Who: Daenerys Targaryen and Open What:Arrival Where:Streets RatingPG
Quietly Dany slipped out-of-bed so not to wake Jon. She was cold, her naked white skin covered in little bumps. Not that the gown would help, it was flimsy, but it was something.
Sliding back into bed a small sigh, escaped the young Queen's lips. Turning on her side she got up on one elbow to watch Jon sleep. Her fingertips gently stroked Jon's arm to wake him up, but it wasn't enough pressure.
She wanted to trace his scars on his chest while she wondered if Sir Davos' words were in fact literal. Making a mental note to ask him later, she leaned in to smell his hair. She would remember that smell forever. He was so different from Khal Drogo. It wasn't a bad difference, he was smaller in statue, but where Drogo was rough, Jon was gentler.
Her vision blurred as her body began to float.
Cold feet, that's what she thought. She somewhere she hadn't been before. Somewhere bright and shiny and bustling. She looked for Jon and he was nowhere to be found. People bumped into her, some calling her names, others commenting on how beautiful she was assuming she was a prostitute.
“I am Daenerys Stormborn,” she kept telling herself, whispering low.