Archive of Our Own

"Is this for real? Your dog jumps out of planes too?"

Jon glanced up from where he was checking the schedule for the day— four jumps plus a class to certify his cousin's boyfriend as a solo jumper— nodding to the many photos of his wolf-dog Ghost flying through the air strapped to his harness, tongue lolling out and goggles affixed to his red eyes, as happy in the sky as he was with all four feet touching the ground. "Aye," he answered, coming around the counter to speak with the walk-ins, two young blonde teens and what looked a wayward— uncle? brother? father?— a handsome blond man who hadn't looked up from his phone.

The young blonde girl giggled, shaking her curl head. "No way," she said. "I bet that's photoshop."

Jon smirked, nodding to the TV that cycled their promotional videos on loop, along with flashes of common questions relating to skydiving and parachuting. Just as he did, the video transitioned from a 'Did you know you are more likely to get struck by lightning than die skydiving?' image to video from his cousin as she jumped first, turning to catch and film him and Ghost. "We don't jump from as high," he said. He shrugged. "But he's a former military dog, so he's used to it."

"That's so cool!" her brother, he assumed, laughed. He turned around. "Hey Uncle Jamie! If a dog can jump out of a plane, why can't we?"

"Because your mother says no," the man said. He looked up from his phone finally, flashing a bright high wattage smile. "I'm just bringing them in because they keep insisting. My brother wanted me to pick up some information. Says he wants to do it for his 40th."

"Many people jump for birthdays." Jon hated having to play salesman. Between him and Arya, sometimes he wondered how they stayed in business, but it was what it was. He went over to the desk in the hanger, removing some flyers and their pricing sheet for the man. He briefly explained the reservation process, what they required, and the options available. He smiled sadly at the two kids, who looked ecstatic. "Unfortunately, everyone must be 18 years of age in order to jump."

They went crestfallen. "Oh no!" the girl said, swatting her uncle. "Jamie! You said that we could do it!"

"Myrcella I said nothing." He appeared relieved. "And now your mother won't complain about it."

"It must be so cool to jump and see the mountains and stuff," the boy said. He grinned up, rather round-faced and sweet. "I'm Tommen. I love the North."

Jamie consulted his phone, texting again. "Don't let your mother hear you say that. We're here on vacation." He pocketed the flyers, rolling and crumpling them into his jacket. "Thank you. Come on, let's go back to the hotel."

The two, Myrcella and Tommen, departed, sullen, complaining how if I dog jumped why couldn't they, even if they weren't yet 18, and Jon was relieved they'd left, but also smiling slightly, because so many kids were more interested in skydiving than adults. He checked the schedule again and then his watch, noting that his first jump was supposed to be arriving soon, two women who were tandem jumping.

Arya's messy scribble in the margins told him some basic info she liked to pull for the reservations. For reservation "Naath- 2", they were going to be jumping to celebration just 'milestone' and had never done it before. They wanted a full video and photo package, with the option for a second jump, so there was more time blocked off later in the day if they chose to do that.

He wondered what 'milestone' meant. Could have been anything. He once had an older woman appear to celebrate the death of her husband. "Good riddance to that pile of manure", she'd complained, before she sized him up and wagged her rose-patterned cane at him. "And I want this one, wouldn't mind dying strapped to that hard body, just don't do any funny stuff, don't feel like having a sword poking my back on the way down."

Jon had almost fainted from mortification.

He also noted, curiously, that there was just one little note she'd added. Dragons.

"Dragons?" he murmured, flicking through the schedule, noticing oddly that the same name had booked the same time for three more weeks with 'pending' beside it. He glanced at Ghost, who had wandered over, nosing his hand for pets. he idly stroked the dog's head, scratching at his ears. "What's that about, huh boy?"

"Talking to yourself again?"

He lifted his head, one of their business partners and pilots, Davos Seaworth, coming in from the airfield. He nodded towards the white plane that was sitting out on the tarmac. "Good run?"

"Aye, good enough, wind a little strong, hopefully it doesn't kick up."

Jon consulted the monitor on the other side of the counter, which was filled with various gauges, barometers, and changing numbers and levels. It synced to the Westeros Weather Service, along with their other weather instruments attached to the hanger itself, to check wind speed, direction, and other factors relating to whether they could or could not go up. It also determined their direction, so he focused in on the wind direction, brow furrowing, concerned. "May not be able to do the usual, maybe go over the Wolfswood?"

Rubbing his scruffy jaw, Davos nodded, his twinkling blue eyes lifting up, consulting the hanger ceiling, calculating out their direction to the jump location. "Hmm, could do. Gives a nice view coming down to the landing zone."

"Aye." Dragons, he thought again, wondering what that meant. He turned the book towards Davos, pointing. "What do you think that means, huh? Arya just daydreaming?"

"No idea lad."

"Hmm."

He set the book back by the computer, taking out his phone to text Arya. Do you have everything ready for the 11?"

"Yes!"

Glancing up at the shout echoing through the hanger, he noted his cousin, a tiny little thing laden down with heavy equipment, her voice magnified tenfold courtesy of the metal sound chamber they found themselves in. He did not offer to help her, knowing she would not accept it, and merely focused his attention on the weather, until he grew bored staring at the monitors and pushed to his feet, from where he'd sat down at the computer, and went to help Arya prepare for the guests.

He got the paperwork together, attached it to clipboards, made sure the DVD with the safety video was set up, and went to double check the chutes, when Arya singled that she had completed them. It was therapeutic to him, crouching and sitting on the floor, going through the familiar motions as comfortable to him, as second-nature as breathing. He checked, double-checked, and triple-checked. The ropes, the clasps, the harnesses, and the chutes. Primary, secondary, he thought, and picked up the iPad where they documented all their safety reviews, checking and signing off that he had reviewed Arya's work.

The file went into the system, where they could provide it to the safety board who did their inspections for their various licenses at a later date. He sighed, lifting the packs and taking them to the table where he would do the demonstration and various safety briefings. Ghost followed eagerly, tongue out, waiting something. "What? he asked, glancing at his shadow. He reached into a tin nearby, for one of the hundreds of treats scattered throughout the complex. "Here."

Ghost snatched it up, swallowing whole, and sat down, but before he could beg for another, his head whipped to the open bay door, watching a car driving up the long winding drive from the road. He tossed his head back in silent bark, raspy, and took off, the white plume of his tail furiously waving in the air, to greet their guests.

Jon rubbed his palms on his thighs, walking over to the counter. Arya had disappeared, so he supposed he would check them in. "I'll be by the plane," Davos said, trotting off to do his own pre-check before they took off.

"Aye," he mumbled, idly leaning against the counter, watching Ghost. One of the two women who climbed out of the car, a tall, beautiful woman with a curly black afro and caramel colored skin, laughing when he started nosing at her hand. "He's friendly, don't worry."

"He's so sweet!" she exclaimed, kneeling to Ghost's height, rubbing his ears. "Oh and also very soft."

The tall woman was wearing a set of matching purple spandex yoga pants and jacket, printed with swirls of teal and pale purple butterflies. She wore a purple headband holding back her hair from her face. She gestured towards Ghost, who finished getting his attention from her and meandered over to her companion, who was slower than her, still not around the side of the car before Ghost met her.

For all the expensive technology and equipment they invested in to maintain a check on the temperature and winds, the cheapest barometer Jon owned came in the form of Ghost, as he’d found the pup on the side of the road in a snowstorm. He was magic, because he could tell the intentions and personality of anyone, and he was never wrong. For this reason, he watched as Ghost approached the other woman slowly, his head cocked, and then sidled up to lean hard on her knees, his ruby eyes closing to slits, head pressing to her hand, exhaling hard.

Curious, he thought, as that was a sign Ghost didn’t just like the person, he trusted them. The woman had not even uttered a sound. He scanned her, gaze sweeping up and down her tiny frame. While the first woman was slight, he saw her curves of muscles in her arms and legs, and in the second woman, he noted that she wasn’t just slight, she was closer to frail, her collarbone peeking from her jacket, her hands thin, the pale blue veins popping out bright against her pearly white skin. Her hair was silver, braided and curled over her shoulders, like spun silk.

When she lifted her smiling face from Ghost, he was greeted with a pair of sparkling lavender eyes, wide, curious. There were faded bruises underneath them, like she hadn’t slept in a long time. Her cheekbones were high, her lips pale pink and pulling over her teeth in a kind smile. “Hello,” she called, her accent soft, lilting.

Valyrian, he recognized, not unlike the other woman’s, but rounder, more…upper crust, he thought. He nodded briefly to her, lifting his hand slightly in a stupid wave, his cheeks warming at his awkward behavior. He swallowed hard, ducking his head. “Hello,” he said, glancing between the two women. “I’m Jon, one of the instructors here…I’ll be diving with you this morning.”

“Diving, it sounds so cool, like we’re going underwater instead of in the sky,” the tall woman laughed, reaching around to take her friend’s shoulders, squeezing her upper arm. She was beaming, rocking on her fancy sneakers, and clearly the one who was most excited about this. There was always one, he thought, dragging their friends with them. In his experience, it was the quiet ones who screamed the loudest when they dropped, and who were laughing hysterically when their feet touched the ground, desperate to go back up. She reached to ruffle her friend’s hair. “Right Dany?”

Dany, he thought, turning and leading them into the hanger, it was a nice name. He went around the counter and withdrew the clipboards. “Here you both are, tons of paperwork to fill out.”

“I already did,” Dany said primly, reaching into a tattered notebook she was clutching in her hands. It had seen better days, the notebook, the pages swollen from constant turning, wrinkled and stickers and writing smattering the cover. The papers were in order, typed out, and her signature neat and tight on the bottom lines. She lifted her chin, daring him, her eyes flashing. “You can go over them, but there’s no problem.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth, chuckling. “Alright. Um, Ms.…”

“Targaryen.”

“Targaryen,” he drawled. He glanced at the other woman. “And you are…”

“Missandei Naath, I made the reservation, but everyone calls me Missy. I am not as well-prepped as my friend, so let me take a seat.” She smirked at Dany. “I’ll just…go over there.”

Jon set her papers down, smoothing his hand over them. He pointed towards the refreshment bar. “If you want something to drink, we have coffee, tea, and water over there, but I suggest not loading up too much. Nothing worse than getting ready to jump and all you can think of is how you have to…” He trailed off, cheeks warming, and closed his eyes. How embarrassing, just shut your mouth Snow. “Nevermind.”

Dany smiled, holding her notebook tight to her chest. “I’ll go sit with Missy then.” She met Ghost’s red gaze. “Come on boy.”

“His name is Ghost.”

“Ghost, very fitting.”

He watched his dog—part wolf, but he didn’t say that, so he didn’t frighten anyone way—trot at Dany’s side, stunned at how he was taking to her. He was good with strangers, but never got so close to someone he had just met so fast. He wondered what was up with that but tore away his gaze from her to the paperwork, picking up a pen and going over it, taking note of everything he needed for the session.

Daenerys Targaryen, that’s what her name was, and she was from King’s Landing, according to her address. She had never skydived before, she had no significant health issues they asked about, which might preclude her from skydiving like pregnancy, heart conditions, or back and neck issues. She was capable of holding up her weight on her feet, clearly, for when they landed back on the ground. Her emergency contact, not someone who was on the trip with her, was Viserys Targaryen, her brother, who also lived in King’s Landing. He checked off everything that she’d noted, slipping the papers into a folder for her, hopefully she’d be back as a repeat client, and then texted Arya to let her know their new clients had arrived.

Be there in a sec.

Jon collected Missy’s papers when she had finished, along with payment, swiping the credit card she offered, and glanced back at the schedule. “Oh, sorry, meant to ask, but you said this is for a milestone?” He blinked, curious. “What kind? We just like to know, for the video and stuff.”

Missy hesitated, the smile on her lips fading, and her eyes flicked to Dany, who was on the plastic mats near the parachute packs, playing with Ghost, and laughing. It was a gorgeous sound, he noted, reminding him of windchimes. “Well it’s just Dany always wanted to do this. It’s kind of an important personal thing.” She shifted on her feet, eyes widening. “Dragons. That’s the key thing.”

“Dragons?”

“Yes, she loves dragons, she always…” Missy chewed her bottom lips, shrugging. “It’s on her family’s seal, she grew up in a place called Dragonstone, she just really loves them, so since she can’t fly a dragon, skydiving is the next best thing.”

“Flying on a dragon?” he asked, quiet.

“Don’t make fun!”

“I’m not.” If anything, his heart leaped up in his throat, because it was just…it was so nice to think of it like that. Not just a crazy adventure, but something imaginative. When he was little, he used to think he was one of the famous dragon kings, and with a name like Targaryen, Jon knew she descended from them. The silver hair and purple eyes, the Valyrian accent, dead giveaway before he even knew a thing about the dragon ideas. He smiled politely at Missy, who was scowling, defending her best friend against any perceived slight. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

One of the doors to the offices opened, slamming shut as Arya banged out, screaming, her voice booming out in the hanger. “So who’s ready to jump out of a plane?!”

“Me!” Missy shouted, jumping and grabbing Dany’s hand, helping her off the floor. Jon noted, wondering if Arya saw it, how Dany stumbled a bit, and then grabbed hold of Ghost, who appeared at hers ide, for support. She went over with Missy, Arya gathering them in front of the television and chairs, starting their safety briefing.

He put away the papers, radioed to Davos to be ready, and went over to look for jumpsuits that could fit both of them. It took a minute, but he rooted until he found the one he had in mind, taking it off the hanger and smiling at the item. It was black, with red piping and design over the front, complete with red zipper. He chewed his bottom lip, glancing towards the small woman listening to Arya, on the edge of her chair, and smiled, thinking she might like it. The Targaryen colors were black and red. He heard a huff behind him, glancing over his shoulder at Ghost, who might has well have shaken his head in disgust. “What?” he mumbled. “I’m just being nice.”

He slung the suits over his shoulder, grabbing goggles and went back over to Arya, who had started going over all the safety features of the parachutes, pointing out everything they needed to be aware of during the jump. He set everything in his arms on the table, listening to Arya explain in detail about the harness and where the most important thing of all happened to be—the pull for the parachute.

"Don't forget that," she snarked.

Dany lifted her hand, like she was a student in class, and then gestured towards the harness. "Will we be pulling it ourselves?"

"Oh aye," Arya said, nodding eagerly. "It's the best part! But don't worry, there's another pull for Jon or me, plus backups, but don't worry about that." She held her finger out. "This is the most important signal. We can't hear each other up there, no matter how hard you shout, so hand signals are a must. This is pull. When Jon and I give you that signal, pull this..." She pointed again to the release. "And off we go!"

She nodded smartly, eyes wide, and absorbing everything, while Missandei jumped up to start trying on the harness. "Wait a second," he said, lifting the jumpsuits. He nodded to Missandei's yoga clothing. "You're good for that, if you don't want the jumpsuit, it's entirely up to you."

"I think I'll be good, I run hot."

"It gets freezing up there," Arya warned. "In the thirties for sure."

Missandei shrugged, foregoing the jumpsuit, but Dany stepped forwards. She was wearing black running leggings and a long-sleeved active dry black shirt, to go with her black jacket. Her shoes were black and red. Given the Targaryen connection, he had to root around, but when he lifted up the jumpsuit, he saw her eyes light up, even if it didn't quite show on her serious face. "Thought you might like this color scheme," he said, voice quiet. He held it up and frowned at the cuffs. "Might be a bit big."

"Everything is on me."

He smiled and handed it to her, nodding to Missandei and Arya, who were babbling together and going through the harness fitting. "You'll jump with me. It's a weight distribution thing. That alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, lifting her face up as she zipped up the suit. She smiled briefly. "You're the expert here. I'd rather make sure the person I'm jumping out of a plane with knows what they're doing."

He smiled. "I do, don't worry."

"I know, I did a lot of research, this place had the best reviews and your experience was unmatched compared to the other skydiving centers around Westeros."

He cocked his head, picking up the goggles to gesture for her to come forward, so he could fit them around her face properly. He tugged on the strap, moving to place it around her head, but she snatched them, saying nothing at his surprised look, and set them around her head herself. He cleared his throat, moving to make sure they fit to her face properly. "Not too tight," he advised, when she moved to pull the strap tighter. He chuckled. "When we're free-falling, you don't want your only thought to be how uncomfortable the goggles are because they're embedding themselves in your eyes."

She smiled at that, which he was pleased about; she was so serious. "Hadn't thought of that," she admitted reluctantly, taking them off. She hesitated, shifting on her feet. "When we're falling....can I...put my arms out..." She gestured, her arms going out to her sides.

He nodded. "Aye, that's fine, if you can remember to do it. Never know where your mind is going to go when it realizes there's nothing beneath your feet." He grinned. "My first time jumping, one of my squad mates thought for sure he was going to be screaming and yelling....when he went, well, turns out his brain was in the flight mode. He was screaming in tears." Then again, Grenn could be an asshole, so they had laughed at him when they got to the ground.

Dany pet Ghost, who came back over, when Jon got down on the floor with the harnesses. "How do you get him to go?"

"Lots of training, but he's a good lad, has always been at my side."

"Does he still jump?"

"Sometimes, aye, but he's retired from military life, like me."

She glanced around the hanger, at the blown up images of their clients in various stages of jumps. She cleared her throat. "Do you teach solo diving? Like...if I wanted to learn to do it on my own."

"Aye," he said, drawling out the word to two syllables, pondering it. He didn't get many people asking about that. Couldn't remember the last time they'd had anyone get their license solo. Not many people in the North were interested in it. He cocked his head, pausing on the harness straps. "But...you live in King's Landing, aye? It's based here."

"That's fine, I would prefer to learn from the best. " She smiled again, soft, voice dropping. "I would prefer to learn from the best....as it seems you are."

He liked to think so. He smiled up and stared at her a moment, trying to wonder why someone seemed to have such equal parts excitement and sadness about them. After a moment, he tore away his gaze, flushing deep red, Arya shouting at him to hurry up, she'd already gotten Missandei fitted. "Alright," he said, gesturing for her to step into the harness. "Let's get you fitted here." He nodded his head to the side. "Put your hand on my shoulder for balance if you need it."

Dany stepped her feet into the harness and he stood, lifting it up over her fluidly; he was used to all manner of individuals, doing this as long as he had, pressing against him. You got comfortable super-fast because you had to be; he'd been strapped to women, men, young and old, and it never affected him. It was awkward for many people, who weren't comfortable being so close to a stranger, but when he and Arya explained that that's what tandem skydiving was— and you wanted to be strapped tight to the person who was licensed and knew what to do in an emergency when you were free-falling 13,000 feet from a plane— they sobered up fast and got over any uncomfortable feelings.

It was terrifying to him then, and baffling, why his skin prickled and his heart began to race, his breath catching tight in his throat when he was face to face with her, so intimately close. She lifted her face up to his and her gaze darted quickly away, breath held in her throat; he wondered if she was feeling the same, given how she was trying not to look at him. What the fuck Snow? Get. It. Together.

He lifted the harness over her shoulders and clipped it across her chest and hips, careful not to touch her any more than he had to, to get the sizing right. As he moved around behind her, he caught a whiff of her shampoo or some other body lotion or soap scent, lavender and jasmine wafting up. It conjured images of relaxation, softness, and oddly to him as someone who did not like anything truly tropical or hot— the beach or jungle. Something...wild.

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, throat tightening as the scent tested his focus. He had to be on his game. This was literally life and death. "Comfortable?" he asked, leaning his face around to catch her expression. She nodded quickly, hands lifting up to the straps over her shoulders. "Alright. That's step one. Come on over here."

They went to the center of the mat, where Arya was already working with Missandei to get strapped up to her, seated on the floor like they would be on the plane. "The video said that we get in the plane backwards, is that true?" Dany asked.

"Aye, it's just an easier way to deplane, more natural movement." He grinned up. "Besides, your adrenaline starts to rise, not able to see where the plane is actually going."

She laughed softly. "That's one way to think about it, I suppose." She licked her lips, voice dropping again. "I've wanted to do this for a long time. I'm really excited."

"Your friend definitely is." Missandei was laughing hysterically now at something Arya had said, the two of them clearly getting along.

Dany rolled her eyes. "She's been looking forward to this more so because her boyfriend is a huge adrenaline junkie, but he's kind of afraid of heights."

"Actually, lots of people afraid of heights are fine skydiving."

"Well, don't tell him that, or her. She's looking forward to rubbing Grey's nose in it."

He lifted his brows, getting into his harness and the parachute itself. "And you're celebrating a milestone? That's what Missandei said, when she checked you guys in." He focused on her eyes, which he'd noticed in the short time they had been chatting were her most expressive feature. Sure enough, they tightened at the corners, her lips following, and she nodded curtly. When she didn't elaborate, he nudged slightly. "I know it isn't your birthday or anything, since I did see your paperwork, but if it's big enough to celebrate by jumping out of a plane, I hope we can make it truly memorable for you."

She relaxed, when he did not continue to push, and looked down at her hands, which had begun to tug at the harnesses’ black nylon webbing. "It's kind of personal, but...it's a big thing for me."

"Well I'll shut up."

"No," she said, almost the same time as him. She forced another smile. "It's just a thing." She ran her hand over the jumpsuit, smiling wider. "Thank you for finding one that is red and black. It's my family's colors."

"Aye, I know." He grinned again and when she returned it, he nodded towards the floor. "Come on, let's get this fitted." She crouched down, awkwardly moving towards him. He sat down, his legs in a 'v' and she scooted backwards so her back was flush to his chest, nestled close.

We fit perfectly.

It was a key and a lock, a puzzle piece finding its mate, and she settled so close to him, so notched perfectly, he had to hold his breath a moment. It was silly, to think of it in such grand ways, but he did, his arms falling around her. Under his chin, her hair brushed lightly, and tickled, that flowery, jungle-scent consuming him again. He took a deep breath, shakily letting it out and focused at the task.

After a few silent moments, filled only with the metallic clang of clips and the soft whisper of the nylon through the clasps, he had her situated how he wanted. "Alright," he said; over to their side, Missandei and Arya were practicing the jump motion. "When we get up, we follow a simple jump sequence. Out, in, out."

"Out, in, out."

"Exactly." He held onto her arms and gestured, pushing her forward. "Out." Pulled back. "in." And then pushed forward again. "Out."

"And off we go."

Her voice had quickened, accent a little thicker, excited. He grinned wide. "Aye. Off we go."

Dany turned her head up towards him, her face filled with the excitement she'd been tamping down, keeping reigned in, and her lips pulled wide over her teeth. Her breath was wondrous, curious. "And then we fly."

It tickled his nose, her whispering words, and he nodded, whispering back. "And then we fly."

Their gaze met again; he wished he could see what was going on behind those purple shutters; closed off to him. She turned her head and held her arms out, testing the movement. "It's a little loose, is that alright?"

"Aye, it's going to stay loose now, but when we're hurtling out of the plane..." he trailed off, letting her conclude that it would be tight then. He went through a few more motions with her, signals and instructed her to keep her legs in a certain form as they fell down through the air, between his, and went over more safety guidance.

When they finished, he unclipped her, and hopped to his feet, offering his hand. When she stood up, he noticed she bobbled a moment, getting balance. She said nothing, and neither did he, glancing over her head to Arya, who had concluded with Missandei. He offered a thumbs up. "Ready?"

"Ready," she called, giving a thumb's up in response. She clapped her hands together, rubbing them and grinning. "Alright, we just need our photographer and off we go!" On cue, a truck came to a squealing stop in front of the hanger, and her brother— Jon's cousin— Rickon tumbled out, hoisting his camera bag. She waved. "Oi! Idiot! You're late!"

"No I'm not, I'm right on time." Rickon tossed a cigarette into the bin by the door, fumbling with his camera bag and equipment, with half a jumpsuit tied around his waist and his Go-Pro stuck on his helmet. His wolf-dog, one of Ghost's littermates, Shaggydog, jumped out of the bed of the truck and went to a bed near the counter, curling up and passing out, not even bothering to say hello.

Ghost sniffed, disapproving of this inhospitable behavior. He followed them over towards the exit, while Jon went to collect his and Arya's helmets and goggles from the locker, glancing towards Dany again, while he prepared the equipment. She seemed more animated, Ghost not letting up at her side, and after a few minutes of introductions with Rickon, she she was laughing at something his occasionally wayward cousin had said, gesturing to her jumpsuit when he made a motion to flap his arms, like wings.

He finished up his tasks, trotting over to join them. "Alright, ready?" he asked her, grinning. Even he could get excited for each jump. It was truly an addiction.

She nodded eagerly. "Your cousin was saying that there's something called wingsuit jumping?" She held her arms out to the sides. "Where the suit literally looks like wings?"

He scowled at Rickon, who had lit another cigarette before the jump, smoking it while he went to collect his parachute pack. "Well....yes, but you have to do it solo, it's a separate license. It's more difficult, it gives you more lift, you see."

Dany cocked her head, undeterred. "Is this something you can teach? Can I get licensed for this?"

"Um, sure...I can..." He never had anyone look into that. Couldn't even remember the last time he'd jumped in a wingsuit. he laughed, pointing up to the sky. "Let's get you on this one first. We'll talk."

"Of course." It was clear from her reluctancy she was not done talking about this. He had no doubt, as interested as she was in the entire concept of skydiving. Wingsuit diving...it was probably the closet she truly could get to flying like a dragon.

They went off towards the plane, Davos jumping out from the bay, saluting. "Welcome, welcome!" he called, offering his hand. "I will be your pilot this afternoon, name's Davos." While Davos went over getting them into the plane, Jon removed Ghost's goggles, affixing them to his face, the white dog hopping in and to the co-pilot seat, where Jon adjusted him in his own harness.

Missandei screeched. "He's coming with us!"

"Good luck charm, Ghost always flies with us," he said.

"This is insane. Dany, how did you find this place?"

Dany met his eyes, from where Davos had directed her to sit, waiting for him to come up behind her. He was working with Arya and Missandei to clip them in together. "Luck, I suppose," she said softly. He hardly heard her.

Jon smiled, turning towards Rickon, pushing him back slightly. "Oi, when we go first, I need you to make sure you get video of not just the jump, but her arms going out. Focus as best you can, aye?"

"Birthday or something?" Rickon asked, snapping the chinstrap on his helmet, reaching to make sure the GoPro was seated right. He consulted the camera in his hands, nodding when the video came up. "I've got Bran on the ground, he'll be here in a few."

"He better be at the jump site, if both of you fuck this up," Jon warned. Sometimes his younger cousins could really be annoying, wandering in their own worlds. They didn't have to pay either a lot to be their photographers, so he supposed he literally was getting what he was paying for. He just knew this was a big deal for Dany. He wanted it to be special for her, for whatever she was celebrating or commemorating.

It was important.

And gods knew why he was taking it so personally.

Rickon nodded, serious. "Sure. He'll be here."

"Alright." Jon jerked his head to the plane. "Get seated."

They waited for Rickon, who would jump first, then him and Dany, and then Arya and Missandei. He climbed in behind Dany, attached everything, and tugged her close. "Ready?" he asked her, leaning around, Davos slamming the door shut.

Dany laughed, high and bright, saying something in Valyrian he didn't understand.

"Dracarys."

The wind was always the thing that made it realer for people. Not the parachute, not the suit, not flying up, it was when you threw open the door, the wind blowing into the plane, your brain realizing suddenly that planes shouldn't have open doors or windows, that you needed to save yourself, perhaps even panicking and going into its flight or fight mode. That was usually when people started screaming, laughing, or a combination of both.

Dany had been silent, the entire flight up, while Missandei was shouting over the plane engine to talk to Arya, and double check with Rickon about the video. Jon imagined that his heart beating was double-time, tandem with Dany's. He caught sight of her face in the brief reflection from one of the windows, and saw the awe there, being so high in the clouds.

They only went up to about 10,000 feet, but that was still hard for the brain to comprehend. She gripped the harness, her red gloves pulling taut on her knuckles. He leaned in and said as loud as he could without hurting her ears, but quiet enough that the others wouldn't hear. "Ready?"

She nodded fast.

The signal given, Rickon had already thrown open the door, and signaled to him and Arya. He whooped as he rolled out of the plane, easily falling back, the Go Pro capturing when Jon signaled to Dany. He pushed her forward, then pulled back, and then....

It was cold, the air stinging his cheeks, his eyes momentarily watering in the goggles, but adjusting fast. It whipped up at the jumpsuit, their heavy bodies plummeting towards the earth. It was always beautiful to him, always a new experience, no matter how many times he did it, scanning the horizon, seeing the mountains in the distance, the tiny little houses and towns below, the wide expanse of the Wolfswood on the edges of the flat fields that stretched underneath.

He pulled back, giving Dany the room she needed, her legs between his, the two of them free-falling. It only lasted fifty seconds, which was over in the blink of an eye, simultaneously, it lasted forever. Or rather, he hoped it lasted forever for her.

Arms slow to move, they did, stretching out and he slipped his along with hers, unable to hear the screams or the sounds she might have been making, because he was focused on his role as the instructor here, wanting to make sure it was all she'd dreamed, but also a safe experience. He could see Rickon, who downright flew through the sky, and eventually his parachute deployed, a snarling wolf that looked like Shaggydog on it.

He reached his hand around to Dany, giving her the signal, and she lifted up, and tugged. It went out, snaking from his pack, the chute deploying, tugging them backwards, slowing their hurtling descent through the clouds, their bodies pulling into vertical position, suspended above the world.

Flying.

The wind had let up the lower in altitude they dropped, and he reached his hands up to direct them towards the landing zone, which in the interest of their 'wolf' theme, had the outline of a wolf head cut into the grass. He heard her laughing now, uncontrollable, and grinned himself, caught up in her elation.

And then he heard it.

The wondrous gasp, tearful. "I'm a dragon!"

You're a dragon, he thought, tugging on the handles, pulling them closer to the right, and eventually signaling to her to pull her feet up slightly, as the ground grew closer and closer, until they were upon it, and he hit his boots down, tilting backwards, scuffing heels and then hers touched next.

He released her from the harness, and unclipped the chute, pushing his goggles up, turning fast to starting reeling in the chute, as he saw Arya and Missandei were making their descent, touching down beside them. Missandei was screaming so loud, he could hardly make out anything, and he turned, once he'd gathered up the chute, taking in Dany.

She was standing, her arms wrapped around her, face to the sky. The goggles had formed a faint red line around her eyes and across the bridge of her nose, her face lifted to the sky she'd just flown through. Her shoulders had slumped, relaxed, and her hands folded in front of her, a pose that resembled praying.

It was personal, so he said nothing, but caught Bran's eye, his cousin giving a thumb's up that he had captured it, and Rickon already consulting the video that he'd taken, whooping in a manner suggesting he was pleased with it. He signaled Arya, who signaled back that all was good, Missandei laughing hysterically and saying how she wanted to go again, that it was thrilling.

And meanwhile, Dany remained still.

He slowly stepped towards her, lightly touching her elbow. She turned quickly and grinned wide, the sadness, the pain he briefly saw in her lavender eyes hidden with happiness. "That was amazing!" she laughed, jumping and throwing her arms around his neck, the harnesses clinking and clanking, weighing them down. She was so small, he thought, his arms looping easily around her, and he feared he might break her. He didn't like hugging; affection wasn't really his thing unless it was telling Ghost how much he loved him.

Except he held onto her, knowing she needed it. "I'm glad," he murmured. He let go only when she did, falling back to his feet, gazing down. "You can officially say you are a dragon, Dany."

She wiped at her eyes, tears trickling out of the corners, nodding again. "Yes. Yes, I'm a dragon." Her hands grabbed his, clutching, squeezing. She gasped, breathless. "Thank you. Thank you Jon. You have no...no idea."

I think I might. It was the same feeling he'd had when he left the military. A sense of living again. He wondered what milestone she was celebrating, and nodded quickly, letting go of her, watching her rush to Missandei, sobbing and clutching her friend, who held onto her tight, no longer laughing and joking, but providing support.

Arya walked over, pulling on her parachute. "What's that about you think?"

"I don't know, but it's her business."

He waited for them to finish, gesturing for them to walk back towards the hanger, while Rickon snapped a few other shots of them, Missandei and Dany hugging, mugging for the camera, and celebrating their jump. It was an exhilarating feeling, one he knew that at least one of them— if not both— would want to do again.

"Ready for round two?" he teased, when Dany separated from Missandei, who trotted over to inspect the photos and video.

"Oh, I want to do that forever," she sighed, lifting her face up to the sky again. She giggled girlishly. "It was amazing." Her gaze dropped down to his, crinkling and her smile spreading over her entire face. The bruises under her eyes had faded away, she no longer had the sickly look from earlier, when he'd first shaken hands with her. "Thank you so much. Truly."

He felt warm and prickly all over, his heart light. "It's my job," he mumbled, awkwardly. He gestured for her to walk ahead, back to the hanger, and he lagged back, finishing up with Arya with the chutes.

About half an hour later, their videos downloaded, photos printed, and sent, and with a declination to jump again that day— but Dany verifying she would be back next week, same time, and also wanting to start her lessons for solo diving, Jon was reluctant to say goodbye to her. He finished up with their paperwork, folding in the certificates they got for their first jump— a little souvenir— while Missandei chatted with Arya. He placed the folders in clear plastic bags for each of them, stamped with the Diving Wolves logo, and like he always did, thanked his marketing genius of a cousin Robb for getting them into the whole thing so he didn't have to.

He set the bags on the end of the counter, scanning the hanger, wondering where Dany was. And Ghost too; Davos had already landed and was doing his post-flight checks. He took one of the bags, peeking around the open hanger doors, and after a moment, found her sitting on a bench near the back, Ghost seated next to her, his fluffy head resting on her shoulder, watching her write in her battered notebook.

Jon took a moment to study her, out of the jumpsuit, and marveled at how small she looked. He shifted on his feet, the action causing some dried leaves under his boots to crunch. He cringed; it sounded like breaking glass. It forced her head up and she closed the book. "Um, sorry to disturb, but..." He thrust the bag at her. "Some goodbye gifts."

"Not goodbye." Dany smiled up at him, Ghost moving away from her to jump down to rub at his legs. She stood and took the bag, before edging around him, towards the car. Missandei was honking the horn, calling for her. She turned away and beamed, her face a bright ray of sunshine. "Just later."

He smiled back. "Later," he murmured. He'd see her next week, of course. He lifted his hand in a silent wave, and she waved back, hurrying to Missandei.

Their car turned, ambling down the drive towards the main road, and in the dust kicked up from the tires, he saw her hand out the window, drifting along, like she was still flying.

Ghost whined next to him. He scratched his head, softly whispering, to himself. "Is it next week yet?"

The following week, Jon was counting down the seconds until Dany appeared, this time unaccompanied by Missandei. She was in a red and black outfit, her silver hair in a thick braid down her back. "It got in my eyes a bit last time," she had laughed, when he mentioned it to her.

"Mine too," he teased.

They jumped that time, with Arya providing the photographs, and once again her arms came out, flying through the atmosphere, and once again, when they landed, she had gone off by herself to take a moment and then she had written in her notebook. She thanked them, spent a few hours hanging around the hanger while he worked with some other people who arrived, including his sister-in-law Margaery who showed up with a gaggle of her girlfriends to celebrate someone's birthday.

She left after he returned from that jump, Arya making a comment "she seemed a little curious about Marge, a bit jealous even, until I said that she was married to Robb." Arya laughed at his flush and mumbling over how it was nothing. "I think she has a crush on you Jon."

"Shut up," was all he could come up with.

The second week, just like the same. She arrived, they went over everything, and started her actual lessons as a solo diver, which were heavy on safety, physics of flight, and body positioning. He noted how she was a good student, always taking notes and listening with rapt attention.

"I meant to ask you," he said, after the lessons, when they left the tiny classroom to get a cup of coffee at the little kitchen they had in the back of the hanger, near the offices. "What is it you do for a living? You aren't flying back and forth to King's Landing every week, are you?"

She had hesitated at that and then shrugged. "I'm kind of working from home a bit. I used to be a teacher." Then she changed the subject, asking about how Ghost could go up in the plane and how he had trained his dog to actually jump out of a plane with him. He hadn't thought much about it until later that evening, when he flicked on the television and caught sight of a silver-haired man on the news.

"Dr. Rhaegar Targaryen, renowned psychiatrist, has been chosen by the Prime Minister to become the next Minister of Public Health. Targaryen is one of three remaining Targaryens, who trace their line back to Aegon the Conqueror, who established the United Provinces of Westeros, previously known then of course as the Seven Kingdoms...."

So she had money, he had thought, which he figured at least. It wasn't cheap, skydiving lessons and all. Jon had flicked off the television and moved on, wondering about the next time he'd see Dany.

So the third week, four in total, since the first time he met her, Jon decided after their jump and their lessons to do something he never did with clients.

"Do you want to get a drink?"

It was the middle of the day, the words blurting straight out when they left the classroom. She was stuffing her notebook— this one brand-new with red cover for her lessons— into a leather messenger bag, which she had slung over her shoulder. "A drink?" she echoed.

He stumbled, backtracking. "I mean...nevermind, I just thought..." It was stupid really. They were just a client and someone providing a service. Teaching skydiving. Bit different, but overall the same. He shook his head quickly. "Nevermind."

"I..." she began, hesitating.

"Forget it," he said, more forcefully than he intended. He closed his eyes, raking fingers through his hair. The curls sprung up a bit like a mad scientist when he dropped them to his sides. Her mouth formed a surprised 'o' at his tone. "I mean...sorry."

A shy smile curved around her lips. "I just thought maybe since it's..." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "It has been a very, very long time since I...since I had a drink with anyone and..." She bit her bottom lip, her expressive brows forming a concerned squiggle over her bright eyes. "I can't actually drink, but I can have...we can get coffee?"

Coffee? That was better. They could get coffee right then and there.

"Coffee."

"Or tea," she said, shrugging. She gestured her hand to the car. "We can go somewhere else. Unless of course....you have...a client."

"No, no Arya and her boyfriend are handling things this afternoon." He had paperwork and things to do in the back. Safety reports, inspections, and financial stuff. The actual business side of the business that he despised. Anything to delay it, really. He nodded smartly, deciding it then and there. "I'll drive. There's a place in town, Hot Pie's."

She smiled, eyes crinkling. "I know, I've been there. I love it. Let's go."

They went off, speaking casually in the car, Ghost with them, since Hot Pie's was a dog-friendly establishment. He let her find them a table and went to order, getting himself a regular coffee and ordering her a hot tea; he wasn't sure which brand she wanted, so when he paid and spotted her in a small corner of the shop, her tattered notebook out and Ghost at her feet, he carried them over. "Wasn't sure what you wanted," he apologized, setting the hot water down in front of her.

"Oh no trouble, I don’t really know myself until I see the selection. I'll be right back." Dany popped up and gripped the edge of the table briefly for balance, so subtle he almost missed it, and went to the tea stand at the counter, starting her perusal.

Ghost lifted his head for a bit of the pumpkin loaf Jon had bought for them to share, snapping his teeth around the piece he held over the table edge. When the dog moved to go back underneath the table, the bit of draft from his tail swishing flicked some of the pages of the notebook back, and he glanced at them, before shooting a quick look to Dany.

It was not his business, he reminded himself. He hesitated and stole a quick look. The ink she'd used was heavy and black, visible to even his poor eyes. He craned his neck slightly, wondering what she wrote about so furiously. It was likely a journal, but the page he could see was more of a checklist.

He caught sight of one thing, marked off, with a date, and some colorful drawings around it, doodles and swirls. Pick roses in Highgarden.

There was a dried rose, he noted, on the opposite page, preserved between the page and a plastic film, with what even appeared to be a photo of her kneeling in a garden. He drew back, upset he'd seen something so personal because of his own nosiness, and instead busied himself with his coffee.

A bucket list, that was his first thought. Lots of people had them, he was used to seeing it, skydiving. Tons of people wanting to jump out of a plane to say they did it. He felt her approach, her shadow falling over the table and she took her seat, folding her book back and setting it in her bag, before she sniffed at her tea, smiling over the top of the cup at him.
"What did you get?" he asked.

She held it out for him to sniff. "Guess."

He took a whiff, unsure, but thought it smelled like cinnamon. "Um...chai?" That was one of the only types of tea he even knew.

She laughed, happy and free. "No! It's the Valyrian Volcano. Cinnamon, ginger, turmeric, and honey. Cardamom pods too. It's delicious."

"Sounds spicy."

"It is, here, have a sip." She took off the top of her cup and handed it to him. He met her gaze over the cup, taking a quick sip. Damn, that is spicy, he thought, his eyes briefly watering. It was warm, but also a bit soothing. He nodded, leaning back, about to say so, when she turned the cup around and took a sip, from where he'd had his mouth a moment ago.

His stomach grew hot, not just from the tea and coffee. He swallowed hard. "That's good," he croaked.

"I love it. It's my favorite." Capping the cup again, Dany tapped her fingers on the side, continuing to smile, her gaze falling around the store. "I like coming here. I like this place. It's very quiet."

"Where are you staying?"

"A little long-term rental, I have some things I want to do in the North, it seemed prudent. Missandei flew up for skydiving and she's coming back in a few weeks." She grinned. "We're going to go to the Wall."

"The Wall?" He made a face, grinning at her surprised look. "I used to be stationed up there, at Castle Black. It's definitely not a fun place. Make sure you have a thick coat."

"We're going to climb it." She took out her notebook and turned to one of the pages in the back, showing him a brochure she had tucked into it. He took it gingerly and his nose wrinkle must have been obvious, the second he saw the name on the front. Jon didn't even need to turn it to the back to know who the proprietor happened to be. Dany's brows lifted. "Do you know this company? Are they good?"

He shrugged, flicking open the glossy paper. "It's all relative." He turned it around, tapping the smirking face of the big-toothed redhead on the back. "That's my ex-girlfriend."

"No shit!"

"Shit."

Dany snatched the brochure, laughing again. "Wow, small world, huh? Well I'll cancel it then."

"Oh no, don't do that...I mean...she's good. She was born climbing that damn Wall, but..." He made another face, chuckling. "She is my ex."

"Why is she an ex?"

He blinked, surprised at the question. Was it a trick? "Um....well..." He sighed hard. "Lots of reasons. I got the sense she was always using me for something. Maybe I was using her, I don't know. Mutually beneficial relationship, but there was no love." That was what Arya had told him, during a drunken messy night when he'd contemplated going running back into Ygritte's arms.

"Sounds like my last relationship." Her brow furrowed, her fingers slipping through the notebook pages, setting the brochure back in its spot. Her voice dropped. "And then he just...left. Turns out I wasn't worth it." She sighed, picking up her tea. She lifted it up over the table. "To flying, Jon Snow."

He liked the sound of that, and gently touched his coffee cup against hers. "To flying."

"Tomorrow, I want to go again." She lifted her brow. "Can we do that? Maybe make the classroom lessons more...frequent?"

Jon hoped he didn't sound too eager when he exclaimed: "Done."

Ghost looked up at him, shaking his head, clearly seeing through the facade. He was terrible at hiding it, but aye, maybe Arya was right. He had a crush on Dany.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought, trying not to steal a glance at her, but finally doing so, and she quickly looked away, she had one on him too.

"Oh that's just exhilarating! I can never get over it!"

Jon tugged at the parachute cords, yanking it out of the landing zone, his heart still hammering in his chest. He had to agree, you never really did get over it. He was glad they were able to get up for a jump; the slot opened up when someone had canceled, chickening out at the last minute. He happily suggested to Dany they go up, which she was game for. Then they'd go back to classroom work.

He turned his head, to suggest maybe they go get some coffee before they get back to the classroom, when he saw her touching her temple, swaying slightly in place. "Dany?" he asked, frowning.

Arya went over from where she'd finished with her pack, lightly touching Dany's shoulder. "Hey? You okay?"

"I just...I'm fine..." Dany trailed off, her voice faint, and to his horror, her eyes rolled back in her head and she drifted sideways, collapsing in a tiny heap onto the ground, the heavy harness she wore cracking into her head when she landed.

"Dany!"

He screamed, a man possessed, terrified, and dropped the chute in his hands, racing towards her and sliding on his knees at her side, carefully dislodging the harness and patting her face. "Dany? Dany!" He was frantic, trying to figure out what was wrong; had she fainted? Was she ill? Did she hurt her head somehow?

Arya was already on the phone, calling for an ambulance, and he placed his hands on either side of her head, gentle, careful not to move her too much. His hand was sticky, blood smearing on his arm from a fresh cut, courtesy of one of the buckles near her shoulder striking her head she'd fallen on it. It stained her silver hair, matting it at the edges. He shrugged out of his harness and ripped open a pocket in his suit, tearing at the fabric, anything to help staunch the bleeding.

As he did, he realized that her hair had moved, askew over her forehead. "What..." he trailed off, lightly touching it and frowned, peeling at it...it pulled away.

A wig.

"Oh Dany," he whispered, the wig falling off, revealing a short cap of matching silver hair, clearly growing back in. She stirred in his lap, but said nothing, murmuring in her unconscious state. He stroked her face, not moving, not even when the ambulance appeared, the EMTs jumping out to help. He answered the questions as best as he could; Arya said she'd get Dany's bag and bring it to the hospital, but he was going to ride in the car.

Her emergency contact, he thought, reminding Arya. It was in the paperwork, and she was already on it. "Does she have any medical conditions?" one of the EMTs asked.

"I don't...I don't know, nothing that would prevent her from skydiving." Nothing that she had told me, he thought, his heart aching. He ran his hand over her shoulder, from his position in the corner of the ambulance, and caught sight of something glinting on her neck. He reached down, touching the chain, like dog tags. he hadn't noticed them before, she never wore them in lessons.

The EMT caught his sight, the woman's badge said 'Meera.' She reached and pulled at the necklace, revealing a silver tag not unlike the dogtags he still wore. "Medical ID," she said, turning it towards him.

Engraved on it was a condition, followed by several medications. Jon stared at the object in shock, taking the tag numbly, while Meera called out commands to her partner, whose tag said 'Jojen.'

He returned his gaze to Dany, pocketing the medical tag, and lifted her hand, the one they weren't putting anything in because of the instruction on the tag, and kissed her knuckles, whispering: "I'm here."

He hoped she could hear him.

"Jon?"

He heard the faint voice, his name whispering somewhere, and opened his eyes, blinking sleepily, and tried to get his bearings. A bright light shone down from above, harsh and sallow, and he coughed a couple of times, sitting up in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his neck aching from the awkward position he'd had his head. He rubbed at it, blinking a few more times, and realized that the tiny frame in the bed had said his name, and he exclaimed in surprise, jumping up and going to sit on the edge of the bed. "Dany," he breathed, touching her fingers.

The action startled her, her fingers jumping up, and he recoiled, realizing his overly familiar action might not be welcome now she was awake. Dany blinked and shook her head slightly, reaching to slide her hand back into his. She had been asleep since they took her back into the ER, when she'd woken up and he'd been sent away while the doctors fussed with her. At the time, he'd seen her crying, and then later he was called back, apparently permission given by her emergency contact, Viserys Targaryen, for him to go back with her.

When he did get called back, she was asleep again. All the doctor told him was that she was dehydrated and she would be fine. "No more jumping from planes for a couple of weeks, I think," had been the guidance.

Jon felt foolish, kicking himself over and over for not seeing anything, for just suggesting they go up as frequently as possible. He had all the paperwork from Arya, who brought it over and her bag, which was on the table beside the bed. He had gone over it again and again, but she had answered everything appropriately. Nothing they asked precluded her from going jumping. "Do you want me to call a nurse?" he offered, when she closed her eyes, her forehead furrowing.

"No, I'm fine, I'm...oh Jon I'm sorry! I don't want to get you in trouble or anything..." She sniffed, tears trickling down her cheeks. He removed a Kleenex from a box nearby them, dabbing it against her skin. She took it from him and sat up slightly, shaking her head again. It was different to see her without her wig, her hair in a pixie cut, the cut from the harness bandaged on her temple. The bruises beneath her eyes had returned and she looked so frail.

Except there was strength there; he saw it that first day he met her. "You won't get me in trouble," he whispered, taking her hand again and squeezing. He smiled, comfortingly, and whispered. "I'm not going to go after you Dany...you were dehydrated, that's all."

"My doctors said I was okay to skydive, I think I just...so often maybe..." She hiccupped and lifted her amethyst irises up. She whispered, "I was going to tell you, you know...now that we've been getting...closer."

"Dany don't..."

"No I have to....I...I told Vis that he could tell them to let you back. I'm pretty good with how hospitals work," she said, smiling darkly. She wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath, pointing up to her shorn hair. "Chemo. It's growing back, but I used to have hair down to my bum. Like the wigs...I'm cancer free...I hope I still am at least...I know they did another scan now...to see. They sent everything to my oncologist in King's Landing, but haven’t come in to tell me I guess..."

He wouldn't know, having fallen asleep himself. He imagined that was something they'd wake her for. "That was the milestone," he realized, understanding Missandei's joy, the tears they'd shed afterward. He smiled softly. "You were cancer free, and..."

"And I was celebrating...being alive. Flying like a dragon." Dany pointed to her bag. "Get my notebook please."

He did so, taking the battered object and handing it to her. She flicked it open, gesturing to the pages, and began to explain, her voice strong, belying her exhausted body. "I was having headaches, I eventually passed out, after one so bad I thought I was going to die. My brother took me to the ER, and they did a scan and they found cancer in my brain, but it didn't start there." She smiled wryly and shrugged. "My mum had breast cancer and I was going to get scanned later that year, for the first time, but seems it came for me sooner. It had spread, boobs and brain." She touched the pages, which Jon now saw were indeed a bucket list. "I had to get radiation, chemo...I thought the treatments would kill me. They did brain surgery at one point...oddly enough that's why I had to get my hair shaved...I just did it all. I didn't want just a patch of it missing."

She trailed off, her fingers skimming each page, some which were blank, the item still missing. “I thought I was going to die,” she whispered, in awe, shaking her head. “When I had seizures…when they thought I might stroke out…when it wasn’t working at one point…I decided I was done with it all…I was going to live.” She wiped her eyes quickly again, fingers trembling. She took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “You asked me what I did…I used to be a teacher, I used to just…throw myself into everything and never take a break. I wasn’t living for myself. This has taught me to do that and…and I had a boyfriend when I got…when I first got sick.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Jon felt a surge inside of him, anger bubbling up and rushing fast through his veins. “He left you?” he breathed, his hands fisting tight. His teeth ground. “Fucking arse.”

“Yes, he was. I haven’t…that is…” She chewed her lower lip. He squeezed her hand, reassuring her. He knew what she was getting at. She confirmed it, whispering nervously, “I haven’t been with anyone since I got sick but you…you didn’t know and it was…it was nice.”

And what does that mean? He frowned, confused. “Was nice?”

“Well I mean…” She sighed. “You’re not going to keep letting me skydive, right? You’re just…you’ll think I’m sick. Like they all do.”
He gaped, unable to comprehend what she was saying. “Dany,” he breathed, leaning closer. He squeezed her hand harder, careful of the IV in the one he was holding. He shook his head, whispering. “Dany…I keep coming up with things to keep doing because I want you to stay…I…” He warmed again, figuring now was a good a time as any, after all. “I really like you and…and I don’t…” He laughed nervously. “I don’t really give skydiving lessons and all and…and this has nothing to do with you being sick or not sick and it’s…it’s up to you. To your doctor’s, but I’m certainly not going to stop seeing you.” He paused, then smiled sheepishly. “If that’s alright.”

She burst out laughing, almost sobbing, and wiped her tears away again with her free hand. “It is,” she answered.

“Well then…” He looked at her notebook, gesturing for it and she pushed it to him. He flicked through it, noting that she wanted to visit YiTi and had done that, she sat on the Iron Throne…she rode horses with the Dothraki…she still hadn’t jumped in the Shivering Sea or climbed the Wall or… “Pet a wolf?” he murmured.

She nodded, picking a stray bit of thread off the cheap hospital blanket over her knees. “Yes, I always wanted to pet a wolf.”

“Hmm…” He marked that one away for a second, stopping on the one that had the most pages devoted to it, the one she kept returning to, over and over again. The top of her bucket list. The only thing she had ever wanted to do.

Be a dragon.

The photos were from the first day he met her, from gearing up to the jump, to the landing…the one Rickon had taken of her looking to the sky afterward was the most breathtaking to him, the shadow from the sun catching half her face, throwing it in relief, giving her silver hair an otherworldly glow. He dragged his finger over it and then to the one beside it, frowning. It was of him. Rickon must of tossed it in, without showing him. He was staring off towards her, a smile on his face, and he didn’t realize…he looked happy.

“I realized that…I think I liked you when I put that in there,” she mumbled. She smiled shyly. “The way you were looking at me…I didn’t want to read too much into it.”

He shook his head and closed the book, setting it aside, and then very carefully, mindful of the IV and the monitors affixed to her, he leaned in, angling his mouth over hers, and very gently pressed a kiss there. He intended it to be just that, a sweet, soft kiss, but something overtook him. A desperation, feeling her beneath him, trembling, and nervous as him. He made to pull back, to try to control himself, but her hand came to his cheek, stroking along his jaw and he pressed harder, stifling the soft moan she released, and drew her towards him, slipping her into his lap. He felt her tongue prodding first, and opened his mouths lightly, allowing her entry, and she did the same for him. He swept his tongue along her palate, tasting the sweetness she gave, one hand on the small of her back and the other cradling her face, reminding himself this woman would not break, she was strong and fierce.

She was a dragon, after all.

They broke away, a moment later, and he gulped breaths of air, his nose brushing hers. She laughed, her fingers still in his hair, pulling at the knot he’d tugged his curls into at some point in the waiting room. “So…when can I get out of here you think? And back in the sky?”

“Have to ask the doctor about the first, but for the sky…” Jon shrugged, grinning. “It’s not my job to tell a dragon when she can’t fly.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing, whispering. “Thank you, Jon…for taking that leap with me.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it, eyes wide. “This is…it’s going to be hard…I just…I’ve been scared for a long time.”

So have I, in my own way. He nodded, understanding, and pulled her tighter against him, never wanting to let her go. After a moment, he remembered something. “Hey Dany?”

“Hmm?”

“You can mark something else off your list.”

“Oh?”

He was about to say so, when the door opened, a doctor entering. It was Jeor Mormont, the Old Bear, who used to be in the military with Jon. After a few handshakes and back-claps, he turned his gruff, wizened face on Dany, who was terrified, her face ashen. “Well Ms. Targaryen,” he began, looking at the papers in his hand.

“Just tell me,” she breathed.

Mormont chuckled. “No need to be upset, your scan continued to show no sign of cancer. I’ve spoken to your oncologist…” He frowned. “She’s a bit odd, that Dr. Mel. Anyways, she will call you shortly. Until then, lay off the skydiving for a couple weeks in my opinion.” He shook his head, scowling and pointed towards Jon. “And beware of this one. Find yourself a nice lad that doesn’t think throwing himself in front of the first sign of danger is the best way to spend a Saturday evening.”

She peered up at him, grinning, and squeezed his hand. “Oh I don’t know Dr. Mormont, I think he’s as much of a dragon as I am.”

“Hmm, flying wolf, more like.”

Mormont spoke to her for a few more minutes, and then departed, leaving them alone again. He glanced sideways, seeing her wipe at her eyes again. “You alright?” he whispered, lightly touching his thumb to her cheek.

She nodded quickly. “Yes, I just…I’m still cancer free. That’s all that matters right now.” She grinned, the edges of her smile wavering with her tears. “And I found you. That’s enough.”

He was pleased to hear it, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and pulling her into his arms, his cheek resting against the top of her head, her face burying into his shirt. He rubbed her arm comfortingly, and a moment later, remembered her notebook. Her list. “Dany.”

“Yes?”

“I said you can check something else off your list.”

“Oh?”

He picked up the book and turned to the wolf page, where she had drawn an image of a wolf, peering out from between trees. He tapped it and smirked down at her. “You’ve already done this.”

“Huh?” She furrowed her brow, confused. “No I haven’t.”

“Hmm. You have.” He turned towards the dragon pages, and in the corner of one, she was sitting with Ghost, both wearing their goggles. He dropped his voice, a secret between the two of them. “Ghost is part-wolf.”

Dany looked at the notebook and back up at him, and after a second, he thought she was going to accuse him of lying, when she burst into laughter, her arms returning to around his neck, squeezing hard. “Oh! You should have said something!”

“I did now.”

She kissed his cheek, hugging him again, and laughed. “Perhaps we can add another to the list?”

“What is that?”

Towards the back of the notebook, on one of the last untouched pages, she set the pen, and wrote out, in neat script writing.

See dragons flying with wolves.

Jon beamed at her and nodded, dropping his lips over hers. “I think that can be arranged.”

Five years later, after being officially declared cancer free, Dany made him take her up for a jump, both of them leaping from the plane, with Ghost strapped to his chest for a rare treat. As they flew through the air, he pointed towards the ground, and while he couldn’t hear her words, he knew what she was saying, in the way she squeezed his hand tight and didn’t let go until they had to.

He’d asked her a question, in huge, printed letters on the ground, only visible from flying above.

‘Will you marry me?’

And when they landed and she threw off her helmet, she screamed ‘Yes’ as loud as she could.

That night, she checked off the last thing on her list.

Jump into the unknown.