This chapter takes place in episode 7x04, while Daenerys is fighting in the Loot Train Battle, just before Jon and Davos' conversation with Missandei.

Days turned to weeks in the caves beneath Dragonstone. From dawn until dusk, Jon oversaw the mining and transport of the obsidian. The work kept him occupied, for which he was grateful. The few moments his mind did wander, he found his thoughts turning not to the army of the dead, but to the woman who had quite literally changed everything for him. Her words tumbled over and over in his mind. Isn't their survival more important than your pride? He hated to admit it, but she was asking of him what he had once asked of the King Beyond the Wall. Mance had refused, and how many Wildlings had paid the price for it? Now that he was in the same position, he began to understand just how much he had asked of Mance, and why the man had refused to kneel. It wasn't as simple as he had believed at the time.

He wanted to trust Daenerys, and a large part of him did. But he was all too aware of his position. He knew the Northerners, and despite the fact that they were facing the embodiment of death, many of them would prefer that fate to another Southern ruler, a Targaryen no less. They believed him, and did everything he asked, but still, few of them had actually seen the army of the dead. He found himself constantly frustrated by those around him who refused to grasp the gravity of this fight. They all wanted to play politics, and that was not a game he wanted any part of. He was a soldier with a war to fight, and would fight it no matter the cost.

Jon had sent a letter to Sansa after his arrival, assuring her of his safety and that the Dragon Queen was allowing them to mine the dragon glass. He had just received letters from both Castle Black and Eastwatch-there was no news of the Night King, so for now, they remained behind the Wall. Still, everyday Jon felt the air grow colder.

By midday, Jon had dispatched several ravens with updates on their progress; one to Winterfell, one to Eastwatch, one to Castle Black, and the last to Sam at the Citadel. He hadn't heard much from his friend since arriving at Dragonstone. Sam was the one who told him about the obsidian on the island, and Jon could only hope that his friend had found more information that could help them. A knock at his door alerted him to the fact that he was needed in the caves. Ser Davos met him in the hall as they began the trek down the island.

"I need to tell you something." Jon finally began, as they wound their way through the castle. "And I'm not sure how you're going to take it."

"Oh?"

Jon steeled himself. "The red priestess was here. She was the one who convinced Daenerys to see me."

The knight tensed at the very mention of the woman. Normally full of good humor, his demeanor shifted to one of pure disdain. "Why would she do that? From the queen's reaction, I would gather that woman didn't tell her about resurrecting you."

"No, but she did mention the prophecy." Jon recounted what Daenerys had told him about the literal translation, and Melisandre's belief that they each had a part to play.

Davos rolled his eyes, scoffing once again, and muttering under his breath about that woman and her damned prophecy. "What does the queen think about this?"

Jon had thought back to his conversation with Daenerys many times over the past few weeks, thought not always to ponder the words spoken, but rather the way he had felt around her. She had asked him if he believed in prophecy, but hadn't voiced her own thoughts. Then again, anyone who spoke as she did about bringing dragons back into the world and taking back her rightful seat would likely believe in some form of destiny.

"I think it intrigues her. Though, if she truly believed it, she would've already agreed to fight against the army of the dead." Frustration colored his tone, and he felt stifled by the dark stone walls that seemed to entomb him. Ser Davos chuckled and shook his head. Jon couldn't help but feel the man was laughing at him.

"Perhaps the Red Woman didn't tell her the entire prophecy." Davos recalled a night on the beaches of this very castle, when Melisandre declared Stannis the Warrior of Light and the Prince Who Was Promised. Jon gave him a curious look, and the knight recounted the woman's words, as best he could remember.

"After a long summer, darkness will fall heavy on the world. Stars will bleed. The cold breath of winter will freeze the seas, and the dead shall rise in the north. In the ancient books it is written that a warrior will draw a burning sword from the fire. And that sword shall be Lightbringer."

A chill passed over Davos as he recalled all of the atrocities that woman committed in the name of her lord, but he couldn't help but address the facts. "Now, I've never put much stock in prophecies and fairy tales, but there was a red comet that night, the dead are coming, and somehow she brought you back to life. I'd be a fool if I didn't notice the truth in those words." The Onion Knight bristled at the thought of believing anything that woman said, but he was pragmatic, and much like Jon, would continue this fight as best he could regardless of what some priestess saw in a fire.

"Does that mean she now believes that Daenerys is the princess who was promised? She seemed pretty convinced that's why I came back." Jon posited as they stepped through the massive gates of the fortress. The sun was high in the sky when they took to the seemingly endless stairs from the castle to the beach. He eyed the two dragons flying over the bay, and wondered briefly what the third was doing at that moment. It made him uneasy.

The knight noticed where his gaze had turned, nearly doubled over laughing. Jon was beginning to feel a bit condescended upon. "I'm hardly an educated man," Ser Davos began, "and I've certainly never been one for metaphors, but a flaming sword seems like a awfully poetic way to describe a dragon." He gestured to the two fire-breathers and gave Jon a look that seemed to imply that the connection the obvious. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that things aren't always what they seem. Perhaps the Red Woman believes you were brought back to convince Daenerys Targaryen to bring her army and her dragons north to fight the Night King. Perhaps together you fulfill this prophecy she believes in so much, and that's why she brought you together."

They both paused on the steps, pondering the implications of such a belief. Jon had tried his best not to think too deeply about things he would never understand. He prefered to focus on what he knew and what he could do. But Davos' words gave him pause. Whether he believed it or not, it would make sense why the Red Woman thought he was the Prince Who Was Promised, and Daenerys was Lightbringer. That's why she insisted they meet.

"Or maybe this is all hogwash and it's pure coincidence." Davos finally added, apparently deciding that they'd spent entirely too much time discussing a woman whom he never wanted to see again. "Whether it's fate or not, that doesn't change the fact that we have to put in the work."

Jon simply nodded, his thoughts turning to Daenerys. The queen had left the day prior to meet the Lannister army on its way back to King's Landing. Jon had been surprised when she asked his advice on strategy, and shocked when she listened to him. He had been right when he suspected that she valued council, and despite Tyrion's assertion that she would be smart to avoid the fray, he respected her tremendously for her willingness to join her army in battle. What kind a queen am I if I'm not willing to risk my life to fight them? She was still insistent on using her dragons; they were her greatest asset. She conceded that attacking cities and castles was shortsighted, impulsive, and would lead to unnecessary civilian casualties. Instead, she would attack the Lannister army, using one dragon as a weapon in battle, and only when necessary. Their target was the supply train, and she had agreed to stick to their strategy, starving Cersei of resources, rather than winning through sheer devastation. She wanted to win this war with the fewest number of casualties possible. Jon tried to take comfort in that notion.

The more he saw of her the more he could understand why Tyrion chose to support her. It wasn't enough to convince Jon she would be a good ruler, or that there was any way he could get the North to bow, but her passion and bravery only added fuel to his growing feelings for her. He tried desperately not to let them get out of hand, but everytime he recalled their moment in the caves, the first time he'd touched her, and the heat that passed between him, it made him feel a spark of life that he hadn't felt since that dagger pierced his heart. He had felt like a small part of him was missing since he woke up, and since arriving at Dragonstone, he had begun to catch glimpses of it.

As perceptive as ever, his companion seemed to sense where his thoughts had gone. "What do you think of her?" Davos teased.

"Who?" Jon asked, pulled from his heavy thoughts.

Davos sighed at his obtuse compatriot. "I think you know of whom I speak."

Jon avoided looking at the Knight, afraid his expression would betray his feelings. He tried to deflect with the simplest answer he could think of.

"I think she has a good heart."

"A good heart?" Davos had regained his humor after their previous subject of conversation. "I've noticed you staring at her good heart."

Jon rolled his eyes, annoyed that the man seemed to get so much pleasure out of teasing him. Davos had a grin on his face that proved he knew exactly what was running through the younger man's head. "There's no time for that." Jon insited, and Davos' smile widened. Jon hadn't denied it.

"I saw the Night King, Davos. I looked into his eyes." They continued down the stone steps, and Jon did his best to change the subject, falling back on the topic he spent so much of his time brooding on. "How many men do we have in the North to fight him? Ten thousand? Less?"

"Fewer." Davos chimed in, and Jon furrowed his brow at the comment. Davos still had a smile in his eyes.

"What?"

Rather than answering him, Ser Davos turned his attention to the young woman they happened upon.

"Speaking of good hearts. Missandei of Naath." The dark skinned woman turned, and greeted them warmly. Jon had always been slightly envious of the knight's ease in conversation. Jon had never been particularly comfortable in social settings, and was grateful to have Ser Davos around to help with that necessary evil in politics. Jon didn't care for the games and technicalities that governed interaction. Even in that moment, as they debated whether he was King Snow, or King Jon, he found that he really didn't care. Titles were trivial to him in the wake of the danger they were facing. Though there was one that he hated to admit he still cared about...bastard. That one confused the foreign woman, and as Ser Davos commented on how liberating it must be to be unconfined by the institution of marriage, Jon wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like not to carry the weight of a bastards name.

Setting aside his discomfort, Jon decided to take Tyrion's advice and talk to those around about Daenerys. He was curious about these strangers, and what would possess them to abandon their country to fight in a foreign queen's war. He knew that Daenerys had married a Dothraki Khal, so it made some sense to him why they might feel obligated to fight for her, but from what he had learned, the Unsullied were a slave army. If Daenerys had truly freed them, why hadn't they taken that freedom and gone back to their homes?

Jon had met many people who had experienced something akin to slavery, though it was outlawed in Westeros. His thoughts went to Krastor and his daughters, so he felt a pang of sympathy for the woman in front of him, kidnapped and forced into service. It was no life. She seemed to appreciate his sympathy.

"If I may," Ser Davos began. "How did a slave girl come to advise Daenerys Targaryen?" Jon had been wondering the same thing, but Davos beat him to the question.

"She bought me from my master and set me free."

"That was good of her. Of course, you're serving her, now." Jon's ears perked up, eager to hear what the woman had to say. To his surprise, she wasn't defensive. Her response was open and appeared honest.

"I serve my queen because I want to serve my queen. Because I believe in her." Missandei spoke with the same conviction as those who had named him King in the North. There was genuine love in her tone. However, despite her earnestness, Jon wasn't convinced. If people spend enough time in captivity, they come to need it. They don't know any other way.

"And if you wanted to sail home to Naath tomorrow…" He pressed.

"Then she would give me a ship and wish me good fortune."

Jon couldn't help but react with skepticism. "You believe that?"

The woman's whole demeanor changed. While until this point she had been earnest and receptive, her posture shifted, and she rose to his challenge.

"I know it." Her words were stone, and it took Jon by surprise. "All of us who came with her from Essos, we believe in her." Missandei continued, and he sensed that resolve was what allowed her to survive her captivity, and why the queen had taken her as an advisor. "She's not our queen because she's the daughter of some king we never knew. She is the queen we chose."

Jon didn't know what to make of her words, but Davos seemed convinced. "Would you forgive me if I switched sides?" the knight jested, but Jon was deep in thought. Every turn he made, every encounter he had, told him that Daenerys was genuine. When he first met the would-be queen, he had accused her of resting her claim on her father's name. He was now beginning to rethink his words. Missandei's conviction was too strong to be doubted. Perhaps there really was more to her than that.

He was spared from going too far down that train of thought by a ship in the distance; he knew that sigil. "Is that a Greyjoy ship?" He confirmed, and the three of them took off for the beach, curious as to what news awaited them. He knew their fleet had taken heavy losses, and since both the Queen and her hand were not at the castle, it fell to Missandei to handle their affairs.

The entire way down to the beach, his mind pondered the woman's words. Every once in a while, he exchanged glances with Ser Davos, who appeared to be sharing his thoughts. However, Jon's feelings were complicated. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but there was no hiding the fact from himself that he felt a growing attraction to the queen. It troubled him, and he heard Maester Aemon's words play over in his mind. Love is the death of duty. His duty was too important to risk for his feelings. But it was becoming more and more difficult to deny they were there, particularly as he witnessed the kind of devotion she inspired in her followers. It seemed to be difficult for anyone who met her to resist her. He recalled how he had felt drawn to her, like she was a flame in the darkness of his life. Lightbringer. He shook the thoughts from his mind. For now, he would await her return, and continue his efforts on behalf of his cause, because there really was nothing else he could do.

This chapter was a little bit short, but was very important to me, as this has always been my interpretation of the Azor Ahai prophecy. There's definitely more to it that I will address in later chapters, but as the person who has spent the most time with Melisandre, it seemed appropriate to me that Ser Davos would be the one to make the connection.

I hope you all enjoyed this, and as always, please share your thoughts! The next chapter will be up soon!