Chapter Text
Daenerys watched his face as it changed. His furrowed eyebrows raising in surprise. His eyes widening. His mouth opening infinitesimally. The picture of shock before he shut down. His facial expressions masked as his eyes screamed for help. Daenerys licked her lips, her hands fumbling with each other as she tried to keep her composure.
“Do you have anything to say?” She tilted her head as a sign of encouragement.
He shook his head. Almost as if he were physically trying to clear it.
“Jon?” She tried again, keeping an eye on his clenched fist.
“With child?” His eyes dropped to her abdomen as they had when she’d first mentioned her conception issues.
“I know what I said. It’s a shock for both of us. I never thought-” Her voice broke as she inhaled a ragged breath.
Jon watched carefully as her façade melted away. Her hand shook as she timidly placed it on her stomach. She looked vulnerable, scared, and incredibly young. Maybe too young for all the life that she had already lived.
Aren’t we all? Jon asked himself as he exhaled in frustration, running his hand over his face. How could he have done this to her? How could he have done this to their future child? He knew better.
“I don’t want your apologies, Daenerys.” He exhaled, firmly. “It is I that should be begging for your forgiveness.”
He could see the confusion on her face.
“Jon-”
“We knew…I knew it was a possibility.” He ran his hands over his face and began to pace.
Daenerys observed him as he muttered and paced the length of the room with no inkling of what to say to make him feel better. What could she say? He had already refused the apologies that were prepared to pour out of her mouth profusely. A blanket of guilt settled over her the longer she watched him. She had been positive that she would never be called the mother of anything but dragons. And yet…maybe she wouldn’t. The worry she previously felt was back, eating away at the guilt she carried. Forcing Jon into unexpected fatherhood was one thing but what she feared most was his acceptance only to have it crushed by a son that would never outgrow his mother’s womb. Her hands clutched at her abdomen a little tighter. Even the love and loyalty of Jon Snow could not coax a flower from the barren wasteland inside of her.
“Stop pacing!” She startled herself at the tone she was using.
He stopped at once, looking upon her with guilt and sorrow. His eyes darted back and forth from her wet eyes to where her hands laid across her stomach.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed, taking a step closer.
“Stop apologizing!”
“I don’t know what else to say. I never wanted this and I’m sure you never thought that your life would play out like this either.”
Daenerys let out an affronted gasp. Tyrion worked with her constantly to temper this side of her. The Targaryen blood that flared up in an instant and caused her to lash out until she’d calmed.
'Count to 10. Count to 100 if you have to…just stop for a moment before you decide to burn innocent people alive or alienate those who want to help you.’
She kept counting until the steam clouding her head dissipated minutely and it was enough for her to hear the remainder of Jon’s tirade before she could explode into her own.
“-what would he be called?” He paced the width of the room again, shouting more at himself than at her. Still, he faced her with crazy eyes that were wide with panic like he wanted her to answer. “I refuse to have my son crowned the next Bastard of Winterfell. So, then what? Would he be a ‘Storm’? Bastard of another name? Maybe ‘Waters’ since his mother will sit on the Iron Throne-”
Dany’s laughter stopped him abruptly. It was harsh and condescending.
“Is that what you’re worried about? That it’ll be a bastard?”
It was Jon’s turn to look affronted.
“I swore I’d never father a bastard child.” He shook his head as he spoke in near whispers. “It’s not a gift any child wants.”
“Of all the things you could be worried about! It doesn’t matter whether we’ll even be alive to raise this child after we storm King's Landing or whether we'll make good parents or not. We don’t even know if I can carry a child to term!” Her voice broke as she got louder.
There it was again. That vulnerability that made Jon’s chest ache for her.
“It’s just a name. I don’t want to hear any more about it.” She then turned her back to him in dismissal.
Jon didn’t know whether he was more offended by the way she ignored his reservations; or, by the way she turned her back to him as if he were a mere subject and they were not having the most intimate, life changing conversation he could imagine. He took a few shallow breaths before he spoke.
There were times when he watched Daenerys. Her eyes would flicker and he could almost see the dragon’s blood roiling. He knew her tells and could recognize when she was trying to calm herself down. More often than she would like to admit, she lost the fight between reason and anger. The Targaryen fire boiling over and showcasing itself without warning or boundaries. Jon could not recognize it in himself until his true parentage was revealed. He rarely lost his temper. A Stark through and through. Yet, there were moments when flames singed at the edges of reason. Could he douse them before he was engulfed? He heard her facetious chuckle once more. He looked on as she walked away from him. He took another breath, exhaling from his nostrils.
‘It’s just a name.’
And then he exploded.
Daenerys jumped in fright, spinning around to face him.
“I beg your pardon?” Her eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief at his outburst.
“You heard what I said. That’s bullshit, Daenerys.”
Her jaw tightened as he repeated himself.
“You’ll watch the way you address your Queen or you’ll find yourself wishing that you had.”
“Oh, lay off it, Dany. You can’t hide behind your titles...not this time.” He felt his legs carry him in a circle like he could walk out the fire inside him. “You can’t pretend that my entire life wouldn’t have been different if I’d been a Stark…or even a Targaryen for that matter.”
“Jon.” She tried, her voice firm and teetering on the edge of restraint.
He came to a stop upon hearing her voice. Squaring off with her.
Daenerys knew better than anyone that once the spark ignited into a flame, it was hard to stop and impossible to control. It needed to burn out on its own.
“Don’t.” His voice was low and gravelly; a large contrast to the yelling he’d been doing.
“Jon, it’s-”
“Don’t try to placate me like you don’t add twenty worthless names behind your given one to make yourself seem more important.”
And that was it. He fizzled out. His chest deflating and shoulders dropping. She noticed that he upheld his defensive posture, though. He knew where the line was and understood he’d soared over it. The accusation hung heavily in the air and he immediately wanted to apologize. Guilt took over the ashes that settled within him as he watched her chest rise and fall rapidly beneath her coat. An ardent apology was on the tip of his tongue when the door flung open. Still, they held each other’s gaze, refusing to look away from one another.
“Your Grace?”
Tyrion stepped into the room, closing the door behind him as his eyes darted between the lovers.
“The Unsullied were moments away from tearing down the door in fear of your safety. I’m sure that whatever issue you have with Jon Snow can be solved amicably…at a lower volume…and preferably without fire.”
Jon thought about why he was really angry with Daenerys. All he could think about were the men that spat ‘bastard’ at him as if it were a disease. He felt nothing but betrayal at the way she invalidated his lifelong pain in four words. Red blurred his vision as he continued to stare her down.
“Please, don’t all speak at once. It’ll be difficult to understand you.” Tyrion probed.
Jon sighed, his eyes finally shifting to the advisor before they landed back on Dany. Did her Hand already know? Was this news that they were sharing? He opened his mouth but Daenerys beat him to it. His body tensed as she started. He was prepared to defend his position passionately.
“Well…I was going to propose marriage to the Warden of the North but Lord Snow seems to take issue with the imbalance of power and the legitimization of names in this relationship.”
“Daenerys knows that-“ Jon stopped, his eyes flying toward his queen as he processed what she had actually said.
He looked at Tyrion just so he could have a moment to collect himself. The surprise evident on the Hand’s face did little to help center him.
“Propose marriage?” Jon bowed his head with a furrowed brow. An unexpected enthusiasm crept into his voice.
“I said was.” The bite was clear in her tone.
“Dany…I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for my benefit.” Her eyes rolled as she spoke.
He let out another sigh and Tyrion smirked in his direction. Neither of them were going to make it easy for him.
“I'm not. I really am sorry.” He looked down at his feet momentarily before continuing. “But you also have to listen to what I'm saying. Do you remember when we met?”
She gave him a small nod so he continued.
“Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen is intimidating enough and then you add all of your accomplishments on top of that…” Jon shook his head with a sigh. “All I have to show for my life’s work is a bastard’s name. Even if I could’ve come to Dragonstone with a bunch of titles, the first thing anyone has ever known about me is that my father wouldn’t claim me as his own. Bran and Sam figuring out that I’m a Targaryen doesn’t change that. Why would I want that for my son, Dany?”
“I’m sorry. Am I missing something?” Tyrion piped up, his features scrunched in confusion.
Jon deferred to Dany, bowing his head slightly.
“I’m with child…” Daenerys threw out, barely casting a glance at Tyrion. “And the father of my child doesn’t want to marry me.”
There was a flash of insecurity on her face and then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Jon couldn’t help but dwell on it.
“I never said that.” He argued, trying to stamp out her fears.
“No…you didn’t. It was implied from your manic reaction at the thought of having a bastard child.” She answered calmly. “One would have thought that your first action would be to marry his mother.”
Jon shrugged shyly, suddenly very aware that the Queen’s Hand was in the room.
“I didn’t think that marriage was something you wanted.”
“You also failed to ask.” She chastised and Jon could tell that over anything else, he’d hurt her feelings.
He looked quickly at Tyrion and then back at Dany, bashfully taking a step forward.
“I thought it’d be a bit more romantic that this.” He purposefully shifted his gaze to Tyrion again.
Daenerys tucked in her lips trying to hide a smile.
“I thought that Ser Davos might ask Tyrion in your stead.” She joked and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“If I had known this was happening I might have asked him to come along.”
At that she smiled, bowing her head to hide it. Jon rolled his shoulders and straightened his posture and it took everything in her not to show any outward signs of the anxiety that she felt.
“Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful Queen of the Andals and First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms-“
“Jon…” Her face was heating up with embarrassment. Missandei's spiel was the last thing she wanted to hear after the argument they'd just had.
He just smiled and took a knee in front of her.
“I’m not done.” He chuckled taking her hand. “Right...the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains, the love of my life and mother of my children-“
“Children?!” She squeaked, her voice thick and her eyes wet from the effort that he was going through.
Jon simply grinned at her, kissing her hand lightly.
“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Her eyes glimmered with tears as she rubbed her fingers over Jon’s. She wanted desperately to say something smart. Anything to maintain her composure. Then he let out a small plea. A sigh from his lips that barely touched her ears.
“Dany, please.”
She thought about the last time a man was begging for her on his knees like this. Her mind wandered to how different her life would have been if she'd answered that cry for help. She surely wouldn't be sitting in Winterfell, so close to the Iron Throne that she could almost taste it. She certainly wouldn't be carrying the child of the only other living Targaryen. Or maybe she would. For that, she was eternally grateful that one of the last things Drogo did for her was extinguish the fire that tried to take hers. Jon was no Viserys and as long as he looked her with eyes full of love, she would always answer his calls for her.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Jon got to his feet quickly, cradling her face and wiping unshed tears with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned in to cover her mouth with his when a throat cleared next to them. Dany’s eyes closed and she exhaled through her nose.
“I’m just going to go but congratulations both on the engagement and the child. I’ll immediately cancel my plans after dinner to fret over your line of succession and I suppose I should warn the Unsullied that they should stand down the hall and ignore any noises that-”
“Tyrion,” Daenerys warned with her eyes locked on Jon. “Get out.”
He nodded and quietly slipped out of the door. When it finally clicked shut, she leaned forward, her forehead touching his lips.
“Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“It wasn’t your hand that interrupted.” She grimaced.
“No, but as of a few moments ago you agreed to spend the rest of your life with me. Gods willing, it’s a long one.”
“Forever sounds pretty good to me.”
“Forever it is, then.” He promised, kissing her again.
It was a dangerous promise to make, even if it weren't an impossible one. However, nothing would stop them from wanting it wholeheartedly.
“Jon?” She whispered between them. “I’m scared.”
He nodded and searched his brain for anything to quell her fears.
“I wish you weren’t. I wish I could take that away.” Jon lamented.
“Just promise that you won’t be angry. With whatever happens…just…I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.” She took a step back, shaking her head.
“I do, though. Between the two us, we’ve made the impossible happen way more than it probably should have.”
“You mean defeating the Night King?”
He nodded, taking her face in his hands and closing the gap once more.
“Let's not forget that I died once." He raised his eye brows and grinned.
It didn't make her feel any better but she knew that he hated talking about it so his optimism was appreciated. She hummed without comment, tucking herself under his chin.
"I’m also looking at the Mother of Dragons. The Unburnt. We’ve both done things that the realm could only imagine in its most fanciful songs and children's stories.”
“That doesn’t mean that it can’t all go wrong now.” She leaned back to meet his eyes.
“That’s true but…you didn’t even think you could get pregnant and we’ve done that.” He smiled, causing her to mimic him.
“And what if that’s all we’ve done? What if we never even get to meet this child?”
“I refuse to believe that.” He shrugged. “You’re already with child which means they really want to be here. They fought through the odds to get to this point so what's a few more months.”
She chuckled.
“I guess you’re right. We’ve done what Mirri Maz Duur said was impossible.”
Jon smiled at his ability to get through to her and moved his hands to touch her stomach.
“We have...and he’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”