Silent Declarations

"Why?"

Daenerys paces in her cabin, constantly mumbling the word to herself, even though she isn't entirely sure what question she's asking.

'Why did he bend the knee when I'd already agreed to support him?'

'Why did holding his hand feel like the most passionate of love making?'

'Why did it seem as if he meant something else when he called me his queen?'

'Why does it feel like I'm walking through fire every time I'm close to him?'

Ever since their intimate conversation at his bedside, being around Jon Snow has been delightful torture. She had left his room for very good reason then, overwhelmed by the looks he was giving her and her own unexpectedly strong emotions. So many men have desired her, worshipped her and confessed their love to her but this is different. He is different. It makes no sense how thrilling it feels being close to him.

And she is cross with herself for being so unguarded because of it. Not that she has ever been good at fooling those close to her in regards to her feelings, but she knows that they all know now … all know what he feels for her and what she is beginning to feel for him.

She shakes her head as she changes into her nightdress, trying to deny it and still dwelling on their earlier conversation and how Jon had somehow managed to turn a perfectly reasonable conversation about her inability to have children into something else entirely.

He had frowned at her comment, considering. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You've supported my claim publicly now," she replied, "and so it's only right you understand that I can have no heirs. That you understand what that might mean to the succession."

He shook his head slowly, his gaze never once leaving her and a small, sly smile now on his lips. "Why are you telling me this again?"

He had been amused because he guessed the real reason. Guessed that her feelings for him had changed and that it was only a matter of time before this tension, this … whatever it was between them … would have to be addressed. And it wouldn't even be a bad idea; a marriage alliance between her and her new Warden of the North but ...

At the time, Jon's question had thrown her and she could do nothing more than shake her head, quite unable to put any of that into words, even though she'd had no problems proposing such an alliance before.

"It doesn't matter to me," he had said in response. "Whatever your reason for telling me. It doesn't change how I feel."

"About my ruling the Seven Kingdoms?"

He shook his head again, his gaze still on her. "It doesn't change how I feel about you."

And she had bolted … again. Strode straight back to her cabin without looking back. Why? Why does he always do this to her? Why does she feel totally unable to talk through her feelings with him?

~o~0~o~

The knock on the cabin door makes her jump and she turns to see Jon already standing inside; his back against the door and his eyes wild. She licks her lips as she takes note of the state he is in, knowing that, despite all her nervousness, she won't be telling him off for entering without permission and certainly won't be turning him away.

He's wearing far fewer clothes than is his custom – just a shirt and trousers - and is just staring at her, lips slightly parted, stunned to see her in just her nightdress. Then his gaze changes back to the one she is seeing far more often now. The one full of adoration. The one which makes it hard to breathe.

'Why ...?'

She starts to form the question but he shakes his head, a finger on his lips and a nervous glance at the door behind him. She nods, understanding and silently agreeing. They might not of been able to hide their growing attraction from the others but this … this is for them and them alone. They manage to convey so much in that one, long look and so when Jon nods back, it is as if he has actually asked her out loud if he can stay and as if she has verbally agreed. He places one hand behind his back, grabs the door bolt and draws it across aggressively, the wildness briefly back, before turning again to regard her fully, breathing heavily again. Then he crosses the room in two quick strides and Daenerys gasps, fully expecting him to grab her and take her there and then and realising she won't mind one little bit.

But he stops short, his gaze still burning right through her as he slowly raises one hand and places it gently on her cheek. Just holding hands with him had made her insides twist but this action sets them on fire and, as he moves his thumb to gently stroke her lower lip, she remembers a story Doreah once told her and wonders if it is possible for him to finish her there and then without either of them having even undressed.

It is totally unexpected, this side of Jon Snow. She knew he was a great warrior even before they'd met and, as such, had actually felt disappointed when she'd first set eyes on him and compared him to those fighters she had known in Essos. Handsome, certainly, and with a certain presence, but it was only when she'd flown north and seen him in action that she'd fully understood what she'd been told; seeing that pure and beautiful fighting rage put to good use and falling in love with him there and then. She nods, only then realising that that was when it had happened. And yet this? This beautiful, gentle soul with his intense gaze and fiery touches? Where does this part come from?

'He should be ice,' she thinks, 'but he's fire too … just like me.'

She frowns, wondering why an image of Jon touching Drogon has just appeared in her head at that moment. That had shown his braveness, of course, but it had shown something else. Her dragons just didn't allow someone to approach them like that, not unless she'd given them her permission.

Her two dragons.

Tears filled her eyes at the thought and Jon lifts her chin, a look of concern on his face and sympathy radiating from him in waves. He won't understand, she realises, he'll think she's changing his mind and that just won't do at all. So, she lifts her head to quickly kiss his lips and even this brief taste of him sets her body on fire. How will she survive any more?

Again she had expected – hoped – that this move would set him alight too. Would allow him to drop his guard and just take her but, to her frustration, he kisses her back even more tenderly; small gentle touches which she would describe as chaste if it wasn't for the tiny licks and nibbles he's employing. 'He's trying to kill me,' she decides as she allows herself to melt in his embrace.

It is no good. It is going to take all night if she lets him dictate the pace and so, with a loud sigh, she takes one step away from him and, with his intense gaze still on her, allows her nightdress to fall to the floor.

Daenerys has never had any qualms about her nakedness, having been quite often in a state of undress in public. And when she had emerged from the fires like this, everyone's reaction had been one of devotion rather than desire and that had always felt right. But not with Jon. She doesn't want his devotion – not in that way – no, she wants his love and, right now she just wants him.

And then, to her shock, he does just that – the very last thing she would ever expect him to do in private. He closes the small space between them and drops down on one knee, head bowed, worshipping her.

She actually feels disappointed and hurt. 'Not in here,' she thinks. 'This is not what I want from you at all.'

And then he raised his head ever so slightly and she catches his smirk and the sparkle in his eyes and realises he's playing with her, even is she's not entirely sure of the game. Jon then uses his raised knee to move himself even closer and, to her total surprise, kisses her lightly between her legs.

Having gone so slowly up until now, this sudden move is a delightful shock and Daenerys quickly plants her feet further apart and places her hands on his head, encouraging him to continue whilst her fingers grasp his dark curls. This is what Missandei had whispered to her about Greyworm - between delighted giggles – and, despite her previous lovers, Daenerys had never experienced anything like this before. He stops briefly to place a finger against his lips again and she assumes she must have made some noise, but he has already resumed his ministrations and all she can focus on then are the waves and waves of fire that are rippling through her body at his tongue's expert touch.

She steps away from him then, shaking her head, just overcome by the intensity of it all. Too much, too soon but, more to the point, Jon's still fully dressed and that just won't do at all.

She returns to him quickly, grabbing at the hem of his shirt and is not surprised when he stills her hands, uncertainty and nervousness now marring his handsome features. She's seen his scars already, of course, but currently has other reasons for wanting him undressed. Finally he removes the shirt himself and she moves forward hungrily, gently tracing a lazy line around the vicious marks on his abdomen with one finger. Then she ducks her head to kiss the largest scar over his heart and raises her head, arching an eyebrow and silently scolding him for implying Ser Davos was exaggerating. At least he has the grace to look embarrassed at being caught out and it will be interesting to find out the full truth of the matter at some later date but, right now, she's far more interested in kissing the rest of him - just as much of him as she can possibly lay her lips on. Now it's Jon's turn to gasp and her turn to tease him into silence, all the while subtly untying his trousers, now desperate to see him naked.

He doesn't disappoint. He may be short for a warrior, but so well proportioned and muscular, and she winces again at her own tactlessness when talking to Tyrion before flying north. She had dismissed Jon as a common northern lord, a bastard, and far beneath her, but that assessment no longer feels right; not now she's seen his battle skills, not now she's seen his heart. Honestly, it would take little for her to be persuaded to grant him the north and even give him his kingship back except …

Perhaps there is a better solution?

Now it is Daenerys' turn for stillness, happy to just stand admiring him for a while, although Jon doesn't seem as comfortable with his nakedness as she does and she has to admit that his squirming amuses her. With her previous thought still foremost in her mind and with a cheeky smile on her lips, she copies his earlier gesture; going down on one knee and bowing her head.

'Only in private, Jon Snow. Don't you dare get used to it.'

She doesn't want to take her eyes of him for long. Never mind his body, she wants to see his reaction to her bending the knee and the look of total shock on his face is reward enough, never mind the darkness in his eyes which hints at his mounting desire. He may not have sought his various honours but this gesture of hers appears to have really turned him on. Definitely worth taking note for future reference, she decides.

He shakes his head and offers his hands, wanting her back on her feet, but she hadn't finished her game of copy cat yet and raises herself just high enough for her head to reach hip height so she could give him her own intimate kiss in return for his earlier favour. She takes her time, tasting, liking and caressing him until he jumps away from her as if burnt, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. She smirks, fully understanding that this move is purely a chance to collect himself and ensure he lasts a little longer and, indeed, he's soon pulling her back to her feet, again kissing her lips with more of those exceptionally gentle, painfully tantalising touches which drive her wild with desire, whilst his hands trace gentle lines across her breasts. She pulls herself closer, attempting to deepen the kisses but he resists, continuing with the soft, romantic touches despite their current nakedness. Daenarys opens her mouth to scold him, to order him to let himself go, only to find his finger on her lips and a smirk on his own. She glares at him for his teasing, snapping at the offending digit and taking it into her mouth, making quite sure she has his full attention before sucking it slowly and very, very suggestively. His eyes widen, now full of desire and she silently celebrates his reaction, enjoying wielding this sort of power far more than any other she possesses.

Jon growls softly, a glint in his eye as he moves forwards, taking her gently by the shoulders until she's sitting on the side of her bed. Then he drops back down to the floor, opening her knees and kissing her between her legs again and she revels in this brief show of aggression, opening her legs even wider, hoping that, as much as she has enjoyed all of this, he's ready to get more serious.

'Jon.' She tries to resist calling his name out loud, tries to keep in mind just how little privacy these cabins offer, but she's hopelessly lost now, fully consumed by her desire for this beautiful man full of contradictions. When he stands back up, it's still the wild Jon in front of her - hands on the bed as he leans over her - and she takes full advantage of the move, hooking her legs around his hips to put herself in the perfect position for him to enter her. Surely he's had enough of this teasing now?

Not entirely it seems because, although he does then start to slide inside her, it is so slow, so incredibly gentle that she feels like screaming in frustration. And he's giving her that look again, the one that somehow managed to knot her stomach even when he wasn't touching her. Now though he's fully inside her and she gasps, stunned at how close she is to finishing when he's not even moving.

Why isn't he moving?

He's looming over her - eyes now black with desire, lips red from her small bites - and his next kiss is deeper, although still amazingly tender considering their position. Finally he does moves out and then in but it's still slow and again she glares at him, opening her mouth to scold him, and again receives a finger on her lips for her trouble. And that smirk is back, proving that Jon knows exactly what he's doing to her. They don't last long, those sly smiles, always quickly replaced by that look of total adoration ... No, that's not what she's seeing. So, so many men adore her but this is different. This is so much more.

She pushes at his chest whilst simultaneously scooting backwards on the bed, lying down and opening her legs wide to tempt him to lose control. He follows her, scrambling onto the bed but lying next to her, kissing her romantically again, a lazy hand trailing fire down her body; her breasts, her stomach, between her legs. It is all too much. The sexual frustration she can handle but, the way he looks at her, the emotions he manages to evoke? She feels tears sting her eyes and she's not even sure why.

Time to take control, she decides, and now he's lying down it's easy for her to straddle him and show him exactly how good she is at riding. She drops down fairly heavily, hoping to start increasing the speed and find the aggression that she saw in him beyond the Wall. And, for a moment, she has him. His head tilts back, his eyes flutter and she smiles and follows suit, only looking down when she feels his hands on her breasts. She starts to speed up but he's soon moving his hands down to her hips, stilling her before caressing her between her legs. He's obviously determined not to get ahead of her, although that's hardly an issue - she's been close to the edge since the very first touch of his hands on her cheek and, if only he wouldn't keep stopping ...

She tries to move again but he somehow manages to turn them over whilst remaining inside her and then, in the most aggressive move he's employed since he slid the bolt on the cabin door, Jon grabs her wrists and pins them by her head, thrusting hard a few times before pausing and gazing at her yet again.

"Not Dany?"

It's the first words that either of them have properly spoken and she smiles, realising she can now no longer remember anyone else calling her by that name. Now it is only for Jon to use.

"My Dany." It's a low whisper, almost a growl, and totally possessive and then he moves again, not especially quickly but far deeper than before and the soft tremors she's been experiencing turn instantly to a wave of ecstasy. She gasps and tilts her head back, but his hands have let go of her wrists and are now on her face, forcing her to look at him. He wants to see her at the end and she nods gently, desperate to see him too. "My queen," he says and, the emotion in his voice and the look in his eyes prove that he's definitely not talking about swearing fealty this time.

"Jon," she gasps, now fully acknowledging her own feelings for him and where she wants this relationship to end up. "My king."

Outside the ship, flying high above, two dragons roar their approval.

~o~0~o~

A/N: Well ... Game of Thrones! Who would have thought! I've read the books and been a fan of the show from a start and hints in the books plus delicious bts photo-shoots of Kit and Emilia have made me desperate to see the two characters finally meet. And yes, wow, it's been as hot as I'd hoped/expected.

In the end the scene in the show was shorter than I'd hoped although I certainly got all the stuff about Jon pausing in the middle to gaze at her right. (Good grief, Kit!) The show missing out the foreplay and the ending allows this story to sit very close to canon, meaning my vague plans to continue should work well and, from the comments, it seems that people definitely want more. So far, I have an additional two chapters to offer and I've taken the opportunity to include a number of my little head-canons and future predictions.