Chapter Text
Following the White Wolf
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! I had been wanting to write and post a new fic but just hadn't been able to think of what I wanted to write about. I hadn’t originally planned to write anything for Valentine’s Day but I was thinking about holiday colors and aesthetics, red, Jonerys, dragon, wolf, red, wolf, red…wolf… so of course, Red Riding Hood popped into my head. I have a major soft spot for fairytale retellings so I hope you guys enjoy!
Also, definitely intended to finish this by Valentine’s Day but life got in the way. I definitely plan on finishing this up soon though. You (hopefully) won’t have to wait long for the next part.
The first time it happened, Daenerys returned to the orphanage wondering if it had all been a dream. Perhaps the Septas were right. Perhaps she was mad. Because surely, surely what she thought had happened was impossible. Surely there wasn’t a great white wolf in the woods who could turn into a beautiful man and… do those things… those things he had done… with his hands… with his tongue … No. A dream. It must have all been a dream…
As the eldest girl at the orphanage, Daenerys was to be phased out soon. No one had explicitly told her this, but she knew from experience. Having lived there all her life, she had seen numerous girls thrown out once they came of age. Some were lucky enough to be married off to old men who didn’t care they didn’t have dowries, just a working womb. Even fewer who possessed enough talent were able to obtain apprenticeships with a local seamstress or baker. The suck-ups would sometimes be able to start their own path toward becoming a septa. But most, unfortunately, ended up in the whorehouse on the edge of the village, returning to the place from whence many of them came.
Daenerys was not the daughter of a whore, but she was just as shamed. She supposed it was warranted when a man killed nearly his entire family, then himself, leaving only his baby daughter behind, forgotten in her cradle as he had gone on his rampage. No one would want to marry her. No one would want her working in their shops or their homes, afraid she would be just like her father and go mad, and kill them all in their sleep.
Every day that brought her closer and closer to her name day felt like a weight added to an invisible sack slung over her shoulders, dragging her down to the bottom of the world. The only solace she could find these days was visiting her ancient uncle Aemon, who had not been able to take her in as a child due to his blindness and lack of fortune. Once he lost his sight, he too had been abandoned by family, dumped at a crumbling sept several villages over.
The three hour walk to see him wasn’t without its risk, but Dany figured the septas at the orphanage let her go without escort because, if she were attacked in the woods on the way there, then they wouldn’t have to go through the awkward business of kicking her out when she came of age. For her journey, Dany packed a small basket with bread and cheese and cured meat, a skin of cool water, a small flask of strongwine nicked from the septa’s private stores just because she felt like it, and of course, a lemon cake for uncle Aemon, also pilfered from the septas. The old twats never gave the girls such sweets but Dany had discovered at an early age that she could pick the lock of the larder fairly easily. Lastly, she slung a red hood over her shoulders to keep her warm, and off she went.
No one bid her farewell as she left, though they did watch her go with whispers behind hands. And Dany didn’t think it was her imagination that the look in their eyes as she went was one of hope. Hope that she wouldn’t return. Hope that there would be one less mouth to feed. Hope that they’d be rid of the mad Targaryen girl once and for all. Dany didn’t care though. It was a beautiful morning. And she didn’t want to spend a second of it dwelling on what other people thought of her. As uncle Aemon so aptly put it to her once, the dragon does not concern itself with the opinions of sheep.
She reached uncle Aemon just before midday and visited with him for hours. They played a few games of cyvasse, Dany read to him from a favorite book of theirs about princesses riding dragons, the munched on the pilfered lemon cake, and Aemon regaled Dany with amusing stories of their family and his own life, before he had lost his sight.
“My dear,” Aemon said in his weak and scraggly voice. Dany’s stomach flipped nervously, already knowing what he was going to say and dreading it. “It seems our time together must come to an end. It will be dark soon, and you need to be getting home.”
“The orphanage is not my home,” Dany insisted stubbornly. She didn’t want to leave Aemon. She didn’t want to go back to that awful orphanage with its rude girls and even meaner Septas. Soon she wouldn’t even be able to go back there anyway, so what did it matter?
“No,” Aemon agreed, “Not home. But you do need to be getting back there all the same. It will be dark soon. And I shudder to think what might befall you should you not make it back before then. I worry for you every time you leave until the next time I see you again.” Dany couldn’t argue with that. She didn’t want her uncle spending his time and energy worrying about her. He needed to focus all his efforts into just living. Because if Dany lost Aemon, then she would have no one. No one left who cared for her.
“Alright uncle, I shall go,” Dany told him, albeit reluctantly. “But I will be back to see you soon.” She smoothed the little wisps of white hair away from his face and kissed his forehead. “Stay strong for me,” she told him, though it was more a plea than anything.
“Don’t you worry about me, my dear.” He patted her hand kindly. “You must worry about yourself. Your nameday will be coming up soon. Tell me, have you been able to secure a position in town? Or has some handsome young man caught your eye?” He always asked her such questions and so she answered him the way she always did.
“No uncle, not yet. But hopefully soon.”
In low spirits on her walk back, Daenerys pulled out her small flask of strongwine and sipped it slowly, dragging her feet the entire way as she did not want to have to return to the orphanage. Men who had no place in the world could just go North to the Wall and live out their days in service to the Night’s Watch. But there was no such place for women who had nowhere else to go. Her family had left her with no money, her father having spent it all on wine and women before committing his terrible crime. She had no dowry. No prospects anyway even if logistics of a dowry weren’t an issue. No one wanted to marry the mad Targaryen’s daughter.
Daenerys wondered what it would be like to marry and have a husband and children. A family. There was one young man, Daario Naharis, who was very nice to look at and once gave her flowers as she and a few other girls ran errands in town. The septas had whipped her good when she got back that evening, accusing her of being an amoral hussy, Dany’s lovely flowers crumpled and tossed into the compost heap.
Sometimes Dany wondered if she was an amoral hussy with all the images and feelings she had swirling around in her mind and her body. The septas had taught her and the rest of the girls that the fleshy little bean down between their legs was a thing of sin, and that good girls didn’t play with it. But since Dany had discovered it on her own as a young girl, she eagerly awaited the moments when she could be alone to give herself that small bit of relief. Living at the orphanage, there was precious little to be excited or happy about or take pleasure from.
She looked up at the sky, noting the sun dancing with the edge of the horizon. She was about half an hour away from the village and an hour away from dusk. She had time enough for a little… indulgence.
Dany detoured off the worn forest path a bit until she found a comfortable spot behind a large boulder, and sank into the soft grass beside it. She took off her gloves and stuffed them into her basket with the remnants of her water and bread and cheese, though she kept the wineskin out, taking a generous sip as she slowly pulled up her skirts.
But as Dany’s hand dipped beneath the band of her smallclothes, she stopped suddenly and looked around. She saw nothing. There was nothing around her save the trees and a few butterflies. Taking another sip of wine and setting the flask aside, Dany decided it was just her nerves and dipped her hand inside her smallclothes once again.
Her fingers found wet flesh and Dany groaned loudly, back arching as she slowly began to tease herself for the first time in weeks. Having discovered this little trick at about the age of five and now being nearly ten and seven, Daenerys knew well just how to bring herself to release.
She stopped again, yanking her hand out of her pants and looking around wildly. Nothing. There was nothing there and yet, Dany still couldn’t help the strange feeling tickling the back of her neck. That feeling of being… watched. Then again, she only had a few months left at the orphanage anyway. It’s not as if anyone spying her and snitching to the septas would inconvenience her any more than she would be when she came of age. Not that there was anyone watching her anyway. She could see nothing between the branches and trunks of the surrounding trees.
Sinking into the ground once more and sinking her hand beneath her skirts, she found her little pearl again at the apex of her sex and started to circle it in earnest, eager to be done with her little diversion and on her way back to town, but also eager for the burst of good feelings her release would bring, even if they only lasted a moment.
A twig snapped nearby but Dany told herself the noise was in her head and kept going, groaning and throwing her head back at the tingles radiating throughout her body. Just a little more. A little more. She felt eyes on her once more but she kept at it. She would be done in a moment. Just… a little… bit… more…
The string winding tighter and tighter inside her snapped and Dany cried out, free hand clenching the grass beneath her as she rode out the waves of her climax, momentarily forgetting the noise she had heard and the prickling feeling raising the hairs on the back of her neck.
But a crunch of leaves and menacing growl later and Dany’s eyes snapped open, her heart slamming hard beneath her breast. Not two feet in front of her stood a great white wolf with burning red eyes. And he was staring right at her.
Panic seized all of Dany’s limbs and everything she had ever learned about various wild animals and what she should do should she encounter any in the woods went out of her mind like sand through a sieve. A wolf. She didn’t know if she was supposed to run or stay still, make herself appear larger or smaller, stay as quiet as a mouse or make a racket. The only thing she knew in that moment was that he had seen her… was staring right at her… and there was no sneaking away from him now.
“Easy,” Dany told the wolf quietly, and his ears twitched as if he were listening, though his stance was no less threatening. “I don’t mean you any harm.” He took a small step toward her and on instinct, Dany cowered, shrinking herself as small as she could get, body hunched over the ground and pressed hard to the giant rock behind her. She had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
A deep growl emanated from the wolf’s chest, and Dany curled in on herself, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible, but also not wanting to make any sudden movements should he think her prey he could chase. More leaves crunched and she knew he was moving closer but she shut her eyes, too afraid to see what he was about to do. If he was going to kill her, she’d rather not watch.
Suddenly a cold, wet nose was rooting around the hem of her skirts and Dany was so shocked that she momentarily forgot she was dealing with a large, deadly creature. “Hey!” Pushing herself up on her hands and knees she reached back and tried to smooth her skirts over her bottom, but the wolf was insistent, burrowing himself all the way under and nosing about as if he had a right to. “Get out of there!” Daenerys was about to flip over and crab-crawl away but another deep growl stilled her movements.
Heart hammering, Dany remained still and her face burned as the wolf gave a languid lick to the back of her thigh. She yelped though at a sharp nip to the same spot, knowing he hadn’t broken the skin but still guessing she’d have a nasty bruise there.
Seemingly disinterested again, the wolf backed away and out of Dany’s skirts and stood looking at her. “Shoo!” Dany said with much less confidence than she intended. He lowered his head and growled low again, making Dany’s heart jump into her throat.
“What do you want?” she whispered, terrified, but oddly, more confused than anything.
As if in answer to her question the wolf started to walk away, but turned back suddenly, looking at her again. Dany did nothing. The wolf huffed as if frustrated. But that was silly. How could a wolf be frustrated? He took another few steps toward her again, stopped, then turned back and began to walk away, stopped, and looked back at her.
“What?” Dany asked, feeling positively foolish for talking to an animal but also, having the strangest thought that he could understand her. The wolf lowered his head and growled as if she should know what. This is madness. When she still didn’t move, the white wolf walked right up to her, Dany cowering back into the rock behind her again, flattening herself to it to get away from him. That cold, wet nose pressed to her cheek and sniffed at her face. She watched as the wolf opened his menacing jaw and took a mouthful of her red hood and pulled. “Oh!”
It was all Dany could do to crawl awkwardly forward as he pulled her along. After several feet, he stopped, backed away and watched her expectantly, his meaning now abundantly clear. Follow. So Dany followed.
Walking along behind the wolf, Dany tried a few times to look for some way of escape. But after a few menacing growls, as if telling her Don’t even think about it, Dany resigned herself to her bizarre situation and continued following the wolf to wherever it was he wanted to take her.
Nothing about the whole ordeal made any sense. Wolves didn’t lead people places. Wolves attacked people. Or left them alone. Other than that, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of interaction between the two species.
It was now well past dark and Dany had no idea where she was. But oddly, every time the white wolf would turn back around to make sure she was still following, she felt safe. After all, there was nothing more fearsome in the woods than a wolf, and she was traveling with one. Whatever else they might encounter on their journey could do her no harm with him around.
After what felt like ages, Dany saw a small cottage in the distance. Our destination? She supposed she should have had more of a sense of self preservation than to walk right up the steps of the house, still following the wolf. But, well, she had already come this far. She wanted to see where this strange creature had led her.
He nudged the door handle with his nose and so Dany obliged, opening it and following him inside, into the dark. The moon and stars briefly lit up what Dany could see was a single room, complete with an unlit fireplace and a small bed. But the door shut sharply behind Dany, seemingly of its own accord, making her yelp and jump. Did the door shut on its own or did the wolf close it? It was such a strange thought but she wouldn’t put it past the wolf to be knowledgeable enough to close doors.
Suddenly there was a flash of bright, white light behind her and Dany had to shield her eyes with her hands, momentarily blinded. The air in the room shifted. Dany opened her eyes once more, but even if she didn’t have stars dancing in front of them from the flash, she still wouldn’t be able to see, as it was so dark in the room. But she could feel it. Feel him.
“Hello?” Dany said tentatively. Somehow she knew the wolf wasn’t in the room anymore. But someone else was. A large warm hand on her shoulder made Dany jump and yelp again but he just squeezed, as if to steady or comfort her.
A warm body pressed right up against the back of hers and Dany gasped, but she did not pull away, either out of fear or immeasurable curiosity, she wasn’t sure. Soft, warm lips touched her neck and she bit her lip to keep a moan from escaping them. He was kissing her neck. And wrapping his arms around her body… And grinding what she knew to be his manhood up against her backside. She whimpered pittifully as he licked leisurely from the base of her shoulder to the spot behind her ear, groaning in a way that made the muscles in Dany’s belly clench with desire.
He pulled away then and Dany momentarily felt the sting of loss though she knew nothing about him. He slowly turned her around to face him and though it was too dark to make out his features in great detail, somehow she knew he was young, and handsome. One of his hands slid from her shoulder to her face, cupping her cheek sweetly and she leaned into it automatically like a dog desperate for pets. Gods, she didn’t even know his name.
He leant down and Dany’s heart was pounding so quickly, she wondered if he could hear it rattling around beneath her breast. But even if he could, he didn’t seem to mind, as he pressed his lips to hers presumptuously. Though her mind was spinning with the implications of the kiss, she couldn’t stop the moan that left her, muffled by his mouth. He was so warm and strong and soft and sure. Dany had never been kissed by anyone before, had never been held so intimately. But suddenly she didn’t care. If this was madness, she would surely embrace it. It felt too good not to.
As his tongue boldly explored her mouth, he slowly backed her further into the room, until the backs of her legs hit what she assumed was his bed. Strangely, she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the white wolf and where he had gone. But that seemed a silly thought. He IS the white wolf. It was the stuff of fairytales. Like in the books she often read to uncle Aemon when she would visit him. Men couldn’t turn into wolves. And wolves couldn’t turn into men. It was absurd.
But it was the only thing that made a lick of sense.
A small slit in the linen curtains above the bed allowed a bit of silvery moonlight to peek through the window there, and Dany could now just make out some of the man’s features. She had been correct in her earlier assumption. He was young, perhaps no older than she was. His hair was curly and dark, which surprised her. She was expecting pale blonde, like her own. Like the wolf . His eyes were dark too, and fixed hungrily on her face. She blushed. Lastly she noticed his lips, those lips that had already dotted on her so sweetly. They were plump and wet from their kisses, and a tongue darted out quickly to lick them and Dany had the urge to lick them too.
And, as she noticed upon trailing her fingers from one of his shoulders down his side, he was completely naked. Her body flamed further at the thought. She was alone, with a naked man. It was scandalous. It was confusing. It was terribly exciting. And it was utter madness. What was she thinking, being alone in a room with a naked man? Kissing a naked man? Kissing any man. Though the septas thought her irredeemable and beyond the gods’ help, Dany knew herself. Knew the things she had and hadn’t done. And she had certainly never done anything like… this.
And what was this? Was this some wild fever dream? Had she fallen asleep after her release and her imagination just continued the fantasy? Or was she really there, in some unknown cabin, with some unknown man, who could possibly, magically take the form of a wolf, and was she really going to allow him to lay her back on his bed and spread her legs for him?
Before she could think on her dilemma any further, the man stepped closer to her and reached behind her, tentatively tugging on one of the ties to her dress. He watched her face as he did it. As if he were saying to her, tell me to stop, and I will stop. Dany didn’t tell him to stop. She didn’t say anything. So when that tie was loose, he slowly slipped his hand down to the next one and gave it a tug.
When enough of the ties had been loosened, he pulled the dress down and gave a gasp, Dany’s cheeks heating as he stared down at her nakedness. That little gasp was for her . For her body. The thought was intoxicating and she could feel arousal start to kiss her lower lips with dew. Whether this was fantasy or for real, Dany no longer cared.
The man held out his hand and she stepped out of her dress, stomach fluttering with nerves as he sat her down on the bed, and knelt on the floor to unlace her boots for her. Whoever he was, what ever he was, he was no doubt a considerate and attentive lover.
Her heart pounded hard as he gently pushed her back into the covers and settled himself close to her, pressing his whole body into the side of hers. Her cheeks positively burned as she felt his manhood, hot and hard resting against her hip. But he made no move to force himself between her legs.
A part of her wished he would though. She could feel herself dripping and her small clothes growing damp as they lay next to each other. But when he sniffed her neck again and gave it another tender lick, she couldn’t help but wonder at what exactly he was. He was a man now, of course. But he didn’t entirely act like one. And though he didn’t at all resemble the wolf in appearance, she was certain that they were one in the same. But how was that possible? She would have asked, but she wasn’t sure that he would answer her.
Oblivious to her inner musings, the man brought a hand up and laid it across her chest, not to touch, just to rest there. His leg followed suit, stretching across both her legs to rest over them. She wondered at the behavior and couldn’t help the small smile that played her lips. If they were just going to lay there together, that would certainly be an unexpected turn of events.
He went back to gently nosing at her neck, alternating between licking and kissing her there. If her assumptions were correct, and he was the white wolf, if he was both, she wondered if it had always been that way. Or if he had been one first and then, somehow, gained the ability to turn into the other. So many strange questions swirling around in her mind. And she had no idea how to ask him any of them.
His legs shifted and he slipped a hand down to her clothed sex, cupping it possessively.
“Oh!” Dany stiffened, not sure how to react. No one had ever touched her there, save herself. She had guessed when he led her to the bed that this was what his goal was, but still, it was a shock, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it yet. Yes she had decided to let this fantasy play out, if that was what it was, but, what would it be like… to lay with a man for the first time?
He groaned into her neck and started to rub her through the fabric and soon the issue of losing her maidenhead didn’t seem so important as the sweet sensations he was creating for her, reverberated throughout her entire body.
He grunted and gave her smallclothes a tentative tug downward, permission , and Dany granted it to him, reaching to push them down her thighs, the man helping to pull them all the way off and tossing them to the floor with her dress and shoes. Immediately his hand returned to caress between her thighs and Dany arched her back and moaned as his fingers found her slit.
It was a little clumsy at first, him not knowing how to touch her, what exactly pleased her most, but his figuring it out still felt good. When he pushed a finger inside her, she gasped and clutched onto his arm, still adjusting to having a man touch her so intimately. He slowed his explorations but didn’t stop, thrusting slowly in and out of her.
“Will you kiss me again?” Dany asked in a whisper, not sure if this was a situation where she could make such demands or if he would even understand her, but her new lover took her lips with his without hesitation, a possessive and demanding, yet sweet and passionate pressure, and when their tongues met, Dany moaned into his mouth, wanting more.
But all too soon, he broke away, his kisses beginning to travel south, over her neck, her shoulder, the side of her breast. She was already in his bed and he was already more intimately acquainted with her body than anyone else in the world. But still, her breaths came out in nervous pants, her breathing picking up even quicker as his lips moved ever closer to… no. He couldn’t possibly be planning to kiss her… there, could he?
He planted little kisses on the insides of her thighs, making her squirm. She stared down at him in anticipation; of what, she didn’t exactly understand, but she was curious nonetheless. Their eyes met and she watched him slowly lick at the arousal lingering on her thigh, and her mouth popped open in shock. He closed his eyes briefly as if savoring the flavor of her, and then followed the trail of wetness to its source.
Their eyes met again and he gave her a wolfish, knowing grin before lowering his mouth to her center, lapping at her like one might sweet cream off a spoon.
“Oh!” Any and all thoughts she may have had in that moment scattered as the sweet sensations she was used to giving herself multiplied tenfold under his tongue. She had never heard of such an act before and she wondered if it was a thing men regularly did for their wives, or if it was something only he did, out of a more animalistic instinct.
Either way, she didn’t care. It felt amazing. Alternating between flicking his tongue at the little pearl at the top of her sex and pulling it between his lips to suck on it, he left Dany a writhing mess. She gripped his head between her thighs, somewhat embarrassed about how easily he was undoing her but it only seemed to spur him on. Strong hands kneaded her backside, fingers digging into her plump cheeks there, adding to the chaos of sensation he was already causing.
In what felt like no time at all he had worked her up to the crest of her pleasure, and with a few final swirls of his tongue, Dany fell helplessly, crying out and plummeting mindlessly into the dark abyss. She felt him crawl back up at her side and she wrapped her arms around him, wanting his kisses, wanting him to push himself inside her, but it seemed it was not to be. Because as she was trying to gain control over her breathing and come back from her release, she felt him against her hip, cock in hand. A few rough jerks and a groan so carnal it nearly set her off again, and he shot out onto her stomach in thick ropes of sticky seed. Partly it shocked her, feeling the warm wetness covering her belly. Partly it relieved her, with them both being able to find their own ends without the risk of possibly putting a child in her. But mostly it just confused her. He had found her all alone in the woods. Had got her to follow him back to his home. Had got her naked and into his bed. Why did he want to end things in this way?
“Mine.” Dany almost couldn’t understand what he had said, the word spoken nearly indistinguishable from a growl. But as he pulled her close and nuzzled into her neck, she understood. Mine. Dany snuggled into him as well and merely hummed in agreement. Whoever he was, what ever he was, she would gladly be his.
Dany woke with a start, the feeling of being all alone in a strange and unfamiliar place prickling at her senses. She sat up and looked wildly around, a lump forming in her throat when she found nothing. No one in bed beside her. No one in the house. She looked down and noticed there was a fur blanket covering her body. That hadn’t been there last night. Last night. Last night when she had… with that man… that man who had been a wolf…
She pulled the blanket off of her and noticed her belly was clean. No spilled seed. She ran a hand over her bare stomach in disbelief. Tentatively, she slipped it down further between her thighs. No, that seemed right. She was still damp with past arousal. But nothing else made sense. Where was the man? Where was the wolf?
When she could think of nothing else and could wait no longer for an explanation she wasn’t sure would come, she climbed out of the bed, finding her dress and boots and smallclothes on the floor where they had been left the night before. She dressed quickly, her mind still spinning. Had she dreamt it? Had it been real?
A man transforming from a wolf could not possibly be real. But she had seen him. Had seen the flash of light. Had felt him. Had kissed him. But now he was nowhere to be seen. When she looked down at her appearance she noticed two dirty pawprints on her dress. The wolf. So he had been real, that was certain. But where had the man gone?
With nowhere else to go, Dany headed back to her village, finding her discarded basket and gloves near where the wolf had spotted her the day before. So odd. When she arrived at the orphanage, the septas threw a fit, accusing her of spending the night in some rogue’s bed. Though it was possibly true (Dany still wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not), she would never admit it to the septas.
“There was a wolf!” She pointed to the pawprints on her dress.
“You put those there yourself,” one septa said, holding Dany’s arm in a bruising grip.
“No!” Dany exclaimed. Her name day was still weeks off. She wasn’t ready to lose the roof over her head and regular hot meals just yet (even if the bowls of brown served there did taste awful). “He bit me,” Dany told them, suddenly remembering.
“I see no marks on you.”
“He bit my leg,” Dany explained, somewhat embarrassed. He had done many other things near and around her legs. If he was even real at all.
“Show me.” The septa pulled her into a small, private office and had Dany lift up her skirt. There it was, plain as day. Where the wolf had nipped at her the day before. Right before he led her away to his cabin and pleasured her as a human man. It was him, wasn’t it?
“Oh my!” The septa held her chest in shock, the unmistakable shape of the bite on Dany’s thigh granting validity to her story.
“I ran,” Dany lied. “And I got lost. I fell asleep in the woods. I’m sorry.” It felt silly having to try to convince the septas that she hadn’t done what she thought she had done so that they would let her back into the orphanage. But as she had no idea where the wolf — man, whatever he was — was now, she had no choice but the orphanage.
The only question was, would she ever see him again? He had called her mine, but did he really mean it? Was he even real at all?