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[ungentle]

Daenerys knew the North very well by now, as much as she knew it wasn't hers.

She'd spent practically her whole life in Winterfell, under Lord Eddard's -- protection?  Care?  Watchful eye?  Possibly some combination -- and truly, she was grateful of it.  Surely her life could have taken other, less civil turns: exile, perhaps, or being killed like the rest of her family.  She wasn't a Stark, she had always known she didn't quite belong, but she was looked after by the Starks, this for reasons she was only just beginning to understand.  (It fascinated her that not killing children was considered a matter of politics and not of basic decency, but then, she was only a young girl, she wasn't meant to understand these things.)

It wasn't uncommon for the once-princess to seek out privacy and quiet when her day's work was done.  She'd been a striking girl and she'd grown into an even more striking woman, and even despite the whispered worries about her lineage, she had always received a great deal of attention; she was as good and polite as she could be when approached, but this tendency to run off and hide, though not entirely ladylike, stemmed from a desire to avoid such attention.  She often retreated to the godswood, though not from any particular religious inclination so much as that she knew it was unlikely she'd be disturbed there, at least by anyone who wasn't welcome to disturb her.

Today's earlier raven from King's Landing, though innocuous enough, had sent Daenerys into a mood: carefully disguised, hardly noticeable to most, but nonetheless one she felt she needed to be alone, or mostly alone, to sort through.  If anyone were to look for her, or just to stumble across her, they'd find her in the godswood, bundled in a cloak and deep in thought.

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[blackbastard]

If life were fair, he thinks, the words echoing from their earlier talk, then they would be saying these words and doing these things on the night after their wedding. But fairness isn't something people like he and Daenerys can count on, so they're taking what they can when they can. Jon lowers himself to the blankets as gracefully as he can manage, then helps her down beside him.

Jon puts one arm around Daenerys and stops. He's done so much planning, making sure that they wouldn't be disturbed that he's given no real thought to what would happen next. He stares at her, transfixed but near panic. Jon has no idea how to proceed at all, so he falls back to one thing he knows he can do. He kisses her again.

From there, it's something of a natural progression to fall back down, laying together much as they had in the godswood.

[ungentle]

If it's true, if Jon's to be sent to the Wall, he'll never marry at all, and if Daenerys' suspicions are correct, she'll someday be given like a trophy, forced into a marriage with little regard for what she wants at all. Life isn't fair, no, and people like them especially have to take what they can get however they can get it.

She sinks down at his prompting, knowing her smile has gone impossibly shy. She's less naive than one might think though by no means truly knowledgeable in these matters, since all of what she knows is intuited and overheard and she's never been able to ask anyone about anything even resembling this; she doesn't expect it to be all up to Jon (she doesn't think she'd be comfortable just letting him take over entirely, at least yet) but she mostly just trusts that they'll figure something out. It can't be so complicated.

Kisses aren't complicated. Laying back isn't complicated. Winding her arm around his shoulders isn't complicated. In the back of her mind, she's wondering if they should worry about undressing, a little bit or all the way, but she doesn't mention it or even allude to it save the way she tugs just slightly at the fabric of Jon's shirt.

[blackbastard]

He feels the pull at his clothing, and Jon reluctantly unattaches his lips from hers to look at Daenerys and make sure that she seems sure about the gesture. She does, and he nods, so he's quickly and less clumsily than he was fearing undoing the laces of the shirt and pulling it over his head. Jon shivers a little, but with the way his blood is pumping and as flush as his skin is feeling, he knows it's not from the cold.

Jon reaches down to her, then stops. A sudden and almost terrifically funny realization strikes. "I, uh... I'm not quite sure how a dress works," he confesses, unable to resist the smile that accompanies it.

[ungentle]

She's sure as anything, and it takes some willpower to keep from running her hands over his skin as soon as it's bared. She holds onto her own hands to suppress the urge, thumbs stroking over each other in something resembling a nervous gesture though she's not nervous in the strictest sense, no. It's anticipation.

And she can't resist returning that smile, finding the fact that he's honest about it somehow charming. "I'll show you," she promises, and she turns just slightly, guiding his hand to the seam along her side. "This one's simple. A few little ties to undo here --" A coy smile as she pulls on the first little bow -- "And then once they're open, off it slips."

[blackbastard]

"Then whatever Gods govern dressmaking are very generous to clumsy types like me," he mutters, before putting his full attention to the task. Sure enough as Daenerys promised, once he's started to pull at the ties, the dress which previously clung to her frame loosened considerably.

Feeling particularly inspired a moment later, Jon starts to tug the garment down off Daenerys' shoulders, leaning down to kiss the pale, soft skin as it's exposed, inch by inch. His lips draw a line down the center of her chest, and he can feel her heart beating through his kisses. When he's got her bare to the waist as well, he sits up slightly, staring in awe.

"Gods, you're beautiful..."

[ungentle]

With a giggle, Daenerys agrees, "It's fortunate. Sometimes it's all little hooks or such things, though I imagine that you'd be able to manage them with enough incentive." To say nothing of corsets -- she's not much for them, and she'll skip them if she can, but she's a woman grown, that luxury isn't always allowed.

She shifts to allow him to undress her a bit easier, instinctively arching up when he begins to kiss her, murmuring, "Oh, oh, Jon," urgingly. All she can think is that she'd be happy to have his mouth on her forever.

The compliment makes her blush, turning her head just slightly to the side to avoid his gaze for a moment -- something like humility, not the pretended modesty of some but instead a genuine confusion about how to respond to such a thing offered so nicely. "Thank you," she whispers, but then she figure it best to just pull him down into a kiss and let that serve as gratitude instead.

[blackbastard]

"If it were you inside," he laughs, "I'd tear my way through plate armor with my bare hands." It's an amusing image and a lightly said thought, but once he actually begins undressing Daenerys, he knows he means it and would doubtless have the strength to do it as well. Incentive is a very small word when he looks at her.

When she kisses him, it's clearly a response to his words. Jon wonders if he should say them again, convince her of how truthful he was. But really, he'd rather just keep kissing her for a bit longer and then move on.

Moving on becomes a question of which one of them will be the first completely exposed, in so many ways, to the other? Jon's instincts, as always, are to be the one that protects and defends and right now, there is no one in the world he cares for more than Daenerys, so the choice is clear. He shifts and turns and fidgets until breeches and smallclothes are cast aside.

[ungentle]

She grins at the idea, at the details of it. "That would be something to see," she says. "It sounds so dramatic, like a poem." Of course, if it was a poem there'd be all manner of fantastic details, not just the simple truth of two people inexplicably connected to each other.

She doesn't mind being told pretty things, but -- no, this isn't the priority. Right now she's trusting her body and his to express what's being felt and that's enough, she can pour all of herself into this kiss and that counts for so, so much.

When he's fully undressed, she can't help it, her mouth falls open -- she's not shocked, it's just that suddenly this has all become even more real. She's marveling at the sight of him, surprised and not surprised at all by the feelings he's able to inspire in her. It's not as if she's never felt indistinct yearnings before, but this very specific, direct lust is somehow so different. "Would you like to...?" she begins, nodding to the rest of her clothing. Somehow she very much wants that.

[blackbastard]

Jon is absolutely stunned that Daenerys' expression on seeing him naked doesn't embarrass or make him the least bit uncomfortable. In fact, the way she looks at him, wide eyed and quiet, makes his heart beat even louder. It makes his blood rumble in his body, much of it flowing downwards in response to his want.

He nods when she asks her question. "Would you think less of me if I said, Gods, yes?" In point of fact, Jon doesn't wait for a response to that. He bends down to repeat the same process, kissing the pale skin that he lays bare as he pulls her skirts downwards. By the time the fabric is over her hips and halfway down her thighs, he pulls it quickly free.

Now it's his jaw that goes slack, his eyes that widen as he devours the sight of her. Daenerys is stunning, in every sense. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely before lowering down and stretching out over her and holding her tightly, trapping his stiffness between them.

[ungentle]

She notices that little detail, too; it brings everything into even sharper focus. They're really doing this, it's really happening, if the wrong people find out they'll think her a fallen woman (not that in her position she has too far to fall). And she couldn't be happier.

"Of course not," she murmurs. "How could I?" But he's already tugging at her dress, already pressing kisses to her skin, and the closer he gets the more she trembles with need.

She's not self-conscious or even strictly speaking shy, but it does unnerve her to watch him watching her with such -- admiration, perhaps? It's a look she likes, but not one she's used to seeing aimed at herself. "Thank you," she says, and she wraps her arms around him, whimpering just slightly at the way their bodies press together.

[blackbastard]

As they descend together, Jon realizes that he has no practical idea of how to lay with a woman. He understands the mechanics, of course, but where the limbs go and how to keep from weighing too heavily on her, and what must be dozens of little necessary adjustments are a complete mystery. And then, Daenerys is laying on the blankets and he is stretched out on top of her.

And they fit. Jon doesn't need to think, or worry. Maybe it's just instinct and nature, but they just seem to fit together so perfectly, and he cannot be happier, especially with the way his stiff length is now trapped tightly against Daenerys' belly.

[ungentle]

Daenerys has picked up on one or two things from the gossip she’s caught, but right now she’s not thinking about it. He feels so right on top of her, she feels so comfortable -- they're in a hayloft, for goodness' sake, it isn't exactly luxurious but right now it's the most comfortable place she's ever been -- and they feel like they belong like this.

She feels her heart jump at the sensation of him pressed so close against her. "You're quite ready," she whispers, giggling a bit and letting her gaze dart down.

[blackbastard]

Jon glances down, too. "How could I not be?" he asks with a smile and the smallest of laughs. "I'm laying naked with the most beautiful woman in Westeros, holding her and kissing her like she's all mine."

His eyes drink in Daenerys again and he resumes doing exactly as he said. Jon holds her tight and kisses her deeply and it's as if he's desperate to prove to her that all he said was true, and that there was nothing in the world he would want more to be doing than making love to her. If he were more clever, more smooth, perhaps there were songs or poems or the like.

But Jon knew action. He would show her. He had to.

[ungentle]

"I am," she answers immediately, without even giving it thought. Right now, in this moment, she is. Without question. Beyond this night, who knew, really; they're both set to have to accept destinies that don't include each other. But the more she turns it over in her mind, the more she suspects that she's telling the truth and not just for right now. She isn't terribly worried about the weight of it.

All Daenerys is in much of a position to do is return the kiss, tentatively wrap a leg around Jon's waist and urge him on with the gentle pressure of her heel. She's run out of words just now, she's just curious where he'll take it.

[blackbastard]

The two words send a lightning bolt through Jon. It wasn't as though there was any mistaking how much she cared for him and how close to him she felt-- for the Gods' sakes, she was laying naked beneath him in a hayloft, ready to give him herself. But to know she was his, even for a single night... there wouldn't be a place on the Wall he couldn't warm with the memory.

He can feel Daenery's leg move and feel her urging him. Jon looks down on her with the plain, open concern he's always shown for her. "Are, uh, are you ready?" That he could hurt her quite a bit if she wasn't, Jon was aware, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

[ungentle]

The single night is the easiest to understand, but then -- there's a part of her that thinks that maybe they've always been meant for this. It suits. It makes sense. It feels like it's supposed to happen, even if they are having to hide away like this.

That, for example: the way he looks at her, the way he cares for her (does anyone else, really? Beyond just the perfunctory ways of doing). He's -- he's always been so good to her, she can't imagine him doing any different now. "I'm not sure," she whispers honestly, and it's the shyest she's sounded yet. She feels like she might be, but then, it's not as if anyone's ever told her what ready really is for women.

[blackbastard]

Jon nods. This time, he's pretty certain that his secondhand knowledge will be close enough to accurate and definitely useful. His hand slips between their bodies-- no mean feat, considering how close he and Daenerys are holding each other. His fingers find their quarry, the soft folds of flesh between her thighs.

She's warm, almost hot to the touch, but not very much what he would call wet. The men were always adamant that would help things along considerably. Hoping that their outrageous claims as to how to arouse a woman quickly and thoroughly were at least a little true, he starts to slide down the bed, kissing the line in the center of Daenerys' body, between her breasts, down her stomach and ending between her legs.

Taking a breath, he began to kiss her as passionately there as he had minutes before her mouth.

[ungentle]

It's odd, Daenerys thinks; she's been feeling excited and the slightest bit needy practically since this afternoon, but while it seems as if men are prepared in no time, it apparently takes a bit more effort for women's minds and bodies to match up. Not for the first time tonight, she wishes she'd had a bit more education in these matters, though she can't imagine where it'd have come from. Lady Stark is polite enough to her (if grudgingly), but Daenerys can hardly imagine her having this talk with her daughters, let alone a fostered once-princess.

But every single though seems to fly from her mind when Jon's mouth reaches her center. She's heard mention of men doing this in passing (they seem to quiet in respect when Sansa or Arya or Lady Stark pass by, but if it's Daenerys on her own their voices seem to get actually louder, as if their bragging would get her eager to transgress with them) but she's not paid it much mind, she couldn't have known how utterly -- wonderfully --

"Oh," she sighs, fisting a hand in the blankets they're laid out on.

[blackbastard]

Even to Jon's untrained ears, that single sound from Daenerys' mouth speaks volumes as far as whether or not he'd made the right choice using his mouth on her. It seems to be a resounding approval along with a strong encouragement to continue. So that's what Jon does, using his lips and tongue as much in the way as he had while kissing her, and the sounds from above him are clearly saying he's doing well.

One thing the men were wrong about, though-- she tastes wonderful, as far as he's concerned, and he could keep this up so long as his jaw holds up. He looks up at Daenerys with an expression that clearly asks, "Good?"

[ungentle]

It's more than the right choice. It's the most wonderful choice she could have imagined, she thinks, it's somehow soothing her nerves and working her body into excitement and -- and it's so intimate. More than once though not often she's heard suggestions (some aimed at her, some just around her) that she or another woman ought to do some man a favor and just "suck them off" or some other awfully crude euphemism, and Daenerys rolls her eyes each time, hurrying away fast as she can. She'd never even think about putting her mouth on someone like this if she didn't care for them.

She thinks she'll have to make Jon feel as good as he's making her feel right now, but she can't be bothered to think too much about it just now, not when she's already so close to floating away with the sensation. When she notices Jon looking at her, she finally gives into the urge she's been trying to suppress and whimpers out a very delighted "Yes."

[blackbastard]

He hears Daenerys say the word "yes", but when combined with the dreamy look on her face and the sound of her voice, Jon's desires turn the word into "more". And so he endeavors to do, moving his mouth faster, his tongue deeper and more firmly. Jon believes he remembers that there's a kind of finish line to this race, but doesn't rightly know what will happen when she gets there.

It does occur to him, though, that it'll be the most pleasing race he's ever seen. The whole mixture of sights and sounds and Daenerys is somewhat taking its toll on him, though. Jon shifts his weight, trying to relieve the hardness that is almost painful.

[ungentle]

"More" is something she wouldn't have thought to ask, but it's the most glorious thing she can think of right now, too. She thrusts her hips against his mouth and spreads her legs yet wider, responding by pure instinct. She can feel the warmth spreading from her belly through her body, she can't hardly control the moans falling from her lips.

"Jon," she breathes, "Yes, keep -- there." She braces one hand against his shoulder, fingertips pressing into his skin so as to urge him on.

[blackbastard]

He feels the hand on his shoulder, hears the urgency and command in Daenerys' voice and Jon wants to crow in satisfaction. Not only is he pleasing her, it seems like he's doing a damn good job of it, and if there is what the lady wants, it's what she'll get.

Jon concentrates his efforts wherever makes Daenerys moan the loudest, drunk on the taste of her, his own lusts temporarily forgotten in his need to satisfy her.

[ungentle]

They're alone, the chance of them being found out is all but nonexistent, but Daenerys is still so startled by the volume of her moans that she tries for a moment to quiet them with her free hand, for a moment almost succeeding before sensation overtakes her so much that she can barely find the will to keep her limbs held any way but where they might fall.

"I -- I think --" Her body feels so wound up tight, shivers and waves of heat rush through her alternately, and all she can think is close.

[blackbastard]

He can feel the tension, pulling Daenerys taut like a bowstring. In his mind, Jon can almost picture her standing on the edge of a great height, but instead of wanting to catch her or pull her back, everything inside of him is demanding he push her right over. And so he does everything he can to do just that, reaching up as he does to find Daenerys' hand, instinctively lacing his fingers with hers so she can squeeze as hard as she likes.