Warm Hands

After Daenerys left Jon quickly fell back asleep due to the exhaustion of nearly dying from hypothermia. But Daenerys couldn't just sleep to distract her mind and she was instead plagued by thoughts. Jon had bent the knee, Viserion was killed and the Walkers are real. But despite the impending doom lurking behind the wall and the hatred and anguish she felt her mind kept returning to the warmth of his hand. The feel of his skin, his touch. The way his gaze made her feel. And then there were the scars. The rough lines carved into his skin that she wanted to reach out and touch. Those were not the type of wounds you receive and walk away from. Did he really take a knife in the heart for his people? Was Ser Davos not over exaggerating?

~

When Jon awoke again it was pitch black but he could already feel the benefits of sleep. His body was less exhausted and the ease of movement was returning. He tried to focus on the individual events of the day, it felt like so much had happened and he'd had so little time to process it all. Thoros was dead. One of the dragons was dead. His uncle had saved him and was now likely dead, for good, too. And... and Daenery's hand. Her warm, soft hand. Suddenly he longed for the fresh night air.

Jon eased himself out of bed and walked to the door, grabbing a cloak before leaving. Slowly he made his way to the deck, careful to keep his movements as quiet as possible. The shock of the air on his skin was a welcome feeling and for a moment he just stood in the silence. The rhythm of the waves sounded like a heart beat or breathing. Like the ocean itself was calmly sleeping. He opened his eyes and walked over to the railing.

~Daenerys awoke to the sound of distant floorboards creaking. She rose from her bed and grabbed a coat before leaving to investigate the source. When she reached the deck she saw the dark large figure looking out over the water. I guess you could say he was brooding, again. The long, dark and wiry hair almost completely blended in with his cloak. He looked the complete opposite of her, his hulking black figure compared to her white silhouette. She moved to walk towards him but her first step caused the decking to creak below her. Immediately Jon Snow turned, surprise registering on his face when he realised it was her. She continued walking towards him. Slowly he knelt down, clutching the railing in order to keep himself upright."Stop, you need to keep your strength," she said hurrying over and reaching for his free arm. Before his knee could reach the deck she pulled him back up."Never thought you'd try and stop me from bending the knee," he chuckled.Daenerys turned to look out over the water, now resting her hands on the railing, one question was plaguing her mind."Those scars," she started tentatively, "Ser Davos was telling the truth wasn't he?" John exhaled loudly."Yes, he was.""You took a knife to the heart and lived?"He paused, "no," was his quiet answer.She turned to face him, confusion apparent."I did not live," he continued.He could see as Daenerys registered what he'd just said."You died," she replied, more as a statement than an answer. A gust of wind pasted by them, ruffling both their cloaks. It moved Jon's enough to expose his chest underneath. He winced at the shock of the air on his bare skin. Daenerys slowly reach out her hand. Moving it towards the parting in his cloak. His skin was warm compared to her fingertips. By touch she moved her hand to trace the scar over his heart. He reached up his own hand to cover hers, gently holding it over his heart."I died, and I was brought back. I don't know why, I don't know what for but I was brought back.""Perhaps I should be dead too," she said, "I'm the unburnt, twice I've been engulfed in flames that did not harm me. But I'm here, and I know why."She moved her hand out from underneath Jons but he reached out and took her hand in his, entwining their fingers as he stared down and their hands. Most of his chest was exposed to the cold air but he didn't seem to notice. Daenerys looked up into his eyes and he returned her gaze after a couple of seconds. And then it happened all at once. He leaned in and kissed her. Softly at first until she leaned into the kiss. It became stronger and more passionate. Her hands made their way up to his neck and his reached around to her back. Holding her against his bare chest. She was almost engulfed by his black cloak. There they stayed in each other embrace as the ship rolled over the waves of the ocean, slowly carrying them through the night.