A/N: I am so sorry for the super late update! I hope this chapter makes up for it.

Please review! :D

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sunlight streamed through the curtains of the royal apartments of Maegor's Holdfast, coaxing Princess Daenerys from her slumber. Eyes fluttering open, she felt herself curled around something warm. Head resting against the most comfortable pillow one could ever feel. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but immediately a smile stretched upon her lips. Seeing the handsome form of her lover that had spent the night with her. "Jon…" There was a fear in the back of her mind that he'd be discovered, but Dany put it aside. The Unsullied and her personal servants were completely loyal to her, and Aerys never left his own chambers adjacent to the throne room lest here was someone he wanted to scream at. They were safe, and Dany was going to enjoy her morning with her lover. All others be damned.

Wordlessly, she cuddled closer to him - inhaling his sharp winter scent. Sleep had come rather easily for Daenerys that night. Being close to Jon, wrapped in his arms, it made her feel safe. As if… this was where she was destined to be. She thought that Daario might have been someone that she could have eventually have grown to love, but she now realized that it was nothing but infatuation. Watching as he slowly awoke, stress lines evaporating in his sleep, She knew in her heart that this was different. That somehow, for some reason - be it fate - Dany was falling for this man.

"Good morning," he offered sleepily.

Smiling, Dany leaned down to press a chaste kiss on his lips. "Good morning."

As Jon looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms, he felt a couple of tears slide down his face. He couldn't help but think of the woman he used to love, Ygritte, of how she cared for him and made him feel not so alone. But then she was gone, stolen away from him, leaving his heart open and wounded. He would move on, finding his way back with both his cause and his growing affection and - dare he say - love with the breathtaking Daenerys Targaryen, but Jon knew that Ygritte would always be his first love. The memories of her would always remain with him.

SEVEN MONTHS PREVIOUS

There was a small hut located at the edge of Mole's Town, miles from Castle Black in a forested portion of Brandon's Gift. Inside, sitting by a crackling fire rested a man with disheveled hair, wielding a sword in hand. He looked at the blade, which had been recently sharpened if the whetstone at his feet said anything. Lips set in a hard line, it was clear that the man was out for blood and vengeance… there had been too many nights where he had spent crying over the death of the woman he held complete adoration for. She had been taken from him far too soon, and the person who had taken her life was about to learn the hard way what happened when one intervened with true love.

All remembered the tale of Daeron II and his half-brother Daemon Blackfyre. The former denied the latter the love of their sister, the first Princess Daenerys. The latter made the realm bleed for decades as a result. Inspecting his blade with a keen eye, the man didn't care about the realm. But someone would indeed bleed.

Footsteps were heard at the entrance of the hut, somewhat loud at first, then became quiet.

"Who are you?" a voice asked. The man just stared at the wall, keeping a tight grasp on his sword.

"I'm the person that let her go," he said, looking over at a bow that was hanging on one of the hut's walls. "It was the worst decision I ever made. I thought she deserved someone far more gallant than I. I thought that person might have been you, but it turns out I was wrong." The other person, face that of a fleshy rat, grabbed ahold of a fireplace poker - made of the strongest castle-forged steel in King's Landing - and held it close to him. "You have wronged me. I have spent months trying to get over what happened to her, but I realized that it will never happen. You took the love of my life away from me, and I'm here to avenge her death, to bring myself the closure I've been waiting for."

The man stood up and immediately tightened his grasp on his sword, swinging it in front of him, watching rat-face react by thrusting the fireplace poker. The sounds of groaning, screaming, and metal hitting metal were heard as the twosome continued fighting.

Rat-face was soon pinned against one of the hut's walls, a sword driven through their stomach and impaling them to the wall.

"My name is Jon," the man said angrily. "You murdered Ygritte, Free Folk from the True North, and I hope the gods punish you, Rast."

Jon pulled out his sword and stabbed Rast in the heart, instantly killing him. Seeing the man who had killed Ygritte dead brought Jon a sense of closure.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he said, looking at her bow. "I'm sorry that I couldn't stop him from taking your life. But now, you can know that the man who killed you is dead. We can both be at peace. I'll see you in the afterlife, my love."

Jon looked at the bow one last time, then left the hut and headed off into the forest, towards Castle Black.

PRESENT DAY

"Jon," a voice called. Initially faint, but growing louder. "Jon. Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes to see Daenerys looking at him with concern. "Did I fall asleep again?"

The Princess nodded. Both of them were… gloriously naked, but their minds were for once distracted by other matters. "You started whimpering in your sleep. What was wrong?"

"I'm alright," he replied, waving her off. "Just thinking of something."

"Want to talk about it?"

Jon sighed. "If I brought up my former… well, late lover, would it bother you?"

Daenerys quirked up an eyebrow. "Perhaps? I don't know anything about her." There was a slight flash of jealousy… until she remembered how he said she was his 'late lover.'

"Before I met you, I was involved with a wildling." Instinctively, Jon drew her closer. Needing her flush against him to get through this. "Her name was Ygritte, and at the time, she was my whole life."

"And I thought the Night's Watch was sworn away from women… though I know now how you're so good at this," she grinned softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Smiling, Jon appreciated her actions. "Our vows are not to take wives or father children… having a lover isn't such, so doesn't technically violate our oaths."

"Clever lover," Dany quipped.

He let his head fall back onto the pillow, stroking her bare back absentmindedly. "I was nothing but a bastard, and she gave me hope and something to look forward to every day. However, one day, she was brutally murdered and I had no idea who committed the horrible crime. When I found out, I killed them to bring me closure." What he didn't say was that he still wasn't free of the grief and loss…

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jon." Dany held him tighter. "I can tell that she meant a lot to you."

"Before I met you, she was my everything," Jon breathed, voice heavy. Grounding himself by kissing the crown of her head. "But now...I feel like my life has a purpose again." He shifted his lips to hers, pushing his tongue inside her mouth possessively.

A moan escaped Dany as she kissed him back, cupping his cheek and running her fingers through his soft, dark hair. "Jon…"

"Fuck, you're breathtaking," he moaned against her lips, running his tongue along her milky skin down her neck. "How did I get so lucky with you?"

"Ahhh…" she moaned, baring more of her neck so that he could have more access. "I don't know - how'd I get lucky?" Daenerys asked breathlessly, hand snaking down to wrap around his throbbing cock. Gods… he had nothing to worry about in that department.

"I need to fuck you. Please."

"Please do."

He positioned himself between her legs and thrust inside her, filling her up completely and causing her to gasp in pleasure.

"Jon, gods, please!" she cried out, digging her nails into his back. He hissed in pleasure at the feeling of his lover's nails on his skin as he sucked on her earlobe.

THE NEXT DAY

"Jon," Melisandre said to her employee. "I just saw the vision of our next person in trouble. I have been given a name...Alayne. I have no idea what is going to happen to her, but from what I can tell, something is going to happen within the next few hours. Alayne appears to be in King's Landing, but where, I don't know." She sent a prayer up to the Lord of Light, asking him to show Alayne's image in the flames again so that Jon could see who he had to help. When he saw her red hair, he recognized her immediately.

"I know this woman...this is Sansa Stark. My half-sister that I grew up with in Winterfell." They were never very close, mostly due to Lady Stark's put downs - though by the time he went to the wall, they had forged a bit of a cordial relationship. She was his blood and he cared for her deeply. "But who would want to harm her?"

"I don't know," Melisandre confessed. "But you and I need to go and find her before it's too late."

It took several hours for Jon and Melisandre to locate his half-sister, ultimately having to utilize the help of Gendry in combing through the dense buildings and winding alleys off the street of silk. Sweat and grime drenched them through the almost equatorial heat of the summer's day, but eventually they found the landmarks seen in the flames.

And once a young woman with fire red hair pulled back underneath a headscarf emerged from one building… her blue eyes met Jon's, widening. "Jon?" Her voice was hesitant, genuinely disbelieving.

He smiled. Aside from Dany, his family meant everything to him and she was the first of them he'd seen in years. "Sansa." Without hesitation he swept forward and pulled her into his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Sansa replied, her voice not the lighthearted muse of a girl dreaming of a dashing prince. Instead, it was hardened. Harsh. It truly worried him.

Before either could respond, Melisandre stepped forward. "There's no time to chat at this point. Someone is after you, Lady Stark, and we can inquire about who and why once we get you to safety.

Sansa raised a brow skeptically, but at the earnestness in her brother's expression, she took the warning to heart. Jon was many things, but not a liar. Even when she had hated him as her mother wanted, Sansa never found him dishonest.

"Melisandre, I want you to stay behind and keep an eye out for anything that looks out of the ordinary. If anything looks suspicious, go into hiding and wait until the danger has passed. I am going to get Sansa out of here and to a safe place. I know where to meet you," Jon said. Sansa followed her half-brother outside while Melisandre hid inside the blacksmith's shop behind a large collection of anvils. As she paused to catch her breath, the familiar feel of a sharp point was on the back of her neck.

"Come out from behind there," a voice ordered. "And do it quickly."

Melisandre raised her hands in surrender and as she turned around, she came face-to-face with someone she didn't know.

"Who...who are you?" Melisandre asked.

"You're Melisandre, I presume," said a gruff, masculine voice. "I've been following you around for a while now."

"I'm going to ask you again. Who are you?"

He chuckled from under a hood. "If you must know, I'm the guy that wants to fuck your cunt and ass till I split you in half before I slit your throat, and you are going to come with me."

"What do you want with me?"

"You. I found that secret little warehouse of yours and discovered what lies inside. Imagine what people would do if they knew what you did behind closed doors. The amount of money that they would pay to see the things you see." But suddenly, the man was cut off from speaking.

Melisandre gasped in horror as her acquaintance was brutally stabbed in the neck by a hooded figure. The sword was soon dripping in fresh red blood, drops hitting the freshly fallen snow, turning it from white to a pinkish-red color.

"I'd thought he'd have shut up by now," a feminine voice replied without any emotion. "He spoke too much."

Melisandre was frozen in place as the hooded figure raised their hands and pulled their hood back, exposing fire-red hair. The figure looked up and Melisandre gasped at the person's revelation.

"Sansa?"

The eldest Stark daughter smiled and pointed the sword's tip at Melisandre's throat. "You can call me Fire Lady."