Work Text:
Daenerys could remember vividly the first time she saw Jon’s scars.
They weren’t together per se, having met a few weeks earlier as she was trying to reach for a flower arrangement on a shelf at the grocery store.
Yes, she used to buy her flowers at the store, unwilling to spend much on something she couldn't manage to keep alive for more than a week.
Jon wasn’t a tall man, but compared to her five foot almost nothing, he managed to tower over her easily. She didn’t think much over their meeting except to recall how handsome the kind stranger was.
That was until she bumped into him at her local animal shelter.
She wasn’t shy, having left it behind with her innocence years before, but somehow he made her feel like an inexperienced teenager with her first crush.
It took weeks of shy glances and innocent flirtation before anything happened.
She giddily remembers how he blushed and stuttered a bit before bracing himself and asking her out for a walk with their dogs. Jon and his albino, Ghost, while she took Drogon.
Fast forward a few more weeks and add a couple of very good dates that were slow going in the physical department - she had her demons and he clearly had his, although those were unbeknown at the time.
They were back at the park, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist bringing her closer as they lay on a blanket, Jon having surprised her with a picnic and, despite the fact the sky was cloudy, she had never seen a night so beautiful.
She’d never felt so at peace.
As it happens, it started innocently enough. She slid the hand caressing his neck down to his collarbone in order to find a better position and went to kiss him as he froze under her and she froze back in response.
“I-I’m hmm, I’m sorry.” She said, feeling her face start to burn from embarrassment, scrambling to sit up and put some distance between them.
“No.” He replied, rushing to gently grab her wrist as he set up, not allowing her to leave his space yet. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
The color she’d acquired drained from her face. Oh! She’d clearly read it all wrong somehow. Why wasn’t the ground swallowing her? She should’ve known she’d ruin it. She was told time and again she was too eager, too much. No one stays.
“I didn’t mean it like it sounded.” He added quickly, using his free hand to put a loose strand from his bun back. “I’m sorry. I haven’t done this… in a very long time. I’m not good at… talking.”
The way the words left his mouth as if they physically pained him made her put her own mortification aside. “Jon…”
“Let me get this out, please. I like you, Dany. Aye, I’m sure you know that. I don't intend to mess this up." He stroked her wrist lightly as he spoke, making goosebumps spread over her entire body. “It hasn’t been long but I suppose, eventually, if I don’t blow this you’ll know.” He gave her a self-deprecating smile, letting go of her wrist to grab her hand, spreading her fingers with his before laying it over his shirt, his heart.
“Oh.” She could feel it instantly. How she’d missed it before a mystery, although they’d kept their few kisses tentative and their hands chaste. She didn’t know what the right words were, wasn’t sure there were any, but she knew she had to say something when she started to feel the silence begin to suffocate and his hand move away from hers. “Jon, I-” She started, voice lower than intended, securing his hand by sandwiching it between both of hers, his heartbeat speeding underneath. “I’m not sure what to say without sounding like a cliché, but you don’t need to tell me anything if you’re not ready. I don’t care if you have a scar. I care about you just the same.”
“Scars. Seven.” He whispered, his other hand gesticulating to his torso.
“One. Seven. Twenty. I like you too… all the parts I’ve been privileged to know so far. Just as I feel I’ll like all the others I haven’t had the chan-“
His lips covered hers, hands moving to get a hold of her waist and hoist her up into his lap. She squeaked in surprise, not expecting it but melting all the same. He hugged her close as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, demanding entrance.
Everything melted away and there was only the feel of him and she wanted more. She wanted everything he was willing to give her, but the small part of her brain still capable of rational thought reminded her they were in a public park and she didn't want him to think to kiss her would be a way to avoid conversation.
Reluctantly pulling away from his mouth but keeping herself comfortable on his lap, she questioned breathlessly “Feel free to say no. I promise I won’t be offended… but can I see them?”
He didn’t immediately answer and as she was about to take it back, ask him to forget she ever asked, he did. “Aye.”
Before she could blink he’d grabbed the hem and pulled his shirt over his head, more black curls escaping his already messy bun due to the sudden movement.
If the moment wasn’t so serious, so delicate, she’d be jumping on him. He was beautiful. Breathtaking.
“How are you still alive?” She asked stunned, not sure it was the right thing to say but it was all her brain seemed able to process. His torso had long, deep red scars from his lower stomach to above his heart. They looked fresh, yes – but what broke her heart more than anything is that they appeared excruciatingly painful. Her hand moved on its own, going to lay over the biggest one, the one over his heart, before she stopped, hands trembling between them. She closed them into fists. She was afraid of hurting him.
“I’ve asked myself that more than once.” He broke her trance and his voice made her avert her eyes from his chest and focus on him. “I don’t know.” He used her distraction to slip the shirt back on. There was insecurity all over his face even if he was attempting to hide it and she’ll do her best to wipe it away in time, but the shame she couldn’t allow. “All my doctors thought me a goner. My family was starting to lose hope when I woke up months after what I later learned were three surgeries and a two-minute flat line."
She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, head turned so her mouth could reach his ear as she hugged him to her with all the strength she had, one hand on his back and the other at the nape of his neck, fingers slipping between his pulled back dark curls, undoing his already loose bun even more. She wanted him to feel how much his presence, his beating heart against hers meant. “I’m so glad you’re alive and you’re here with me. You should never be ashamed of them. They just prove that you’re a survivor. One day I hope you come to see that. I’ll be sure to tell you so until you do. Whenever you’re ready to talk or if you just need someone to listen, you can come to me.”
She thought she’d imagined his whispered words until he told her years later she hadn’t.
“You’re the purest person I’ve ever met. I can’t believe you’re with me. I hope you’ll stay.”
<->
“Jon?” She questioned, focusing on finishing the salad and ignoring how her face was already warming, hands shaking slightly.
“Yeah?”
She could hear the bottle opener hitting the counter, could feel his eyes on the back of her head as he focused on her completely as if whatever she had to say was always deserving of his utmost attention. Just as he’s done since they met four months ago. No matter how inconsequential, he always gave her his complete and undivided attention. “Will you stay?”
“I thought I already was?” He questioned, northern accent thick and making it sound like a gruff but she could recognize the tenderness underneath his confusion.
She took a deep breath and braced her hands on the counter to gather her courage before turning to stare at him. She hoped. Oh, how she hoped she wasn’t pushing too much nor going too fast. “Not just the night.”
“Aye.” He replied instantly. Simple. Straightforward. Jon.
The smile he gave her and the softness in his eyes melted all 206 bones inside her body while all the butterflies took a dive inside her stomach.
She loved him.
She couldn’t deny it anymore.
Nor did she want to.
<->
“Jon, wait!” Dany said, taking hold of his arm to stall his steps. The house behind him suddenly looked three times as big and intimidating and though it had appeared welcoming in pictures her stomach was in knots.
It took a lot of planning for this to happen but it seemed too soon. She wasn’t ready.
“What is it, love?” He replied, looking at her with those chocolate eyes full of love and understanding and she felt slightly foolish.
“It’s nothing.”
She made to walk past him towards the awaiting house before took her face in his hands gently, trying to see whatever it was she decided not to share.
He could always read her like an open book, her walls able to keep out the entire world out if she wished but never him. “It’s stupid.” She mumbled, already knowing he'd be as understanding and patient as ever and if she didn't love him so much she'd hate him for being able to completely disarm her defenses.
“It’s not stupid if it’s something you’re worried about.”
“I… it’s just, what if they, you know, don’t like me?” Avoiding his eyes was a physical impossibility. She’d lose herself in him if only the world would allow it.
“Aye, they might just hate you.” She felt her eyes widen before she realized his were glinting with mischief.
“Asshole.” She huffed.
“I figured I could go with another angle since my original one hasn’t been working.” He replied, lips stretching into a soft smile. One she knew was reserved uniquely for her.
“I hate you.” She said half-heartily.
"No, you don't. My family will love you and it won't be because of how much I love you and how happy you make me. It’ll be for you. You’re impossible to dislike. Your heart is so big, Dany. I know you’re nervous but trust me, you got this. Just be you. I will love you no matter what.”
She hugged him as tight as she could, trying to let him feel just how much she felt for him. Words just didn’t seem like enough.
They’d been together for almost a year now and even if it hasn’t been all smooth sailing, she’s opened her heart to him, barely mended together as it was, and he did the same.
He knew her.
He knew her past, her fears, and her insecurities.
She gave him her heart and he’s done nothing but glue it back together and cherish it.
She’ll hold on to him for as long as she can manage.
People never stay but Jon?
She can’t help thinking Jon just might.
<->
“Daenerys?” Jon whispered as she was about to fall asleep, one hand playing with the ends of her hair and the other tucked behind his own head for support.
“Hmm?” She snuggled closer. She never really felt the cold and despite being all muscle, he was the comfiest pillow she’s ever laid on, especially when it was just his skin on hers.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yeah.”
She's known since she asked him to stay a year ago. Before that even but they weren't ready then.
They are now.
The simplicity of the moment is everything.
The two of them together in their bed in the house they bought to build their lives after spending the day christening all the rooms, unpacked boxes ignored as they lost themselves in each other over and over. “I was starting to think I’d have to ask you.”
“Does that mean I should take the ring back?” He teased.
“You better give me my ring, Jon Snow.” She replied before turning and catching his lips with her own.
She was suddenly wide awake.
<->
“From this day until the end of my days…”
<->
“They’re asking me back.” Jon said carefully.
“What?” She could feel the dread descend on her.
“Not to field action.” He continued as he walked towards her. “A discharge is final, but they need strategy counsel and…”
“And what, Jon?” Each step he took forward she took one back. “We just got married.”
“I know, Dany. I know.” She could see on his face that he was aware she was barely holding it together.
Everything he told her flashed before her eyes. She could see it. She could already hear the knock on her door. The flag they’d deliver. The speech she’d be told. Except it wasn’t her she worried for most anymore. “Do you regret it?”
She knew it was a low blow. She knew it’d get a reaction. The sucker punched look on his face, the pain in his eyes already making her regret losing her temper before he even managed to whisper “How can you even ask me that?”
I’m sorry, is what she wants to say. Instead, she gives into the irrational fear their time is over. Two years, three months and seventeen days – that’s it. No lifetime together. He’ll leave and she’ll be alone. She can do it alone but she doesn’t want to. “What am I supposed to think? We haven’t even unpacked from our honeymoon and you’re ready to leave me behind to go back to a war that almost killed you. It did kill you on that OR table. The same war which nearly took you from me before you were ever even mine.” Her voice breaks. She can feel the tears coming. Not now, she thinks.
“Love, I-” Seeing her pain reflected on his face deflates the fight left in her, allows the tears to fall.
“Don’t love me, Jon." She starts and the sob that escapes catches her off guard. She's hugging herself trying to summon the strength to come out and say it. To summon an anger she can't feel. “You know what? Just go.” Sob. “It’s not like your bag isn’t packed already.” Sob.
“Daenerys, look at me.” Jon is right in front of her, hugging her close and trapping her hands between them, his own gently sliding along her arms, trying to make her look at him. She wishes she could ignore him, but that was never them. They don’t hide from each other. She looks up and he’s a blur through her tears. She blinks to clear her vision, two new teardrops staining her face and Jon wipes them away with his thumbs before continuing. “I told them I’m not going. I’ve fulfilled my duty and I will help as much as I can. From here. I'm not leaving. You asked me to stay once. You’ll never have to ask me again. You’re my wife and you come before all else.”
“I’m sorry.” She’s not sure why she’s still crying but she is. She’s hugging him to her, feeling his warmth, his love, soothe her bones. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” She hiccups. “I just panicked.” She takes a breath and jumps. “Can I blame it on the hormones?”
“What?” If she wasn’t so nervous, she’d smile at his confusion.
She steps back to look up at him but keeps her arms around his waist. “I was planning on surprising you for your birthday next week. I had it all planned, but hell.” She gives him a small, shaky smile. Her heart might burst. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”
She wasn't sure which tears were whose. In the end, she had to ask him to put her down before his spinning made her throw up.
She’d never seen his eyes shine so bright or a smile so big.
She knew it wouldn’t be the last time.
<->
“Jon? Honey, wake up.”
“Hmmm?”
“Wake up!”
“What is it?”
“I need mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
“Dany, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Tell that to your kid.”
“Aye. I’ll be back.”
<->
“Congratulations, it’s a little girl.”
<->
“Jon?”
"Which flavor?"
“Pistachio. Thank you, you’re the best.”
“Anything for my girls.”
<->
“Ouch!”
“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
“It is, but nothing bad.”
“Did she just…?”
“Yeah. She wants to let her papa know she’s here.”
“As if I could ever forget.”
<->
“Jon, wake up!”
“Aye. Flavour?”
“Jon, it’s time.”
“Is that new?”
“Baby time. I need you to move. And then I need you to help me move.”
<->
“Sir, I need you to calm down or we’ll have to escort you out.”
“You just took my daughter away while my wife is lying unconscious on a hospital bed. You just try to get me to leave.”
“I know this wasn’t part of the plan, but you need to give us space to help Daenerys and although your daughter is a little early, as long as she gets the care she needs she should be fine.”
<->
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m your papa.” Jon started as he looked down at his newborn daughter curled into his chest. So tiny. So perfect. A mini Daenerys. “I’m beyond elated you’re here at last. I love you so incredibly much... I-” He could feel his emotions about to overwhelm him. “I bet you can’t wait to see your mama… she’s still recovering.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to be strong. “I’m sure she’s fighting tooth and nail to wake up because you’re all she’s ever dreamed of.” His voice cracked. “You’re all I’ve ever dreamed of and never thought I’d have.” He could only whisper now. “You and mama need to get well soon because I don’t know how to go on if you don’t. Just please don’t leave your old man, ok? Please…”
<->
“Your daughter will be leaving the ICU tomorrow. Have you chosen a name yet?”
“Yes, but I’m waiting for my wife to wake up. How is she today?”
“She’s stable. Her body suffered a lot of strain…”
“When do you think she’ll wake up? It’s been nine days.”
“That is up to her now, I’m afraid.”
<->
“Please, never scare me like this again, love. I thou-“
“Hey, hey. I’m fine, Jon. I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sore but that’s all. How’s our little dragon?”
“She’s doing well. If she keeps improving at the same rate we can take her home in another week or so, just around the time you’ll be discharged. We’ll be going home together. Us and… Rhaella.”
“Rhaella?”
“I know we never picked a name and if you don’t like it, we c-“
“I love it. Thank you. Mom would be so honored.”
<->
“Close your eyes.”
“I have our newborn daughter in my arms. I close my eyes and chances are nothing good is happening.”
“You think I’d risk that? Close your eyes and relax, I’ve got my girls.”
“Fine!”
“Welcome home, my loves!”
“Oh Jon… when did you even find the time?”
“My siblings helped.”
“You’re the best man I’ve ever known. Rhae and I are so lucky to have you. We love papa so much, don’t we baby?”
“No, love. I’m the lucky one. You two are my entire life.”
<->
“Hey papa, you plan on handing Rhae over so I can feed her?”
“Aye.” Jon whispered, giving no indication he planned on moving anytime soon as their daughter had her little fist wrapped tightly around his index finger. “Five more minutes.”
“You said that ten minutes ago, my love.” She said in a low tone, nudging him gently as she sat on the rocking chair’s arm, her hand moving to caress his scalp, his curls slipping between her fingers.
“I know.” He said, kissing the top of their daughter’s head, which was whispers of silver hair, and inhaling her baby smell before leaning back towards her touch. “It’s-” He stopped, took a breath. “Before you woke up and while she was in the ICU the doctor said body heat would help and since I suppose I’m the one that needs to feel her warmth so I can be sure she’s really here. To make sure I didn’t lose her. Just as I need to have you in my arms every night to make sure you’re here.”
“I guess we’re having our first family sleepover. Bring her and I’ll feed her as you hold us both. We’re dragons, honey, you’re not getting rid of us that easily.”
<->
“Are you going to tell me why you suddenly decided to always wear a shirt to bed and around the house or…?” Daenerys questioned as she left the bathroom, watching her husband already in their bed, back against the headboard, glasses on, book open and black shirt on.
Again.
It's been almost three weeks. At first, she thought he may be coming down with a cold and when that proved untrue, she decided to give him time. Jon would always clam up if he felt backed into a corner.
But enough is enough.
It’s been years since he felt the need to cover himself up in front of strangers, much less her. After that night in the park, he never tried to hide his scars even if she could see the insecurity on his face the first few times. His scars had healed some more since she first met him years ago, but for some reason they were still pink, refusing to fade to white.
He closed his book and put it on his bedside stand, a frown taking over his face, letting a comfortable silence fall, as was their usual, before sighing and mumbling “I don’t want to scare her.”
It went to show how well she knew the man she promised to love and spend the rest of her life with that nothing else had to be said for her to know exactly what he meant and for her heart to drop to her feet, shattering at the realization.
She quickly made her way to him, sitting at the edge of their bed, a hand going to stroke his cheek as the other lifted his chin gently so he could look at her as she said, voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “You listen to me, Jon Snow. There is absolutely nothing about you that could ever scare her. Ever. Rhaella is your daughter and she loves you as much as you love her. If anything she’ll love you even more when she is big enough to understand how hard you fought to be here.”
Dany could see how shiny Jon’s eyes were, how he swallowed before replying.
“She’s almost two, love. She’s starting to remember things and I don’t want my scars to be something she can have a chance to fear and have nightmares about. They’re better, aye, but they’re not for a child’s eyes. I don’t want our daughter to have anything but beauty in her life. I don’t want her to fear me. To look at me and see someone other than her father.”
"Gods, Jon. How is it I fall more in love with you every time I draw breath?" She questioned, resting her forehead against his, hands holding his face close as she pecked his lips softly. “Your scars mean you’re alive, that you’ve survived. If that isn’t beautiful, nothing is. I will forever be sorry you suffered what you did, but you’re here and if they are the price then they are the price. You’re beautiful, inside and outside. A few scars won’t change that. If anything Rhae will want to kiss them better.”
“Dany...”
"It's fine if you aren't ready and need more time, but I need you to promise you'll talk to me instead of harboring these feelings inside because they’re not true. If only you could see what I when I look at you, Jon.”
“I love you so much.” The emotion clear in his voice as he hugged her close.
“I love you too, sweet husband of mine. Now ditch this shirt before I burn it and all the others.”
<->
“No move, papa! No move!”
“I’m not, darling. Promise.”
“Good.” Rhaella said with all the authority only an almost two-year-old could muster before running in the direction of her room, silver curls bouncing.
After a couple minutes Jon asked, "You need any help, sweetie?"
“No! No move!”
“I won’t.” He replied seriously, trying to hold back a chuckle.
Another five minutes passed, a flash of silver crossing his vision on the way to the bathroom as he sat at attention, ready to rush to his daughter’s aid should she need it, before she made her way back into the playroom.
She had a box in hand, pillow dragging behind her, her little face scrunched up in concentration and, had Dany been there he’s sure she’d say Rhaella looked just as he did when brooding, despite the fact that she is all Daenerys except for her eyes. Their personality too as they had the same innate kindness and determination.
“Okay, papa. Still and I work on boo-boos.” She said seriously, lifting the lid on the box to reveal cotton balls, gauze, ointment, an assortment of colorful band-aids and her water bottle.
He thought he heard the front door open downstairs, but before he could make sure Rhaella spoke, pointing to the pillow she’d laid on the floor.
“Clean first. Down, pa.”
Gods, he felt his heart expanding just looking at his daughter. He decided to heed his wife’s advice and go back to not wearing shirts around the house, especially now in the high of summer. He may have left the north years ago, but he’s never gotten used to the heat of the south.
As soon as Rhaella woke up from her nap and saw his scars, pinkish and looking much fresher than they really were, she was determined to treat them as he and Daenerys did whenever she got hurt. He didn’t have the heart to deny her, not when she looked as determined as his wife, saying that they didn’t heal yet because it wasn’t done with love and mama says love heals everything.
Behind his spitfire of a daughter, leaning against the doorway was Daenerys, his camera around her neck, one hand resting against her protruding stomach while she used the other to make a shhh motion. Ghost and Drogon trailing behind before making their way to their respective beds. He gave a nod before turning his attention back to Rhaella, so focused on her task of wetting the gauze without getting the floor wet she still hadn’t realized her mama was home.
“Tell me if hurt.”
“You could never hurt me, sweetheart.”
She just gave him her best version of Dany’s disbelieving look before taking the gauze to the first of the seven scars, being so careful for someone so young. Jon never felt luckier in his life, throat closing as emotions threatened to overwhelm him. It was slow going but, eventually, Rhaella wiped all seven of his scars, blowing slowly on each one and asking him over and over if it hurt.
The band-aids were a bit of a struggle for her so he helped her peel and stick each one to his scars. Most ended up with two or three due to how long they were and although his chest resembled a rainbow, he couldn't care less. She caressed each one before dropping a kiss on the one over his heart and hugging him tight with her little arms, sprawling her tiny form over his chest.
“There, pa. Now they good.”
“Papa loves you, baby!” He closed his eyes, kissing the side of her head and inhaling her baby smell before locking eyes with Dany across the room, tears streaming down her face before dropping the camera on the couch and making her way to her family.
Jon would stay like this forever if it meant he could hold his girls in his arms as he felt his son kick against his hand, making sure they remembered that soon he’d be able to join them too.
<->
“Mama?”
“Yes, honey?” Dany asked, stroking Rhaella’s hair away from her forehead as she snuggled deeper under her covers, eyes heavy with sleep and tiny hands fisting her blanket.
“I wanna be doctor.” Her voice was slurring already.
“You can be whatever you wish.”
“I be doctor to help. Papa not hurting more.” She whispered before succumbing to sleep.
Jon always said how much Rhaella was her mini-me, but in moments like these, she couldn’t not see her husband staring back at her. The innate kindness she had only ever seen before in him.
“Goodnight, darling. Love you.” She dropped another kiss on her forehead before getting up. She rubbed her belly, whispering “I need you to stop practicing fencing with mama’s organs, baby. It’s almost bedtime, okay?" Her son gave another quick in response before continuing to move.
As stubborn as his father already, even if Jon would say it’s the other way around.
<->
“Jon?” It was much later that night, her and Jon already snuggled in bed. Despite her ever-expanding stomach, their son always settled whenever she used Jon as her pillow and his hand rested on top of it as if he could feel his father close by and the safety he radiated.
“Yeah?”
“You know what Rhae told me before she fell asleep? That she wants to be a doctor when she grows up so you won’t hurt anymore.”
He was quiet, nothing to indicate he heard her but the shaky breath she could feel leave his chest.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Everything. This life I never thought I’d have. This love I didn’t think I deserved. The kindest and most amazing daughter I could ever have. Our son who isn’t here yet but whom I can’t imagine not loving. Everything.”
“Then I must thank you too since you’ve given me the same.”
They both felt the kick. Their son already didn’t like to be ignored. Between him and Rhaella they’d have their hands full.
“Yeah, we can’t wait for you to join us in a few months.”
“I love you, Dany.”
“I love you too, Jon.”
Another kick.
“And you too, son.”
As if that was all he was waiting for, their baby quieted down, allowing him and Dany to fall asleep.
Together.