Jon was exhausted. He never realized being an attentive host, diplomat, and lover could take up so much energy and time. When he was held on Dragonstone he certainly did not have to constantly have to wait on Daenerys the way he did now. In fact not being able to contact the foreign queen was part of his troubles. She had no time to spare for stubborn kings in open defiance of the crown as she put it. Yet now it seemed he must constantly be by her side or else the northerners, especially Sansa, would face her wrath.

They walked out in the yard. Watching the army prepare for war. Defenses strengthened, obstacles built, weapons forged, and all under a miasma of dread. Jon wished he could join his people, not spend his time minding his tongue as he walked around Winterfell with the Dragon Queen. Their ramblings were under the guise of observing the preparations, yet it was quiet clear that not only did the queen have no idea how to oversee battle planning, but that she had another motive in mind, one she would reveal in her own sweet time. Leaving Jon frustrated and unable to do anything else as his presence was required by the Targaryen woman.

Finally she spoke. And Jon wished her silent once more. "Your sister doesn't like me." A statement. And one made in a cold embittered tone as well. The queen was not happy. Jon had seen enough to know she did not take well to those who opposed her. And anyone who did not instantaneously love her opposed her. At least this is what she thought. He had seen Sansa's chilly attitude too. She was not making things easier for him, or herself. He would have to tread carefully here.

As the white clothed woman stopped, waiting for his response, so too did Jon. He sighed; he hoped she took it as a sign of his being upset with Sansa, and not her. Looking around to make certain they were alone he responded. "She doesn't know you." No reaction. Daenerys face remained closed, haughty and resentful. So appealing to common sense would not work. Perhaps he could break the ice with a joke? "If it makes you feel any better, she didn't like me either when we were growing up." And a soft smile.

"She doesn't need to be my friend," Daenerys intoned. "But I am her Queen." Her expression displayed her scorn, narrowing her eyes as if Jon and Sansa were no more than snowflakes burned away by dragonfire she continued. "If she can't respect me…" her voice trailed off ominously. The statement went unfinished, the threat did not.

Badly leashed rage and contempt, badly leashed by design, oozing through her words, abhorrence etched into every movement, Death's Daughter did not hesitate to menace the Red Wolf of Winterfell. She wanted Jon to feel helpless, impotent, and small. She was the Mother of Dragons, and the northerners were of no consequence to her.

But she did not understand wolves. For they are Pack. And the Strength of the wolf is the pack, and the strength of the pack is the wolf.

"No," he states. This is one of the most stupidly reckless things he has ever done. He will do it anyway.

"What did you say?" fury flaring across her face.

For the first time he looked her straight in the eye, no mincing his movements, no off to the side glances, or out of focus gaze as he tended to do when he needed to seem invested in the Valyrian. No, here they were eye-to-eye and intent. Jon took a step closer to her and spoke. "No, Sansa does not need to respect you, you need to earn her respect. And the respect of the people as well."

Taking another deep breath he continued before she could interrupt. "You have done nothing but claim your birthright since you arrived on these shores; and it is a not insignificant idea, and you certainly have a better claim than any Lannister in King's Landing. But as far as the northerners and valemen are concerned, you have no birthright. It was taken from you by right of conquest, the same right you used when you conquered Slaver's Bay and the Dothraki. If you have any birthright left it is as Robert Baratheon's closest living relative through his Targaryen grandmother. They do not need to support you. The only reason they did not outright attack your armies is because I vouched for you. You have done nothing to earn their admiration or respect." Jon narrowed his eyes in response to seeing the Targaryen queen's mounting wrath.

"No Daenerys, it is not because you are the Mad King's daughter; that would make them wary, yet we do not judge children by the crimes of their parents here. I made sure of that. No it is because they know you are a foreigner who knows little about our customs and seems to care less.

"You brought an army of rapers and looters to our shores, and don't pretend you have complete control over all of them at all times, we both know that is false. The people know you have waged war in the south. And you burned food! Food Dany! Food! I had no idea you had burned it! I know before the battle you were already worried about feeding your armies, I assumed you battled the Lannister army and took the food for yourself! I did not know either that you did not bring any supplies with you North! You claim you know what it is to starve, but do you really? What was the longest you went without food, two days? Three? Do you know what it is to have your body begin to eat itself to stay alive? To be willing to consume anything at all? Grass, leather, your own urine and excrement? Flesh? Traveling with the Free Folk I did not experience this, no, I did talk with people who have, who have had to live with themselves ever after. Not those who were cannibals because they chose to be for various reasons, those who were barely able to move, wracked with delirium and wondered if it would be so terrible to not burn their fallen family to ash after all? At the wall we were lucky if we got more than a half portion of barely edible food a day for weeks at a time. And Sansa experienced the riots that nearly toppled the Lannisters in King's Landing due to their extravagance while the people starved. With the added burden of your forces all this is almost a certainty for my people; who will be left in shambles when your people march back south. Yet you make light of the situation and threaten my sister who has won the approval of the north and valemen for finding barely enough food to feed them all.

"My people do not know you. But they do know when they dared to show justified apprehension and concern on their faces during your arrival you grinned in delight and satisfaction at their fear of your dragons."

He now narrowed his own eyes at her. "I told you I wanted to see if you were different from all of the other selfish tyrants, only seeking their own power and pleasures. When you were willing to risk your life for us north of the wall, your subjects, prospective allies and strangers, I thought I had my answer. I felt I had found a monarch worthy of admiration and respect. Now I wonder. You weren't being brave and selfless. You found you had underestimated the enemy true, but before you got to the frozen lake? It never even occurred to you you could be in danger.

"And even though you lost one of your dragons to the white walkers, you saw their numbers, their power, you still talk of this being my war. As if it is not everyone's war. You still insisted on the truce with Cersei, you still were preoccupied with winning the Iron Throne! As if any of that matters! Now you are preoccupied with petty matters of protocol and past grudges. You are perturbed people, who have not seen any demonstration of your benevolence, are not falling to their knees in adoration! You blame Sansa for this but have not attempted to gain their respect by a single act of goodwill! Instead you are cold and blame them and Sansa in turns for their lukewarm reception. I can't believe the woman I saw that day would be so small-minded! I thought you were different. Now you have proven yourself to truly be more of the same."

Jon let out a half snort half sigh leaning back and shaking his head slightly. "And now you will take your armies south in a fit of peak, believing we deserve to be left to our fate, while you can raze King's Landing to the ground with no consequences. And when your lands are dust, ash and ice, when the Night King and the armies of the Dead prove how insignificant your quest for power truly was, you will finally know it isn't about you at all. It is about them. The people. The people are who matter, and you need to earn THEIR respect. Otherwise you will never deserve it. Sansa deserves their respect for putting their needs ahead of her own. What will you do?"

Jon stepped back. Daenerys face was contorting with rage, her hands in shaking fists, body tensed like an executioner about to deliver the killing blow. No doubt he had gone too far. She would reduce his home to ash and smoke now. At least their burned bodies would not add soldiers to the Night King's army.

But then "Jon Snow—" she spat out. "Know this, I will not abandon my subjects but I will not forget this insolence either. The North, The Vale, and The Riverlands are my birthright. I am entitled to all of your respect and fealty. I will have them. After I defeat the Night King. Your precious sister will see what makes a real queen. You will see too Jon Snow.

"And you will know you were wrong. I am different. I am unlike any who have come before me. And I will take what I am owed, with Fire and Blood I will take it!" She stormed off as Jon breathed out.

Stupidly reckless indeed. He had spent so much time working to gain and keep her favor, her attention, and now all her goodwill was gone. He had never thought much beyond the war with the Others. It probably would have been better to stay quiet. To subtly turn her wrath from Sansa. That was no longer an option. Perhaps he could show her how impressed he was by her if they survived the upcoming encounter? Whatever he did and he would need to do now. He could admit to himself he felt no remorse for telling the Daenerys the truth. All he could do now was hope. And put his faith in the queen who truly deserved respect: Sansa Stark.