Work Text:
Over My (Un)Dead Body
Dany glanced sidelong at Jon, who shoved his fingers through his hair for the third time in as many minutes. They stood at the gate of Winterfell’s miniscule airport for Missandei’s arrival. Grey sent his regrets, citing business in Essos and promised to visit soon. At first thought, Dany supposed Jon was nervous about meeting another vampire. Through their bond, she realized now he did not want to shame her in front of one she cherished as family. Daenerys had the same feeling at the Stark cookout a couple weekends ago. Jon found her blurring around the kitchen in a tizzy. There were five different kinds of meat, as well as two vegan options. Salad fixings strewn everywhere, the beginnings of a strawberry tartlet drooping on the countertop.
“I just want everything to be perfect,” Dany had said, when Jon stilled her frantic energy.
“They’re gonna love you. And not because you can make a six-course meal single-handed. They’re gonna love you for you. Just like me,” Jon said, kissing her.
In the end, the cookout had been a smashing success. Arya and Jon’s good opinion greased the wheels with the others. Dany bonded quickly with Robb and his wife Margaery, finding common ground in discussing business. The younger two, Bran and RIckon, worshipped Jon and were obsessed with Targaryen history and paranormal folklore—an irony that was not lost on her. Bran, smelling strongly of hemp smoke, waxed poetic about his band and how he wanted Jon to start an open mic night so The Three-Eyed Raven could really shine.
Sansa was the hardest to crack. Prepping Dany beforehand, Jon said she was the closest to the aunt who despised him. Sansa stood on the back porch, the beer bottle dangling from perfectly manicured fingernails. A needle-sharp smile and blue eyes as cold as the ice of the Wall. The chill in the air was palpable. Sansa had nibbled on appetizers and left after twenty minutes. Jon, wreathed in the grill’s smoke, hadn’t even spared a glance in her direction. Dany had buried a flare of dislike, happily imagining Sansa in a mangling car wreck.
“Don’t worry. She’s going to love you,” Dany whispered. The tension of his shoulders eased. Missandei appeared through the sliding door wearing a blinding smile. Dany’s unbeating heart lifted to see her. It had been too long.
“Darling!” Missandei said as they embraced. After so long among humans, the cool, slender strength of Missandei’s body was like another homecoming. Dany bussed both of Missandei’s cheeks.
“Missy, this is Jon Snow. Jon, this is Missandei Naath,” Dany said. She stepped back to watch the two people she loved most in the world interact. Jon, so prettily flushed, offered his hand for a shake in the same moment Missy stepped forward to embrace him. They broke off and laughed awkwardly. Jon gave Missy a one-armed hug.
“A pleasure to meet you, Missandei. Dany’s told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already,” Jon said.
“Missy, please. Quite the same, Jon. I’m especially interested to learn about this bond you share. Quite unique,” she said. Linking arms between Jon and Missy, the three of endured the tedium of obtaining luggage and finding their way to Dany’s red SUV.
“Is this your first time in the north, Missandei?” Jon asked as he heaved Missandei’s suitcase into the back. So anxiously gallant. Gods, she loved him. He slid into the backseat, squinting worriedly at the sky. It was a rare clear(ish) day in Winterfell. Dany hid a smile. It rested on her lips to reassure him that both she and Missandei had many decades of experience in evading the bite of the sun. The custom UV protection she invested in the window tinting cost a fortune, but it was worth it.
“I’ve been to Westeros, but it’s been . . . what, Dany? At least seventy-five years?”
“Eighty-one,” Dany corrected, “remember the incident with Jalabhar Xho.”
“Oh yes, that’s right.”
Missandei swiveled in her chair as Dany turned out of the airport onto the highway into town.
“Do you travel, Jon?” Missandei asked. Dany felt the delicious change in ambient temperature as Jon blushed.
“I’ve never been south of the Neck. But I have seen the Wall,” he said, the words heartbreakingly shy. Dany resolved to book an insanely extravagant vacation of the two of them. There were many downsides to being a vampire, but she could give Jon this.
“I’ve never seen the Wall! I hear it’s magnificent,” Missandei said.
“It is. When the sun hits it right, it looks like a fallen piece of the sky sitting on the ground,” Jon said.
“Is that why you named your bar The Night’s Watch? For the Wall’s ancient guardians?”
“Yes. It was also a . . . reminder. Of what can be overcome,” Jon said quietly. Dany shared a glance with Jon in the rearview mirror. His time on the Wall had made him wiser, more careful.
“Well said,” Dany said. A part of her wished she had chosen to travel to Westeros a decade ago, and met Jon when he was young and fierce and wild. The reminder of his frail mortality flooded her with irrational panic. So few years together. A couple of decades and then . . . and then . . . the thought of Jon dying made her want to claw at her face. And that was if nothing went wrong. A car accident, a bad diagnosis, a random act of violence. Anything could take him from her. Anything at all. The steering wheel whined as her hands flexed.
This is what he deserves. A good life. Good only exists because there is an end. Poignant beauty breathed in the fragility of mortal life. The panic ebbed a little, but Dany didn’t relish contemplating the barren eternity that awaited her when Jon breathed his last.
“Dany? Are you ok?” Jon’s beloved voice broke her reverie. No doubt he had felt the savor of grief and panic in her thoughts.
“Fine, sorry. Just wool-gathering,” Dany waved off his concern. Though both grey and gold eyes regarded her with identical expressions of doubt. Conversation flowed easily. Her unbeating heart squeezed in a glittery rush of happiness. Missandei was so easy to talk to, and Jon had marvelous stories. Having the two of them together filled her with joy.
The week of Missandei’s visit flew by. The three of them made a happy trio. Hiking all the beautiful trails in Winterfell National Park. Missandei with her talent for language made for a wicked Scrabble opponent, though Jon proved his mettle at dominoes. Arya and Gendry joined them for a barbeque in the last dying gasps of summer. Dany rested her head against Jon’s shoulder, listening to the steady music of his heartbeat and considered herself supremely content.
And then, Tuesday.
~
Hiding things from your vampire girlfriend to whom you are psychically linked was about as hard as one might think. The key was remaining calm, unperturbed. Calm lakes. Boundless skies. Spikes of emotion caught her attention. Dany was out running errands for the bar, and wasn’t due back for another hour at least. Distracted. There was time. If Jon could keep his cool.
“Missandei?” Jon asked. Scowling fiercely at her tablet, Missandei’s expression cleared as she looked up at him. Sleek and gorgeous with wise golden eyes, Jon was struck anew by her good looks. Was that a vampire thing? Being devastatingly good-looking?
“What can I do for you, Jon?” she asked.
“I have a . . . favor to ask,” Jon said, breathing in and out. Carefully. Slowly. Think calm. Snow-hushed quiet. A crackling fire in a fireplace. Missandei cocked her head—one of Dany’s gestures. Or perhaps a vampire one, another angle to look at one’s prey.
“What kind of favor?” there was a sharp tang in her voice. She was on to him.
“Let me tell you all about it,” Jon said.
Vampires were nocturnal by nature. Jon usually was too—by necessity as owner of the Night’s Watch. Today though, on his day off, he was peacefully asleep. Or, he had been. He felt the gentle brush of Dany’s lips before sleep swallowed him. The tenor of his dreams had been a confused jumble of her and Arya and Missandei. Then he woke. He kept himself sprawled on the bed, kept his breathing deep and even, straining his ears to hear downstairs. The acoustics were decent from where they sat on the couch.
“How is Grey?” Dany asked.
“He’s well,” Missandei answered absently, “he is in the Bay of Dragons working on an antiquities purchase.”
“Not from--” Dany began with sharpness in her tone.
“Would it be so horrible to see objects from that time?” Missandei’s answer was soft. Questions multiplied in his mind. Another glimpse through the keyhole at Dany’s life before she was changed. Jon’s heartbeat quickened despite his efforts.
“Ah yes, everyone relishes the thought of documentation of their failures,” Dany went on, rich with sarcasm.
“Failure? Is that what you call saving people like Grey and me from a horrific fate?” Missandei said. Jon recognized the careful flatness of Missandei’s tone. She was angry. Horrific fate? And Dany saved them for that? Jon’s mind buzzed. It suited her. Daenerys Targaryen was above all a rescuer.
“Never mind. Grey can buy the whole pyramid if he wishes. Go ahead. Open an exhibit,” Dany said with a thud on the coffee table for emphasis.
“Temper tantrums are for children, Daenerys. Feel free to act your age,” Missandei drawled. Dany said something in that low liquid language—High Valyrian, he now knew. Having been around slurring drunks as long as he had, the tenor of the words sounded like cursing. Missandei replied in kind. Damn it! Switch back to Common so I can understand! He willed Missandei to hear his unspoken plea.
“You know very well that Summer Islanders don’t acknowledge the concept of marriage, much less bastardy, so you render the insult moot,” Missandei said, and despite the cultured words, there was an undercurrent of laughter in her voice.
“As long as you’re already riled . . .” Missandei continued, “Jon asked me for a favor.”
“A favor?” Dany said uncomprehending in Common. Jon’s mouth went dry. While she had made her distaste clear, maybe this would be a perfect solution. He tried not to hope for it, like a kid at Winter Solstice hoping for presents, but here he was.
“He asked me to turn him,” Missandei said with a translator’s crisp enunciation. Dany’s reaction was a wordless hiss. A muddle of muted thuds and smacks followed. Gods, where they fighting? Jon risked sliding out of bed and lay flat on the carpet. He could see a narrow triangle of the living room from the angle. Missandei’s soft cloud of black hair was pressed against the wall. Dany was nose to nose with her. Though they spoke softer, they were closer to the landing and Jon could just make out the words.
“You know my feelings on this, Missy. I will not curse him to live this way,” Dany said, implacable.
“I know your feelings. I know his too. Jon loves you, Dany. He wants this. Will you really deny him what he wants? A life with you? A life together?” Missandei said. Jon inwardly cheered. He couldn’t have chosen a better champion. Maybe the words from her dearest friend’s mouth would sway her. He hoped. He hoped.
“A life? Is that what you call this? Existing? Creeping in the dark? Sucking life from men like a godsdamned parasite? Watching everyone he loves wither and die until he is alone in the world.” The steely words softened, quavered and broke at the last. The restraining grip softened and the two heads one black, one silver, bent together in an embrace.
“We’ve done well enough. We’ve found happiness,” Missandei said.
“Yes. A miracle. Grey is a miracle, and the perfect mate for you,” Dany said.
“As Jon is for you, nuha mandia.”
Jon waited as the seconds ticked by. Maybe, maybe she would finally see . . .
“No,” Dany said in that tone, as hard as dragonsteel.
“Jon deserves a full, happy, human life. I will give him everything he deserves.” Tears flooded Jon’s eyes and he bit his fist to stifle a sob. They disagreed on the how’s of it, but Jon could hear how much Dany loved him. With every fiber of her soul.
“You’re being ridiculous, Dany. Pointlessly denying Jon something he wants. Not to mention yourself.”
“I am being ridiculous. Selfish. Horribly selfish. If I truly cared for him, I would disappear and let him find a human woman he can share his life with.” Panic stabbed deep, but thankfully Missandei was enough to distract Dany from sensing his emotions.
“Gods, Dany! Open your eyes! You love Jon more than anything else. You would do anything for him. Do you really think he is any less devoted to you? If you leave—and I swear I’ll kidnap you before you do something so foolish!—Jon would spend the rest of his life nursing a broken heart!”
“I’ll never leave him. Ever,” Dany vowed. Relief loosened his joints and Jon pressed his face into the carpet, shuddering with mixed joy and sorrow.
“He is perfect just as he is. And if you change him behind my back, I will never speak to you again.” A vow from Daenerys Targaryen was as immutable as gravity, and Jon heard her sincerity. He sympathized with Missandei. A life without Dany sounded like one of the seven hells. He didn’t blame her for balking at that.
“This is a mistake, Dany. I’m going for some air. Apologize to Jon for me,” Missandei. Then a flutter, and the door hinges screeching.
Jon vaulted to his feet and thundered down the stairs. Dany stood framed by the inky darkness of the house beyond, slumped and forlorn.
“You heard?” Dany asked, hiccupping in her vampire version of crying.
“Yes. Come here,” Jon said, opening his arms. In the next heartbeat, she nestled under his chin, hugging him with jealous tightness. Jon breathed in the wild appley smell of her, his tears falling to rest like little jewels in her hair before sinking in.
“I love you,” Dany whispered, kissing the throb of his pulse at his neck. Jon shivered, already yearning for the sweet pain of her fangs. The muddled soup of emotion boiled up inside him, hot and thick as molten lava. Jon held her face between his hands for one tender moment, watching her expression crumple. Then he seized her mouth in a savage kiss. His tongue thrust, his lips demanded, and she yielded under his assault. Her silver hair slid between his fingers finer than silk.
“Keep saying it,” he rasped against the seal of her lips. Those violet eyes glowed.
“I love you,” Dany gasped.
Rough, hurried movements as they shed clothes to touch bare skin. Jon picked Dany up, shoving her back against the brick wall. Dany twined her limbs around him, lips kissing and sucking and nibbling along his neck, letting him think about it, ache for it. Jon nudged his cock between her nether lips, a rocking kiss up and down her slit, teasing her clit. Letting her think about it. Ache for it. Foreheads pressed together, they panted in a warm universe where only two of them existed. Sharing breath, tasting the sounds of each other’s moans. Jon kissed her hard, one hand roughly tugging at her pert nipples. His hand slid down between their bodies over the softness of her belly, the tender skin of her inner thigh to pet her cunt. Coarse dark blonde hair, plump nether lips, silky nectar and the taut nub of her clit. He strummed it with his thumb, sliding one finger in her plush heat. Longing quaked through him.
Jon held her gaze as he forged inside. Her lips were slack, fangs glinting in a sliver of moonlight. Beautiful. Wild. His. The pleasure was exquisite. A tear flashed down his cheek. Heat poured off him, sweat made their skin glide as he began to thrust. Deep and slow, reveling in sensation.
“I love you,” Dany moaned as she came. Jon cursed, feeling the sweet greedy flutters of cunt around him, coaxing him to let go. So good. Always so fucking good. Jon resisted.
He pulled her from the wall and turned to lay her on the bed, still joined. Oh yeah, that’s what he wanted. Her hair a silver spill on the dark sheets. Those violet eyes so full of love, those hands pulling him down for a kiss. After a timeless eternity, passion stoked hotter. Jon lost himself in a hard, jarring rhythm. Unleashing all his hidden hopes, his bitter anger, his adoration. Love, love, love. Pleasure surged up, seizing them both in its red tidal wave. Dany’s fangs sank in his throat, and Jon screamed through another orgasm. The potent pleasure and pain never seemed to slacken. She lazily lapped at the wound, sending shivers down his spine. Jon lay there as his heartbeat slowed, pinning her beneath his weight as if something was about to snatch her away.
“I love you,” Dany said again, a little brokenly.
“I know you do,” Jon said.