Jon walked down the hall, his boots tapping briskly against the dark grey stone. His cloak billowed about his feet as he strode, and he breathed deeply. He still was not used to the air of this place, with its dark rock and jagged architecture. It felt like a saw. Not that he didn't appreciate it; he marveled at how perfectly it nestled in the middle of the ocean, how right it felt to watch the dragons wheeling over and around the keep. Dragonstone was wild, tossed with waves and storm and flame, and Jon had always liked wild things.

Jon stopped before the door to the throne room and took a breath. He had some idea of why the Dragon Queen had summoned him, and he was unhappy with what his response had to be. He pushed the door open and walked through.

His footfalls rang dully against the broken walls of the throne room. Daenerys sat on the throne, and Jon's breath caught a little, as it always did when he saw her like this. With the rock backdrop that seemed to have been almost thrown up out of the ground, she cut an impressive figure. She sat serenely, her silver hair and graceful figure thrown into sharp relief against the black and jagged rock behind her.

Jon stopped at the base of the wide steps leading up to the throne. Save for her advisor and interpreter, Missandei, Jon and Daenerys were alone.

"You summoned me, your Grace?" Jon asked. Daenerys gazed down at him with sharp eyes, and not for the first time Jon wished he could understand what was going on behind them.

"Have you rethought your earlier conviction to remain off your knees?" Daenerys said in a hard voice, "My offer still stands. Bend the knee and my forces will help you in the North."

"I have rethought your offer, your Grace," Jon replied, "and my previous conviction still stands. I cannot."

Daenerys' eyes pierced through Jon, and his jaw clenched.

"Why." Daenerys demanded, the weight of her displeasure carried through the single word.

Jon took a breath and spoke. "I am King in the North-"

"Your pride is worth more to you than your people?" snarled Daenarys, but Jon continued.

"-just as you are Queen of Dragons. And like your dragons, the Northerners will not follow someone who they do not respect. Aegon the Conqueror won their respect with fire and blood, then Robert Baratheon won it when he overthrew Aerys the Mad. And now for whatever reason, I've won their respect as well. I bend the knee to you, and I lose that respect, and you have no North. If you wish, you may retake the North as Aegon did, and rain fire down upon them. But you will rule a land of ashes and snow, and the dead will crash down upon the South like locusts on a field."

Jon realized he was pacing and stopped himself. Daenerys was looking down at him, her face impassive and her hands folded in her lap. He hadn't yet seen any reason that she deserved his loyalty, and he was cautious around her. While he wasn't willing to bend the knee, he also wasn't quite happy tearing down an alliance with Daenerys. From the stories he'd heard, and from the way her followers spoke of her, she was obviously an impressive woman. He needed her help if Westeros was to have any chance against the Night King.

"I cannot fight a war on two fronts, Jon Snow." Jon heard the emphasis on "Snow" but kept his face still. "I cannot fight against both you and Cersei."

"You also cannot fight a war against the dead if you are alone." Jon said softly. Daenerys watched him, lips pressed together. She sat, and Jon began to grow more anxious as the time passed. Finally, Daenerys stood, and walked down a few steps until she was standing before Jon, a few steps above him. Jon looked at her, and he saw the Queen, fierce and defiant and strong.

"Walk with me." Daenerys said, and Jon tilted his head in compliance.

They left the throne room and walked through the castle. Jon did not know where they were headed, but he was glad for the change.

They moved slowly through the halls in silence, Missandei following behind them. Daenerys took them to a door and they nodded to the guards as they went through. They exited onto a path that wended down to a cliff. They were on a large spit of land that was fenced on all sides by either the castle or a sheer drop to crashing waves below. One of Daenerys' dragons was preening itself off to one side, and Jon could see the other two flying over the waves beyond.

Jon's heart skipped at the sight of the great creature, it's scales mutely glinting in the sun. For something so huge, it somehow had a grace in the way it moved. When Jon and Daenerys came out of the castle, it slowly swung its head around to inspect them, then continued preening. It wasn't that he was afraid of it; in fact, he found them quite beautiful. But he couldn't stop that initial lurch, seeing something so powerful and raw, like a storm made flesh.

"Wait here." Daenerys said softly to Missandei, and she led Jon down the path. They came to the cliff's edge, and Daenerys placed her hands on the low wall keeping them from plunging into the ocean. Jon watched her as she gazed out at the two large winged shadows, swooping and keening above the waves. It was some time before Daenerys spoke.

"I don't know how far I believe your claim of an army of the dead. However, I have seen many things that others would laugh at, and Tyrion has urged me to trust you."

Jon looked out at the dragons. This was good.

"I also understand that the Northerners would not think well of you if they heard their King bent the knee to another," Daenerys said, somewhat sharply, "however right her claim. If I am to defeat Cersei, and we are to prevail against the dead, then we need each other as allies." Daenerys looked at Jon.

"If you will not bend the knee, then I have a proposal." Jon looked back at Daenerys, and he saw a fire in her eyes. "Marry me."

Jon nearly choked. "Your Grace? I'm not sure I follow."

Daenerys closed her eyes, then looked out at her dragons again. "If we marry, then our goals would be aligned, and you would lose no respect of the Northern Lords. I would not have a war with the North, and I would gain your aid against Cersei. And you would have my aid against the army of the dead." Daenerys' face grew hard. "However, were we to marry, I would not be your spineless Queen, doing your bidding and keeping your bed warm." She turned her gaze on him, and her eyes were fierce. "I would be Queen of Westeros, and you King in the North. I will not relinquish what I have built to gain an ally."

Jon was stunned. He thought for a second on what to say. "I'm not sure that I can answer you at the moment, your Grace. It is a generous offer, but I need some time to think about it."

Jon could see Daenerys was a little stung, but she hid it quickly. "Very well, think. But think well; I do not offer this lightly."

Daenerys walked back up the path, and Jon watched her as she re-entered the castle, soon followed by Missandei. He turned back around. With a screech, the dragon that had been preening on the grass spread its wings and took off, each wing beat throwing the salt air down with a thump. Jon watched as it joined its brothers. He stood, leaning on the wall, thinking for a long time.

"Do you know what I like about you?" Daenerys said.

Tyrion sat, staring into the fire roaring in the hearth, a glass of wine in his hand, as his Queen gazed down at the great table shaped like Westeros. Tyrion looked over at her.

"I honestly don't," he said, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head slightly.

"You're not a hero." Daenerys replied quickly, her voice tinged with bitterness

Tyrion was taken aback. "Oh. I've…been heroic on occasion. I once charged through the Mud Gate at King's Landing-" He motioned at his scar as he spoke.

"I don't want you to be a hero," Daenery interrupted. "Heroes do stupid things and they die. Drogo, Jorah, Dario, even this," she waved her hand absently, "Jon Snow. They all try to outdo each other: who can do the stupidest, bravest thing."

Tyrion looked back into the fire. "It's interesting, these heroes you name. Drogo, Jorah, Dario. Even this," he waved, "Jon Snow." He looked up at her and saw she was watching him. "They all fell in love with you."

"Jon Snow is not in love with me." Daenerys scoffed. She remembered back to her offer and his refusal. It still stung a bit. It was not that she was interested in him, exactly. But she saw that he would make a good partner. Stupid as he was, he was loyal.

"Oh," Tyrion replied, sarcasm colouring the edge of his voice, "my mistake. I supposed he stares at you longingly because he's hopeful for a successful military alliance."

Daenerys looked away. If this was true, then perhaps her offer had gotten through to him. Perhaps he was considering. She hoped that Tyrion had not caught the small smile that had twinged the corner of her mouth.

Jon opened his eyes. He was laying on a bed in what he thought was a ship. He looked around. Daenerys sat on the edge of his bed, watching him, tears glinting in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Jon whispered. Daenerys shook her head and looked down, tears beginning to well in her eyes. Jon reached out and took her hand from her lap. His heart jumped as he did this, but he forced down the thoughts of her offer. She looked back up at him. "I wish I could take it back. I wish we'd never gone." Jon could still see the form of her dragon, writhing as it plummeted to the frozen lake surface, its screeches filling the air, its blood staining the ice red.

Daenerys shook her head again and withdrew her hand. "I don't." Her voice quavered. "If we hadn't gone, I wouldn't have seen. You have to see it to know. Now I know." She looked at Jon, and he saw the fire in her eyes again. "The dragons are my children. They're the only children I'll ever have. Do you understand." Her voice was almost a challenge.

Jon nodded. He did understand. If he accepted her offer and married her, they would have no children together. A small part of Jon, the one that had been growing in his heart since that day on the cliff, said he wouldn't mind.

"We are going to destroy the Night King and his army." Daenerys' voice was hard and Jon knew she was remembering her child fall from the sky. "We'll do it together. You have my word."

Jon looked in her eyes, and he saw the fire blazing there. "Thank you, Dany."

"Dany?" Daenerys breathed. "Who was the last person who called me that? I'm not sure, was it my brother?" There was a note of disgust in her voice. "Mm, not the company you want to keep."

"Alright. Not Dany. How about my Queen." Jon knew he was all but refusing her offer of marriage, but he thought she would prefer this. He had found in her a leader he was willing to fight for. But as he said this, he felt that small part in his heart cry out. "I'd bend the knee but…"

Daenerys look at him. "What about those who swore allegiance to you?"

"They'll all come to see you for what you are." She had won his respect, and though he didn't want to admit it, his love as well, and that was a hard thing to win. Jon knew that the other Northerners would come to respect her as he had. He knew she was the Queen they needed.

She took his hand again, and that small part in his heart began to hope. "I hope I deserve it." Daenerys said, and Jon could see that he had touched her with his words.

Jon looked into her eyes, and felt a fire light in him as he spoke. "You do."

Jon stood at the door, nervousness coursing through him. He raised his hand to knock, and rapped three times. Daenerys opened the door. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other. She slowly opened the door wider to let Jon in. He walked through and turned as she closed the door.

"You summoned me, your Grace." Jon said in a soft voice. Daenerys looked down and walked away from the door.

"You are my vassal, Jon Snow."

Jon's heart fell. He knew this, and yet he had been unable to stop himself from falling in love with her. She was the storm, and the fire, and the winds, and the waves. She was the dragon.

"I ask you to reconsider my offer nonetheless." She looked up at him, and his breath caught.

"Your offer, your Grace?" He knew what she meant, but he dared not hope.

"Marry me, Jon Snow. I would rather see you on your feet and by my side than on your knees. Marry me, and fight this war for life with me." Daenerys' eyes had a fire unlike any Jon had seen before. She stood before him, almost radiant in the shadowed cabin. Jon looked into her eyes.

"I will marry you."

And then they went balls deep.