Long-time reader of FanFiction of various types, finally publishing something of my own on here. My first G.O.T. fic of any sort, and first entry on , so please be kind and enjoy. Feedback always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. The wonderful world of Game of Thrones, and all in it belongs to G.R.R.M. and the HBO show writers. All Hail!
I make nothing but relief of angst and suspense for myself, from playing with these characters.

Spoiler Alert for 7x03, so if you aren't caught up with the show till that point, you have been warned. :)


"You must forgive them their flights of fancy. It's dreary in the North." Tyrion quipped, before his face grew serious once more. Sighing, he went on...

"Your grace, if I may... I can see his point."

"His point?" demanded Daenerys with quiet indignation "... and what point might that be?"

Tyrion braced himself. "He will never support your claim to the Iron Throne based solely on your birthright. In fact, of all the people currently loyal to you, myself included, not a single one of us has done so based on that alone. Why, when Varys first brought up the idea of my joining your side, my first response, if I remember correctly, was to point out that the Targaryens are famously mad."

Daenerys scoffed quietly and paced towards the terrace, looking out upon the scenery, but stayed silent as he walked up next to her and went on, with gentle sincerity...

"I did not believe, upon our first meeting, that you could possibly live up to the reputation Varys assured me you had- despite his being a most-trusted source of information. It just all seemed too good to be true- a ruler as kind and fair as she is just? Actually worthy of the throne? Impossible!"

I did not pledge myself to you, nor your cause, until I'd had the chance to observe the truth of it for myself..." he caught her eye and emphasized his next words as he added ...

"And Jon Snow has not."

She made an annoyed roll of her eyes, and looked away from him, but he was undeterred, continuing fervently...

"Surely you can forgive him that. Even if it had not been your first meeting, he does have an all-consuming problem of his own, and the weight of his people's welfare to occupy his mind away from making such observations."

Daenerys glanced his way with a pensive look upon her face. He did have a point, loathe as she was to admit it. She had learned first-hand, the heavy weight of leadership upon one's shoulders.

"The King in the North does seem to take his responsibilities as ruler with utmost seriousness..." she conceded, her voice admiring.
"... in true Stark fashion." Tyrion added with a sardonic smile.

She arched an eyebrow in his direction, showing a hint of both doubt and curiosity at that addition.

"One of the many reasons", he clarified , "the Northerners have had so much loyalty to the Starks, for so long, is oddly similar to why your own people are loyal to you- they have, through the centuries, proven themselves to be benevolent and honourable leaders, fair and just to their people. Why would they hand over their fates to an outsider, a Monarch they do not know, when they have a trusted one of their own to lead them?"

"Because I am their rightful Queen!" Daenerys fumed.

It was now Tyrion's turn to roll his eyes and scoff, though he did so subtly, turning his face away, not wishing to fuel her rising temper.
He braced himself, and pointed out quietly "You are allowing your wounded pride to get the better of you, your Grace."

"You forget your place, my lord hand!" She shot back at him, anger dripping from her tone.

He sighed, and lowered his gaze, looking pensively into the glass he held between his hands, contemplating the murky liquid within, allowing the moment to settle, then added quietly "My place, as your hand, is by your side. You know my loyalties are pledged firmly to you... "

He dared a glance at her face, which softened

"..one of which, is to point out inconvenient, yet, in my opinion, necessary considerations. I have never known you to choose flattery over honesty."

Though she stayed silent, the slight twitch of her mouth told him his words have reached her. He went on...

"You've won the love of the people standing behind you- nobles, courtiers and commoners alike; different cultures, classes, languages and customs, all united in their faithful support of you.

They did not care who your father was, or what bloodline you carry. They cared that you are just, and gracious; that you were willing to fight for their freedom and well-being, and that you seek to respect their needs and customs as you do so."

He met her gaze, with warmth and loyalty in his own.

"They love you, because they have seen your heart."

He paused in thought for a moment before continuing...
"Yet that is why the Northerners have chosen their king, as well. A bastard king- perhaps the first in history! Despite his true-born sister, right there by his side, ready to be crowned instead!
I know Jon Snow, your Grace. His people chose him well.

If the King in the North ever considered bending the knee to you, the only reason he would is if he is certain his people would benefit from it, more than they would from his refusal to. And he has had no chance to observe- perhaps even to consider- that this may be the case. His people had not ever encountered a monarch who led them better than they could lead themselves.
They value their freedom... just as the slaves you'd freed. And they are stubborn, just as the ruler they've chosen is."

Daenerys smirked in agreement, thinking of the frustrating defiance in Jon Snow's eyes as he stood his ground against her upon their first meeting, despite full knowledge of the force behind her, and her Dragons' willingness to burn him alive should she command them to. He was indeed stubborn; yet, she had to admit as she contemplated the firmness of conviction in his steely eyes, the passionate single-mindedness of his resolve radiating from his chiseled face, and the courage it took to stand his ground against her... it wasn't all unattractive.
A man who would not be deterred from his focus... a man who, courteous though he was, would not subjugate himself to her will...

As if confirming her train of thought, Tyrion continued...

"He will not kneel to you. You cannot conquer the Northern spirit, by force.
But, cruel slavers and chauvinistic Khals aside, your conquests were never rooted in that- they succeeded, because of the devotion of your people. The love you tend to inspire. Perhaps, that is what will win out this time, as well."

The khaleesi stayed quiet, her eyes fixed unseeingly upon the landscape as she thought over her Hand's advice.
Freedom...
and love...

"You are suggesting..." She raised an eyebrow in surprise as realization dawned on her, a hint of a smile beginning to form upon her lips.

"I am suggesting you take this chance, to get to know the King in the North, and allow him to know you as others have. We've grown to love you, to believe in you. And Jon Snow is not blind. He will very likely come to feel the same, in time..."

"But we do not have time..." sighed Daenerys "he wants to leave as soon as possible."

Tyrion smirked "It's a good thing we took his ship."


Hope you enjoyed.

I marked this ficlette as "complete", but now that I started a longer story which this one would fit into, this can now be considered an off-shoot from "Know me Deeper", which I just published.

They will probably remain separate, because this one stands alone and can be rated less maturely.
Still, let me know if you think I should merge them, or not. Thanks for reading!