But First We Live, Daenerys/Jon, NC-17, Warnings: sexualityluna_plathJuly 3 2013, 19:46:19 UTC
Daenerys has known many men in her lifetime. She knows what it feels like to have a man’s attention and she can plainly tell that she does not have Jon’s. In her quarters the map of the known world is laid out on an oaken table, showing Westeros, Essos, Sothoros, the Summer Isles and the Land-Beyond-the-Shadow. He traces the map with his burned hand, searching the lands that have been stamped into the leather
She stands beside him, whiter than snow next to his shock of dark hair and his black cloak. Whether he wears it out of habit or true conviction she isn’t certain. Jon Snow had taken vows, once, as had many others, but winter has worn them all thin and destroyed whatever order they used to belong to.
The cold has claimed more black brothers than she will ever know, from the White Walkers, frostbite, or the allure of peaceful sleep in the virgin snow. They say that thinking is the most difficult when the cold comes, so strong and pure that it freezes everything until, at last, you feel only numbness. She wonders if the frigid temperatures have gotten to his thoughts.
Covering his scarred hand with her own, Daenerys laces her fingers with his, feeling a needle-sharp trail of awareness ghost over her skin. Not cold then.
She stands beside him, whiter than snow next to his shock of dark hair and his black cloak. Whether he wears it out of habit or true conviction she isn’t certain. Jon Snow had taken vows, once, as had many others, but winter has worn them all thin and destroyed whatever order they used to belong to.
The cold has claimed more black brothers than she will ever know, from the White Walkers, frostbite, or the allure of peaceful sleep in the virgin snow. They say that thinking is the most difficult when the cold comes, so strong and pure that it freezes everything until, at last, you feel only numbness. She wonders if the frigid temperatures have gotten to his thoughts.
Covering his scarred hand with her own, Daenerys laces her fingers with his, feeling a needle-sharp trail of awareness ghost over her skin. Not cold then.
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