Chapter 7: Escape

"Jon." The young man glanced back at his father, who viewed him with kind eyes. "Are you coming below? It will be a long voyage, and you'll need your rest for the ride back to Winterfell."

Smiling wanly at his father, Jon shook his head. "I'll be there in a moment, father. Allow me a little more time in the fresh air." The cooling mist took that time to hit his skin, banishing the heat that clung to him thanks to the scorching equatorial sun.

Ned nodded, unwilling to bother Jon as the ship left the harbor. Luckily, they were able to set off with the last of the cargo ships, sailing off into the narrow sea free from any hue and cry Jon and Daenerys' antics could have spelled for them. Gods, he was just like his mother, always getting into trouble. And finding someone who would willingly charge into trouble right alongside him. "Lyanna," he whispered to the sparkling ocean, to the orange-pink skies above. "I pray that I have done right by you today." He gave one last look to Jon before heading belowdecks. There would be plenty to discuss, but the small smirk on Ned's face belied his knowledge of what Jon was likely to do that night.

Staring at the shrinking landmass to his south, the red-orange orb of the sun setting on the right, Jon thought of his beloved. The woman he loved with all his heart. She is here… with me. Gods… What had a lowly bastard done to deserve such divine providence? Jon didn't think he'd ever know.

Jon walked away from the railing, heading down after his father. Towards his rooms. The magnitude of what had happened in Pentos weighed on him. Hitting him like a ton of bricks. Taking on a Prince and the entirety of the Magistrars of the great city - him and Daenerys… It sobered him. Do I truly deserve her?

You don't.

The negative voice inside his head sounded a lot like Lady Catelyn, and Jon was inclined to agree. His feet carried him to her cabin nonetheless. Passing by the Lysene handmaiden, who gave him a knowing wink. Honor be damned, propriety be damned, Jon could not resist Daenerys Targaryen - his weakness, one whose siren call he would always answer. Opening, his mouth dropped. Witnessing the most breathtaking sight.

A gentle wind blew through the porthole, wafting across Dany's face. Hair billowing behind her in a lustrous sheen. It was said that such coloring made Targaryen women the most beautiful in all the world. Jon certainly thought so, given how he looked at her - those grey eyes near black with desire. Ghost relaxed on the bunk beside her, Dany's fingers gently stroking his fur. A contented smile passed over her face for but a moment, thinking of the handsome face of her wolf.

"Daenerys."

Turning at the husky northern brogue, a smile spread wide over her face. "There you are, my wolf."

There was only a split second hesitation before Daenerys rushed into Jon's arms. The young lovers embracing tightly, Jon's face buried in her hair and Dany kissing the crook of his neck. Savoring the other's warmth. "I can't believe you're here," he whispered, kissing the silver locks he had fallen in love with.

"Me neither." She pulled him ever tighter, savoring the contact as an indescribable need. "It feels like a dream."

"Aye." Realization dawned on him. It was not something he was certain of, but more an educated guess. "Father won't let you stay in the north. The King is coming."

An errant tear fell from Dany's cheek. "I know. He'll kill me on sight. And too many northerners hate me for what my father did." Even if Ned Stark gave orders for them to ignore Dany, only one yapping would spell doom - every sellsword from Dorne to the Twins would be after her. And she couldn't hide, for the purple eyes were a dead giveaway.

Ironic. Sansa talked so much about star crossed lovers… and I'm living her stories. "I could run away with you. I could…"

"If the Usurper knows the bastard son of Eddard Stark is with the Targaryen Princess, your family will die, Jon." There was no getting around it. Perhaps if Robert was dead, or if Daenerys had an army… "But let's not think about it, my wolf. We have more time, and I intend to make the most of it.

Pulling back, smiling widely at her, Jon kissed her. Feeling Dany lose herself into the kiss. He had never felt so happy in his entire life than when he was with her. "Wait, Dany. I have something for you."

Daenerys watched as he went to his rucksack - pulling out a sword. Her eyes widened. "Jon…"

The blade was curved, an elegant length with a black sharkskin grip and ruby pommel - colors of her house. "I was going to give it to you as a wedding gift, to remember me by. But now I can give it to you personally." Jon presented it to her. "It is a katana, my love, favored by the Yi Ti... beyond the Red Waste." He reached out, guiding Dany's hand along the smooth blade - sparks shot out from where they touched, Jon noticing her struggling to remain composed. Their eyes locked, love relayed through to the other.

Fluid, easy for her to handle, Daenerys was on the verge of tears. Her wolf knew how much their sessions meant to her, and purchased a weapon he personally selected that was perfect for her to handle. She wanted to kiss those wonderful lips of his, Jon staring at her in a similar manner. The sexual tension between them could have been cut with a knife.

But suddenly she noticed something. "Jon…" The rippling of the steel, the smokey blade. Even she knew what this was. "This is Valyrian Steel," Dany murmured. The young bastard only nodded. "No one parts from Valyrian Steel, who gave it to you?"

Jon sighed. "A woman… Kinvara, I think her name was. She just gave it to me in an alleyway in the market, said it was for a night of terrors or something. I… I don't know why, just that you deserve this sword."

"No, it should be yours…"

Hand on her cheek stilling her, Jon merely smiled at her. "Dany, I want you to have it."

Tears clouding her vision, Dany embraced him. Kissing him hard, unable to stop as she greedily took what she needed. This man is already everything to me. At that moment, she resolved that no matter what, she would fight so they could be together. By each other's side without fear. She was the blood of the dragon, able to conquer anything.

Blood of the dragon.

She broke the kiss. "Jon, come here. I have something to show you." Leading him to her bed, Dany pulled out the sack that contained the dragon eggs. Black, green, cream. "I don't know if you noticed them, with all that was happening.

Jon watched over them in awe. Admiring the beautiful scales, the intricate swirls. "They are breathtaking."

"I agree," clutching the black one. Bringing the hard scales to her cheek. Holding it as one would a baby. "Balerion," she murmured.

"Hmmmm?" He was too busy admiring the green dappled egg to hear her.

"Balerion. This is what I would name this egg if it was alive."

He nodded. "Black Dread, nice." Jon motioned to the cream egg. "And that one?"

She ran her hand on it, caressing the white scales. "As white as snow… the snows of the North. I shall name it Edderon. After the man that gave me the one I love."

Smiling, so in love with her, Jon leaned to kiss her forehead. "And the last?" Hefting the green egg in his arms.

This, Dany had to put some thought into it. But only one name stood out. "Rhaegal, after the brother I never knew."

"Rhaegal." Brushing his hands against it, Jon felt a stirring inside. A warmth he couldn't describe. "I… I like it." Setting the egg on the side with the other's, he pulled Dany into his arms. "I love you, my dragon."

"And I you, my wolf." They kissed, slow at first, but which rapidly grew into a raging inferno. Clothes melting off their young bodies and a now nude Dany ending up pushed flat onto the bed, Jon atop her - equally nude.

Dany was panting below him, breathless from her lover's skill. "Gods, you're amazing." Moaning as his throbbing member, guided it to her wet heat. Coaxing a hiss from him. Dany's mouth hung open, barely able to form words. She hadn't had anyone else, but knew sex with Jon was truly wonderful… the best. Seven hells, no one could compare.

Eyes shut tightly, Jon forced himself to rock into her. Length sensitive as it pounded Daenerys hard. Her walls clenched like a vice on his length, almost making him come then and there. A goddess. Legs wrapping around him, Jon knew Dany had ruined him for others. There is no one other than her. She had captured his heart, Jon giving it to her willingly.

Biting her lip, Dany groaned as he began thrusting harder. Hands digging into his shoulders, muscles feeling warm against her skin. One of Jon's hands drifted to cup a breast, circling and teasing her nipples to add to her pleasure. She rocked up into him, pumping her hips. "Jon," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Harder." He obeyed, causing her to scream and bite his shoulder.

Jon snarled at her assault on his collarbone, eyes fogging over with a frenzied lust. Driving him faster. Harder. A side of him he had never before known until the night before. Seeing red, he had been ready to rend Viserys in two for harming his Dany, and now he saw red again, guided by an irresistible impulse to make the Valyrian goddess before him shatter with pleasure. "Mine." Jon's voice was dark, almost feral. "You are mine!"

"Yours, all yours," she cooed, reaching behind her with her arm to pull him down. Mouths colliding in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, using each other's lips and tongues to drown out the moans. Daenerys, sucking on his tongue as he pounded in and out in a frenzied place. Dragonfire danced in her vision. Screaming into his mouth as her walls clenched violently.

Fuck…! Jon was soon behind, spilling his seed deep into her warmth.

She felt him collapse on top of her, sweat clinging to their bodies as Jon softly stroked her sides. Trembling in the aftershocks. "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered breathlessly. They rested in each other's arms, breathing deeply. Savoring the feeling of being together. "Jon…" Dany said languidly, snuggling deeper into his side. "This is my first ever time in Westeros since my birth."

Jon chuckled. "My trip to Pentos was the first time I was out of the North, other than my birth. It's uncanny how similar we are."

"You're right, it is." She kissed his chest, hand brushing against the hard planes of his stomach. "I'm glad I won't be truly alone when I arrive. That I have you by my side."

Leaning down, brushing his lips against hers. "It is a feeling that I will always treasure, my dragon." Expertly flipping her over, his look of love turned into one of mischievous lust. "And now something I've always wanted to do." Without another word, he shimmied down her body.

"What are you… ahhhh!" Dany gasped as Jon's tongue began lapping at her folds. A sensation she had never experienced, but now needed. "Oh gods…" Her fingers weaved into his curly locks. "Don't stop…"

Grinning, Jon buried his tongue deeper inside her. Not intending to stop any time soon.

"That's it Joffrey, swing left," came the guttural growl of King Robert of House Baratheon. His meaty paws clutched a chicken drumstick, enjoying his considerable lunch outside on the sunny Riverlands day. "Catch him off balance!"

The golden-haired prince slashed with the wooden trainer, chafing at his mother's insistence on the generally harmless weapon over his brand-new sword gifted to him by his uncle Renly on his last name day. His personal guard and instructor, Ser Sandor "The Hound" Clegane, was skilled enough to dumb down his swordsmanship for the boy - but there was no getting past Queen Cersei and her overprotective devotion. It drove King Robert to distraction, and irritated Joffrey in this instance.

"Careful!" the aforementioned queen, locks as golden as her beloved son, shouted as the Hound skillfully parried the sloppy blow his ward sent at him. "Careful with my sweetling."

A belch resounded from the King's stomach. "Seven Hells, woman. The boy needs to man up! Do as you were taught, lad. I'll make a Baratheon out of you yet." His house was populated with powerful warriors, both him and his two brothers some of the most skilled in the Seven Kingdoms. "Slice his arm off! Defend your house and your honor!"

After yet another parry was dispatched, Joffrey snarled and charged at the Hound. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, the burn-scarred knight sidestepped his Prince, watching him trip over his feet and stumble to the ground. Elbow outstretched, it slammed against a stone resting in the grass.

Pain shot through Joffrey's arm, a sharp stab that had him curled into a ball and clutching the wounded arm. "Ahhhh!" Heads turned across the entire encampment, their Prince's cries not an uncommon sound for them.

Cersei was out of her seat almost immediately, skirts fluttering as she rushed toward her fallen boy. "Joffrey! My sweetling." Kneeling, she cared not that the dirt soiled the expensive silk. "Call a maester! The Prince is injured!"

Belly jostling, the King lurched from his bench and made his way to the two of them. "Let me 'ave a looks see." Once trim and powerful, the man that defeated the great Rhaegar Targaryen with his mighty warhammer, the now King waddled across the ground with the grace of a southern penguin - or rather the lack of it. It was a sorry sight. Roughly yanking his son and heir off the ground, blue eyes narrowed as they inspected Joffrey's injury. "Gods! What in the name of the Warrior is this?" Robert's mouth contorted in disgust and embarrassment. "You call this an injury?"

Smacking the affected elbow, Joffrey cried in pain from the sting. His father wasn't known for his consideration or empathy. "Father, please. It hurts!"

"'Father, please. It hurts,'" the King mocked in a falsetto. "Stop whining like a woman. Get back to your tent, compose yourself like a man, and get back here and do it again! No food until you do!" Shaking his head in annoyance, his glare rested on his Queen and wife - though the last time they shared a bed escaped his memory. "And don't even think about disobeying my command, lionspawn. That boy takes too much after you for his own good!" Grumbling, he plopped down and resumed his lunch, too apathetic to notice the death glare Cersei sent his way.

Boots squelching through the mud, Joffrey fought back tears as he hurried to his tent. The Hound followed right behind, ever the loyal guard. "Your grace, I didn't intend to let you…"

"Stuff it, Hound, if you know what's good for you!" snarled the Prince, flinging the curtains back to the yellow-black tent. Rolling his eyes once more, Sandor muttered exactly what he thought of his ward before heading to grab some stew.

Breathing hard, Joffrey stared at what possessions he had. The sharp blade rested on the table, hilt encrusted with gold and steel polished enough to gleam. "Fucking Northerners! Fucking Hound!" Unsheathing the sword in a blind rage, Joffrey swung it down at the table, slicing it in two. "Fucking father!" Angered screams echoed through the tent, the blonde-haired boy venting his frustration out on the furniture.

Ser Barristan entered, hand on the hilt of his sword. "What is going on…"

Joffrey wheeled around, anger in his green eyes. "You, insect! Get out if you know what's good for you!"

Insolent little… But the insult was forced to go unanswered. "Yes, my Prince." He bowed and left, muttering obscenities. I should have died with Rhaegar.

"I'll show them!" A mirror found itself shattering, Joffrey disgusted with the weak boy staring back at him. "I will be the strongest, most powerful King in history!" His enemies would rot, his father choking on his words. "He will see! They will all see!"

Hearing the merry chirping of birds all around him, Ned wore a bright smile on his face as he, Jon, and the other Stark Household Guards that accompanied him to Pentos passed under the Winterfell gate. It hadn't been winter for years, but for him it always was a bit of a shock to see the north so vibrant and full of life. After listening to the tales and perceptions of many others from across the world, his home had the reputation of being rather bleak and lifeless - when it was anything but. From how wide-eyed and observant his new charge was at the wonders of the countryside and White Harbor, he couldn't help but puff up his chest a little for his native land.

All only increased as he was greeted by his family. Catelyn embracing him tightly while his children came close to mobbing him. All seemed right in the world - but Ned was no fool. The unspoken worry still hung on his mind. "When will Robert be arriving?" he asked his lady wife.

Catelyn only nodded. "His latest raven had him leaving the Twins. At the rate they are going, probably three weeks." Fast riders could probably make it in less than one, but a royal procession wouldn't have such speed - especially Robert. The man wasn't in a hurry to do anything but fight and fuck.

"Good." He had time. "In preparation for his visit I hired two servants in Pentos to help us. One is half-Dothraki while the other is…" Ned thought for a moment. "From Lys." If anyone noticed Daenerys' Valyrian features, they could excuse it as Lysene - the silver hair was another matter entirely, but hair dye fixed that problem. "Would you see that Nan gets them set up with quarters in the servant's section?"

"Of course, Lord husband," his wife replied. If she was confused by the situation, she did not show it.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Ned turned his attention to Jon. He seems lighter, more confident. Ned would have been an idiot not to know why - on top of being young lovers, their connection was overpowering. As if the two couldn't be away from each other for any length of time. Just like Lyanna. Wolves and dragons were passionate, mating for life. Can't resist the allure of each other. Sparing one last glance at the lad, Ned smiled to himself and entered the keep. The prospect of a warm bath sounding wonderful to him.

Free from her mother's watchful eye, the first thing Arya had done was run into Jon's arms. Leaping up and wrapping her arms and legs around him. "I missed you, big brother," she breathed tightly.

"Ooof… I can see that, Arya," Jon chuckled, squeezing the feisty little girl tightly. In the corner of his eye, he could see the hooded figure of Daenerys watching him, wide smile on her face.

"Tell me all about Pentos… did you see the Golden Company? Did the Captain General really have Blackfyre on his hip?" Arya sounded like a kid that captured a plate of pastries.

Letting her out of his arms, Jon ruffled her hair. "No, I didn't see them." Arya's face fell. "I will tell you of everything else tonight, after dinner." Face lighting up again, she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek - even still, Jon had to bend down - before running back into the keep.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Jon turned to find Sansa. Wordlessly, the red-haired young beauty pulled him into a hug. Initially shocked, Jon quickly returned it - his heart swelling that the one sibling who adopted Lady Stark's attitude finally giving him the loving affection the others did. "I'm glad you're home, brother," she said simply, smiling before heading in the same direction as Arya.

Before Jon could ponder it, his older brother drew his attention. "The southern sun agrees with you, Jon," Robb chuckled, punching his brother's shoulder playfully. "Adds a nice tan to your skin."

"That's what happens on the open ocean," Theon Greyjoy said, combing his hair with his hands. "It's why the Iron Islands breed strong, virulent warriors. The majesty of the waves."

Jon rolled his eyes. A month away hadn't changed Theon worth a damn. "Is that right? Then why are you here? Or Stannis Baratheon alive?" Theon's smirk quickly changed into a scowl, deeper after Robb joined in the laughter. Enjoying putting the arrogant shit down, Jon winced, thinking of old Nan gripping his chin in a vice of bony fingers to shave him dry. "I still don't see the point of that."

"All of us endured this, Jon," Robb responded. "Mother wants us pretty for the King and Queen, and I'm not going to let you weasel your way out of it like you did everything else while you were gone." There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Worked well for me, I got so much ass in Wintertown with this haircut." Strutting around the room, Theon's smugness was overbearing. "Wish you could have seen it, bastard." He winked and left the room.

Jon rolled his eyes, left alone with Robb in the courtyard, few people around them - none in earshot. "Well, Theon's just as much of an ass as he always was." The memory of the Iron Islander almost killing the pups came to mind.

"Aye, he is." Robb furrowed his brows. "You didn't brood and shy away when he bragged about his exaggerated prowess." 'Damn,' Jon thought, but his brother was already on the scent. "Did you meet a girl in Essos?" The raven-haired lad's silence said it all. Robb laughed merrily. "Well good for you," he said, slapping him on the back. "Who was it? The Targaryen princess?" Tone indicating it was a joke, the smile fell a bit at Jon's continued silence. "Was it?"

Jon's eyes quickly flickered to Dany. Cloak pulled high over her face as old Nan ordered her and Doreah to the 'special' servant accommodations Ned had instructed to be for them, he couldn't betray her to Robb. Not while her safety hung on the line. "Whatever happened, there is no future to it."

Not a lie.

That's what made it so painful.

Jon hadn't been home an hour before Septa Mordane had swept him up. Ordering him to help the stableboys unshoe the horses, and bring them to the stables for feeding and watering. Gathering his father was already in the keep and out of reach, Jon just sighed and went to his duty. The life of a bastard never changes. He could count on his fingers the number of people who treated him as the Lord's son rather than as a waste of space.

Walking down the halls three hours later, freshly bathed after Arya insisted he use her hot water to wash away the stink - probably to scandalize Lady Stark as much as helping him out - Jon thought that he could count on one finger someone who treated him as more than even Eddard Stark's son. Someone that made him feel like a man greater than the most august, powerful king. Daenerys… Dany. Doreah, already settling in as a kitchenhand, told him where to find her deep in the servant's quarters of the keep. And there he was, knuckles rapping on the door. Ready to see his beloved again.

The door opened and there she was. Clad in a sleeping shift, grey and baggy over her body - she looked breathtaking. "Jon," she beamed. "I was worried you wouldn't come."

"Nothing could keep me away from you, my dragon."

Neither of them knew who kissed the other first. Time whizzed by, the two of them finding themselves falling upon her bed, clothes clawed off and lips locked in a frenzied struggle. "Dany… I missed you…"

She gasped, being from the pure need in his voice or the insistent trail his lips and tongue blazed upon her neck. Or both. "Jon…" Daenerys didn't complain, wrapping her nude limbs around his neck and hips. Their bodies were entertained, the young lovers needing to be as close as possible. "Don't stop," Dany begged just as their lips found each other once more.

Still kissing, Jon found himself rolled onto his back. Daenerys falling onto him in a soft heap, sultry grin on her face - nipples digging into his own chest. He groaned at the intense sensation. Addicted to her, the breathtaking Valyrian beauty that by some divine providence wanted him - desired him - he lunged at the creamy flesh. Surprising her as his lips assaulted the ample breasts dangling deliciously above.

"Fuck," Daenerys murmured as Jon latched his mouth to her nipple. Teeth sucked in on her lower lip at how deliriously good he felt. Jon's tongue laved the rose tip desperately, it being so hard to push him away. But do it she did, pinning his arms above his head. Surprise in his widened grey eyes. Eyes that combined with his raven curls to make her mouth water. "I rule you tonight, Jon Snow."

Jon gulped. Her normally soft touch was firm upon him, powerful and fiery. Hard as Valyrian steel, Dany seemed to notice and ground her naked core against his length, making him groan again. "You are amazing… a goddess." The way she hovered above, staring at him with barely disguised lust, it sent chills down his spine.

Grinning at his speechlessness, Dany licked a single trail down his gorgeous, muscular body. Down his chest, along his taut stomach. Staring with hunger, Dany watched his length intently. Dying to at long last enjoy something she had only heard Doreah talk about. "Do you want it, my love?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

Hand weaving into her silver hair with a persistent grip, Jon guided her down. "I need it."

That was enough for her. Grinning like mad, she brought her tongue down from the tip to the base, and then back up. Slow, sensual, and coaxing a hiss from him. "Gods, you are perfect, Jon Snow. And mine." Mouth opening in a wide 'O,' she took all of him. Saliva slurping as she attacked his member.

Gritting his teeth, eyes fluttering closed, Jon thought he had to be in the afterlife. His fingers tugged insistently on Dany's hair, pushing her firmer or trying to hold her back when her mouth skimmed over a rather sensitive spot. Theon and Robb would often complain how many women would hurt with their teeth, but Daenerys was just perfect. "Ahhh," he was close… and wanted to finish inside her. Pulling hard, her mouth let him go with a pop. "Please Dany," he whispered. "Inside you."

Daenerys nodded breathlessly, cupping her breast with one hand while the other grabbed his length. Lining him up at her entrance. "Do you want me, Jon?" Her mind was fogged right now, tingling with the electricity of her arousal. "I want you." At his nod, she lowered onto his cock. Impaling herself on him, letting out a long mewl at how good it felt.

Clenching his teeth, Jon hit up into her. Pushing through the vice her walls had around him. Prying his eyes open, he stared in wonder at the moaning form above him. "You are, Gods... So beautiful. A goddess."

Her hips matching him thrust for thrust, Daenerys could barely keep from screaming his name. No one had ever cared for her so deeply - Jon Snow made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Feeling the pressure building inside her, Dany locked eyes with his stormy greys. Love comes in at the eyes. She lunged down and crashed their lips in a hungry kiss.

Sensations ripping through him, Jon shuddered as she melted around him, inner walls milking him hard. He could barely push through the tightness. "Fuck, gods! Dany!" Eyes fluttered shut - seed spilling inside her.

Completely spent, Dany slid off so she was resting against his side. She placed feather light kisses upon Jon's hard chest. Sighing contentedly, she nuzzled her nose into him.

Jon pressed a kiss on her head. "Welcome to Winterfell, Dany."

Eyes watering, Dany pressed herself to his skin as close as she could. "I'm glad to be here, Jon I love you."

"I love you too."