Fire Melts Ice : Book One

Align Yourself

Daenerys

She could not stay asleep. As soon as she would drift off, Daenerys swore she heard noises in the hall. She would jump out of Jon Snow's bed and run to the door, throwing it open to be met with darkness. After the 5th time, Daenerys gave up on sleep. Winterfell was cold and damp, the wind piercing through the stone walls and chilling her skin to the touch. She longed for the fur that Jon snow had given her. She felt around in the bed for it, and wrapped it around her shivering body.

The room smelled like him. From the brief moments she had been close to the King in the North, she picked up on his scent. He smelled clean, which was hard to find in men. The smell of cold air had been on him, mixed with the distinct scent of burning wood. His bed was covered with cleanly washed linens, but the wool and animal skins were clearly old and well used. Daenerys ran her fingers over the wood frame of his bed. It was beautifully carved and polished. She wondered if he had done it.

Daenerys shook her head. Why was she getting so lost in thought over this man? She couldn't deny that she instantly felt a connection to him, but she was Daenerys Targaryen. She didn't have time to dwell on men. Although, Tyrion's words kept creeping back into her mind. She did have to marry for an alliance, and she hoped the man she ended up with would be as kind as Jon Snow.

Jon

The sun broke through the tiny window in Robb Stark's room, shining in Jon's face and waking him from his deep sleep. He groaned, peeling his face off of the wood desk that it had been on. Jon felt ridiculous. He had told Daenerys that he wouldn't get any sleep, but in fact he drifted off as soon as his hands stopped writing.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes and got out of the chair. His old body ached from being in the uncomfortable position, and he stretched his back out before taking off Robb's outerwear.

Jon searched through Robb's armoire, desperately trying to find a Stark outfit to wear, but everything was either too tight or too showy. Jon shut the door, knowing he had to return to his own room to get changed.
Making his way down the hall, he climbed the ten stairs that led to his own room. He could hear floor boards creaking on the other side, and knocked twice. No reply. He knocked again, and the door flew open.

"Hello, Lord Snow," a handmaiden said. "Lady Targaryen is preparing for her bath, can I help yee with something?"

Jon reddened at the thought of him almost barging in on his future ally naked. "I came to get some clothes... Is she in here still? Or can I quickly grab something?"

The haidmaden shook her head and opened the door wide for him. "No she walked out to the bathing room. I was headed there now to assist her."

Jon nodded, and walked inside his room. He went over to his own chest, and pulled out his formal Stark leather garb. He shut it and turned towards the door. He stopped.

Daenerys was standing in the doorway, completely nude except for the sheer robe she was holding in her hands that covered her from the waist down.

She didn't move, and neither did Jon Snow. He knew his mouth was open in shock, but he made little effort to fix his facial expression. He couldn't help but stare at her, for she was so beautiful.

Her hair was lose and tumbled over her shoulders and down her body, hitting at all her curves. Her body was still wet from the bath and her eyes were wide and well awake. With her chest visible to the world, Jon couldn't help but wonder if she was cold.

The handmaiden, as if just realizing she was in there, shrieked. "My lady! I was just coming over to assist you! What is the matter? Oh we must put you into your robe!"