reveal the truth or even as she left his room for good. They were haunting looks, ones he can't seem to get out of his mind. He's sure now that he had ruined everything that had been formed between them.

Now as they stand here planning their next move, she won't even look at him.

"We'll march down in a month then," his Queen says, and he quickly looks up at her surprised by this.

"A month?" Sansa asks before he can.

"Yes. The armies need to rest and the Maester recommended that I rest that long as well," she reveals and he feels panic filling him.

Is she hurt? Is she ill? How had he failed to ask and know about her wellbeing?

"Are you alright?" Tyrion asks, just as confused as he is.

She gives her Hand a soft smile before answering.

"Yes. It's mostly a precaution at this point, we'll talk more about it in private," she says.

Tyrion gives a nod and the man seems to relax at the Queen's words. But he doesn't. He can't. Tyrion will know what's wrong soon, but he won't. He lost the right to know.

Before he can fall into a bigger hole of fear and sadness, Varys enters the room and hands Daenerys a note. She takes but a moment to read it before she turns her attention to Sansa.

"Lady Stark, I apologize but it seems we will have a few more guests joining us in Winterfell. I know you've been worried about the using of the North's resources but one of the guests is bringing grain and other resources with him, so you will no longer need to worry about my armies. If you excuse me, I need to go rest and prepare for their arrival," the Queen announces before turning and leaving the room with her advisors, not once looking at him.

He sighs, preparing to leave, but is stopped by Arya.

"We need to talk," his youngest sister says.

He sees Sansa also giving him a look that she was not going to let him be.

"Fine but at the Godswood, not here," he says, walking towards Bran. Both his sisters nod and walk out the room he takes a settling breath before getting ready to push Bran down tot the Godswood.

"Wait," his brother says.

"What is it Bran?" he asks.

"You don't have to tell them," Bran says in his monotone voice.

"They deserve to know the truth," he says to the second person in a day.

"Maybe, but do they need to know now?"

Do they? He could wait to tell them after Kings Landing is under Dany's control. Does it really matter?

"I don't know," he admits.

"Think of Cersei, of Littlefinger. If they had this information and it would be to their advantage, what would they do?" Bran asks.

"They'd use it against Daenerys and for their own benefit," he answers without hesitation.

"Keep that in mind when thinking about Sansa, she may be a Stark, but she spent many, many years under their wing," Bran warns before warging away.

He pushes his brother out of the castle and into the Godswood, where his sisters were waiting.

"What took you so long?" Sansa asks.

"Bran needed to say a few things to me before we came down here," he excuses.

"And?" Arya asks.

"He warged away before he finished," he lies, and he can see that surprisingly they believe him.

Before he knows it he begins to be verbally scolded and attacked by his sisters, both of them telling him how bad of a person Daenerys was, really showing how much they hate her.

He can't tell them. That much is obvious to him. One day, if he can trust them again he'll let them know the truth. But not now.

So, he just listens and ignores, knowing deep down that he's right about the type of person Dany is and how good of a queen she is going to be. He's so focused on this fact that he misses the hint of a smile form on Bran's face as he returns to them.

A little less than a fortnight passes when the queen's "guests" arrive.

During that time, she had met and personally talked to every remaining Northern Lord listening to their grievances, their needs and opinions as to what she could do to win Kings Landing and make the life of the North better. She seemed to have won them over, one by one they seemed to realize how different she was to those talks of mad Targaryens and the horrible Kings and Queens of the past few years. He had been happy for her, even if she did not once meet with him or even spoke to him during these two weeks.

He was happy until he spoke to Tyrion and he revealed what these "guests" came here for and what certain sons of Lords had recently spoken about.

"The Queen is expected to marry," the youngest Lannister told him, gulping down his sixth cup of wine that night. "She needs to make alliances with different houses and marriage is the easiest way to do so."

Tyrion pauses to refill his cup as he himself tries his best not to explode in rage in front of the dwarf.

"The Prince of Dorne and heir of Highgarden are both coming to try to claim her hand. Some of the Northern Lords have been pushing their son's forward as well."

"What does the Queen say about this?" he asks, fighting the tightness in his voice.

The Hand seems to get nervous at this question and downs his cup and refuses to look at him.

"At the end of this, it's her choice and decision to make," is all Tyrion says before standing up and leaving him alone.

Today he's watching as these true born Lords arrive at Winterfell and immediately start charming the Queen. He tries his best to hide his emotions but if Sansa's glares are anything to go by, he's failed miserably. As soon as it's acceptable for him to do so he leaves and looks for the closest thing to hit. He's a bastard, she's a Queen. What more could he expect?

Except he isn't. But he's not sure he'll ever get used to that fact.

This goes on for days.

Throughout his life as a bastard, he's felt many different emotions. Anger, betrayal, sadness, loneliness and, on their way back to Winterfell, joy and love. Now as he watches from afar as the woman he loves, but shouldn't, speaks with different men, different suitors, he can't fight against this horrible feeling growing inside and threatening to ruin his self-imposed separation from her.

He needs to get away, to find some form of peace.

Without even thinking he walks out of Winterfell and walks towards where he knows the dragons rest. He finds Rhaegal there, the poor thing still recovering from his wounds against the night king. The green dragon named after his father lifts his head and makes a chirp of joy at seeing him.

"Hey boy," he says softly, caressing the scaled head. The dragon begins to purr in satisfaction. "I'm sorry for not coming to visit you sooner, but things between your mother and I…" he sighs, not knowing how to explain these things to a dragon.

But somehow the dragon seems to understand and nudges his head in a comforting manner.

"Do you think we could fly somewhere?" he asks, and all the dragon does is stand up and lower his shoulder to let him climb on.

He does it far easier than he did the first time and settles in before Rhaegal decides to take off. He lets the dragon set the pace and the direction, while he enjoys and cherishes the feeling of flying. Without directing him, Rhaegal still seems to know exactly where he wants to go. The waterfalls soon come into view and surprisingly he sees Drogon on the ground near them.

Upon landing he sees that the dragon is not alone, there, sitting on the ground is Dany and even more surprisingly, Ghost, who is being petted by his queen.

She looks up and the smile she had before fades as she sees him climbing off of Rhaegal.

"My apologies Your Grace," he says. "I didn't know Rhaegal was bringing me here."

"No worries, my Lord. If you need to be alone, I'll leave," she answers, carefully standing up.

"NO!" he exclaims, shocking them both. "No, don't go."

She nods but looks away from him and goes back to running her fingers through Ghost's fur.

"He's a sweet thing. Reminds me of my Dragons when they were younger," she says.

"Aye, he really is a truly loyal friend," he says.

"Those are hard to come by my Lord, you have to make sure to keep them close to you," she says sadness lacing her voice.

"Dany…" he says, and he watches as she grimaces.

"Don't call me that, please. I…I'm trying to move on, accept that you and I…" she starts with tears filling her eyes.

He's not sure what to say to that. He's the problem, he knows it. He's the one who refused her, who's pushed her away. What right does he have now to comfort her? Her suitors have more rights than he does at the moment.

"Are you going to marry one of them?" he needs to ask, having been reminded to the reason he has escaped Winterfell, to begin with.

It takes her a minute; silence surrounds them as she seems to be looking for the best way to answer.

"I'm going to have to marry someone," she says.

"Do you lo… fancy any of them?" why he's asking and torturing himself he doesn't know.

"It doesn't matter. Being in love or fancying someone has only gotten me hurt. I won't be making that mistake again," she answers and he can't help but grimace knowing he's at fault for this.

"Then why do it?"

"Alliances. I need to find a husband for stability and security," she says. "Someone who will be at my side without hesitation, even if it's just for their egos or personal gain," she sighs before speaking the final part just above a whisper. "It's not just me that I have to think about now."

As she says this, he watches as she moves her hand and lays it upon her abdomen. He feels his heart clench before it shatters.

"Y…you're…" he can't even speak.

"It's the reason the maester told me to wait a month before traveling. Falling from a dragon and fighting the dead… there was a risk of losing the babe… I couldn't go through that again, so I decided to stay; swallow what little pride I have left and stay here a few weeks until the Maester confirmed it was safe to travel."

Without warning, he walks towards her and places his hands upon her hips.

"You…You're carrying our babe," he needs her to confirm it one more time.

She takes his hand and places it on her abdomen.

"I am."

He kisses her then. Tired of fighting against his emotions. Tired of staying away from her. Tired of watching all those men after her. But above all he's happy. Beyond happy even. The woman he loved was carrying his child. What she had thought impossible, happened.

She pulls away. Her eyes are full of tears as she takes steps back away from him.

"Dany…" he says taking a step towards her.

"Stop!" she yells. "Stop this right now! I'm trying to move on Jon! I can't…."

"What?! You're still thinking about marrying one of those lords?"

"Yes! This babe changes nothing," she says.

"This babe changes everything!"

"My place is down south. Yours is up here in the North with your family. Nothing about that has changed," she tells him. "I need a husband at my side down in Kings Landing."

"So, you would deny me, my child!"

"No! How can you even think that?" she asks indignantly.

"That's what it seems like!"

"If I wanted to deny you our child, I would not have told you. I would have married the Prince of Dorne and claimed the child his!"

"But you're still considering marrying him?"

"I have to Jon! I have no other choice!" she takes a settling breath, her hand resting on her abdomen. "Once I reclaim Kings Landing and am crowned, I'll marry whoever the best match is. Our child will want for nothing, that I can assure you. He'll be a Targaryen; he'll carry my name proudly."

She wipes a few tears away.

"You'll be told when he is born and I'll even consider flying somewhere a few times a year to let you see him. Not Winterfell, I know neither of us will be welcomed back here," she turns to look at him, "He'll know his father loves him, that he is a man of honor and the dutiful Warden of the North. I promise."

He doesn't have an opportunity to answer before she carefully climbs onto Drogon's back and flies away. He stands frozen for a few moments, staring at where moments ago the love of his life, the mother of his child, stood.

He screams.

He's insufferable.

At least that's what Arya says after their sparring session. He's been sparring more and more since that day at the falls. He can't get past all his anger, all his grief. He's brutal to whoever decides to face him in the training yard. One of those times he caught a glimpse of Dany walking around the grounds, her arm interloped with one of the Lords and he saw red. He found the nearest training dummy and destroyed it.

Those Lords aren't good enough for her. They aren't good enough to raise his child.

Gods his child.

He would never be a father to him if Dany went south and married one of these Lords. He would have to live the rest of his life knowing that Dany is with another man and his child knows someone else as his father. He can imagine their child learning to walk, saying Papa to another man, learning to sword fight and mount a horse. He also sees Dany smiling at someone in a Sept, growing large with child, completely naked beneath a man moaning out in pleasure…

He finds the closest dummy and destroys it.

"Easy there my Lord. Soon Winterfell won't have any more of those if you keep it up," he hears Ser Davos say behind him.

He turns to face his advisor, panting in exertion and rage. There's a moment that the older man steps back startled but soon his advisor gives him a look of sympathy. And that look does him in.

He sobs. For the first time since he found out the truth of his parentage, falling in love with Dany, losing her and finding out he was losing his child as well, he sobs.

His advisor simply holds him guiding him away from judging eyes and into the privacy of an empty room.

And in that room, he tells Ser Davos everything.

The man seems to somehow age a few years right in front of him with all the information he receives.

"Lad, I wish you had come to me sooner. No wonder you're going mad," Davos says and he grimaces.

"Can you not refer to it like that," he asks, but the former smuggler doesn't address it.

"Right then. What do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know… I lost them… both of them because I couldn't get out of my own damn head," he runs his fingers through his hair frustrated by it all.

"You haven't lost them yet. They're still here and the Queen still has not made any announcements regarding marriage. You still have a shot at winning her back," his advisor says.

"But how? I've ruined any chance I had. She thinks I don't want her, that I don't love her."

"And do you love her?"

"More than anything, more than anyone. I… I don't think I can live without her Davos. She… she brought meaning back to everything," he admits without shame or hesitation.

"Then tell her that. And do it soon or your child and love will belong to someone else," Davos pulls him up to stand and straightens him out a bit. "She doesn't need a Lord or a bastard, lad. Aye, she fell in love with one but it's not what she needs. She needs a King at her side and its time for you to be what you were always meant to be."

"A King…"

"Her King," Davos corrects and he can't help but smile at the man.

"Thank you, Ser Davos," he says, before leaving the room and heading straight for the Queen's quarters.

He hesitates for a moment before knocking, and he's met with Missandei.

"Lord Snow," she addresses him.

"I need to talk to Daenerys," he says not bothering with formalities.

"She's a bit indisposed, my Lord," Missandei says and concern fills his gut.

"Is she alright?" he says in panic and Dany's friend seems to understand.

"She's resting. Her morning illness was particularly harsh today and she hasn't been resting as much as she should," Missandei tells him.

"Please Missandei," he begs, taking the advisor's hand in his own. "Please."

She takes a moment to think and she gives him a small nod. She opens the door and moves aside to let him in. His queen is asleep he can see how tired she seems even in sleep. It might just be his eyes but she seems thinner than before.

"How long has she been ill?" he asks in a whisper.

"White Harbor. It's normal for a woman to be ill like this but the stress, the lack of sleep, it's making it worse."

He sits in a chair next to her bed and takes her hand gently in his own.

"Would you mind leaving us alone, Missandei?"

"Of course," she agrees with a soft smile on her face before leaving the room.

He turns his attention back to the woman he loves and to the soft hand, he continues to hold. He places a kiss on her hand.

"I'm sorry Dany, I'm so sorry. I've been an idiot," he says softly. "I've been such an idiot that I might lose you both. I got stuck in my own head and pushed you away when there's really no reason why I did. I never stopped feeling the way I do for you and no relation changes that for me."

He chuckles sadly, taking one of his hands and placing it on her abdomen. He feels a little bump and he nearly loses it.

"You have no idea how much I wanted this Dany. Every day on the boat I prayed to the gods to let us have a child. To let me give you this happiness. I love you so much that I didn't mind fathering a child, although I had sworn to never have one."

He takes a deep breath.

"I love you two, so much. I can't lose you. Even if I have to spend the rest of my life making up for my mistakes," he vows.

He feels her move but refuses to move his hand from where their child is growing. He watches her face, waiting for her eyes to open and when they do and they are wet with tears, he knows she heard him.

"Did you mean it?" she asks, barely above a whisper.

"Every word," he says. "I love you Dany and I hate that I made you doubt that."

"Y…you're not just here for him?" she asks, moving her hand to lay on his.

"No. I'm here for you," he assures her. "Even before you told me I was fighting with myself to come back to you. Just seeing those lords…"

"Jon Snow was jealous," she says with a small laugh.

"Aye, I was. I wanted to kill every single one of them. I'm pretty sure I've left the keep without practice dummies," he says and she laughs. "Please forgive me."

She reaches her hand towards his head and pulls him to her until their lips meet. It builds and soon he's above her.

"We have to talk," he says between kisses as they begin to rip their clothes off each other.

"Later," she pants out. "I need you, now."

"Rest?" he tries to argue but not really.

"Later."

And he'll make sure of this later, but for now, he needs her as much as she needs him. He'll make sure to show her how much he loves her and erase any doubt she may ever have again.

I may or may not continue this but for now its a one-shot. If you all want more let me know and I'll see what I can do!