Daenerys watched the "King of the North" at a distance as the handsome man stood before her dragons. His long black coat flapped heavily in the cold wind, but the chill did not seem to him as it did her.

Daenerys did not like to think of herself as fragile. She was the breaker of chains. She was the unburnt. Fire did not touch her. But this cold burn worse than any flames she'd ever touched.

Despite the fact that Drogon and Rhaegal were free to fly in search of food and the Dothraki regularly brought them additional sustenance when they did not seem to be eating enough, Jon had brought each dragon a goat. A kindness. Unnecessary, but still kind.

Soft. Just like Sansa.

Daenerys could be soft as well, but only when it suited her purposes to be so. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been kind for kindness sake. Kindness had become a transaction. A behavior, like any other, resorted to because it would further her agenda.

But Jon… Jon was kind without agenda.

It was why she loved him.

It was why she hated him.

Because he was kind to her and his kindness had persuaded her to believe he cared for her. His kindness had made a fool of her and she did not appreciate being made a fool.

Drogon picked at one of the carcasses and seemed content to ignore Jon's presence.

Rhaegal, on the other hand, had eaten his entire goat and was allowing Jon to stroke his eyebrow. He made a low, pleased rumbling in his chest. Though even a sound of contentment from a Dragon was fearsome. But Jon showed no fear. Heroes never showed fear. If they felt it, they shoved it down somewhere dark and forgotten. They pushed it so far down it failed to save them when the hour of need arose, because the did not know fear to be an ally. That blind courage had killed Rhaegar and Drogo. Her own blind courage had cost the life of both her born dead human child and Viserion.

No, it was not heroics that won wars or thrones. It was cleverness. She needed the clever ones to survive the long night if she wanted any hope of taking King's Landing from Cersei after. She had to become one of the clever ones if she wanted any hope at claiming her birthright.

No, the gods could have the softness. Softness was of no used to her. The softness that had reared its head within her when Jon Snow came into her life had only caused her disappointment. She was fire and blood. The long night could burn out the softness and the man who'd made her soft with it.

"He likes you." Daenerys observed, announcing her presence.

Jon turned to her and Rhaegal nudge him in protest of the discontinued scratching. She'd never witnessed any of her children indicate a particular preference for any human but herself. Even then, only Drogon showed a marked affection for her. Rhaegal and Viserion had always been more distant. But perhaps Rhaegal sensed her own particular preference for this human.

"I like him too." Jon said with a half smile. "You named him for your brother?"

"Rhaegar," Daenerys confirmed. "Everyone told me he was decent and kind.

He liked to sing. Gave money to poor children. But what he did to your aunt… Try as I might, I can't reconcile those two sides of him."

Jon didn't look at her, but she could see his shoulder tighten as though she'd struck a nerve, though which nerve she couldn't tell. She hadn't intended the remark to be barbed.

Jon sighed and looked back to the dragon. "Maybe we don't have to reconcile the two sides of him. Maybe we just have to accept that sometime people are complicated. Sometimes they are kind and cruel. Sometimes they are fragile and strong."

"Sometimes honorable and dishonorable?" Daenerys suggested, this time intending the barb.

Jon looked back at her and she could see in his eyes that if she asked him for the truth he'd give it to her. It wasn't in him to lie. Her chest tightened. She knew the truth in her heart, but having it confirmed… She wasn't sure she could stand that.

But she had to know.

"You pledged yourself to me, Jon." She reminded him, drawing closer to him.

"I did."

"Do you stand by that pledge?" She could tell from his expression that he knew she meant more than as his queen. She could feel the emotion shining in her eyes, but she couldn't help it. Daenerys drew closer to him and placed her hands on his chest.

"You are my queen. You will always be my queen." He vowed. "You have my sword and my life."

"And your heart?" She asked, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a desperate, passionate kiss. One last breath of softness. "Do I have your heart?"

He pushed her away, gently, but he might as well have run her heart through with a dagger. A pained expression darkened his expression. "Is not mine to give."

Daenerys drew back, anger coursing through her.

"Who?" She demanded, though she was sure she already knew the answer.

"Doesn't matter." Jon said.

"I am your queen and I order you to tell me." Her voice broke and her volume escalated. She could sense Drogon reacting to her rising ire.

"Ask anything else of me." Jon said, not flinching even as Drogon breathed down his neck.

"And if I asked you to kill your sister?" Daenerys asked. "Sansa… Lady Winterfell. She opposes me with her every word and action. Even her smiles are treasonous. I would be justified in demanding her head."

Momentary panic in Jon's eyes confirmed what she already knew in her bones.

"And it's all because she loves you." Daenerys said as though the words were an insult.

"Sansa is no threat to you." Jon said, his words were calm but for the first time he saw genuine fear in his eyes. Perhaps not such a hero after all. Perhaps it was just a matter of finding a fear to dear to be kept down.

"She's already taken you." Daenerys hissed. "What next? Perhaps she'll have your other sister slit my throat in my sleep."

"My sisters have no part in this." Jon said, his voice pleading.

"You gave them a part in this." Daenerys hissed. "All because you love Sansa Stark. Admit it."

She heard Drogon rumble in echo of her anger. She could feel the heat of his flames, just a word away. He would burn Jon to ash. All it would take was a word. What did she care if it would turn the North against her. She could burn the North to the ground.

"I won't lie to you, my queen." Jon said, confirming the very thing that could hurt her most.

Dracarys. The command danced on the tip of her tongue. One word and she could burn away the softness aching in her chest. She could make her insides as hard and black as dragon glass. All it would take was a single word.

I did not come here to be queen of the ashes. No… but she had come to be loved. To be welcomed home by the people who should have longed for her return. She had not come to be looked down on by that wolf bitch and rejected by her bastard brother.

Jon watched Drogon, clearly uneasy, but to his credit he did not cower before the great beast.

"You've missused me, Jon Snow."

"Your Grace?"

Daenerys turned to find Tyrion climbing up the hill to join her and her children. He looked nervous, which gave her some indication of the level of rage burning in her eyes.

She'd ordered Jon away before her temper had caused her to do something rash. The bastard had enough survival instinct to heed her command without protest. The hotheaded side of her had considered taking her dragons and armies and leaving Winterfell to fall to the dead. But despite her protestation that she was here for Jon, she recognized the need to face the dead now. The longer she waited, the stronger they became. Besides, she would not let Viserion's death be for nothing.

"Please," Tyrion said in his soothing voice that she had like from the start. "Tell me what troubles you. Allow me to advise you."

"It's Jon Snow."

"He's told you?" Tyrion said, looking alarmed.

"He's in love with his sister."

"Ah…" Tyrion nodded.

She saw a hint of relief in the dwarf's face. "What did you think I meant?"

"That… I just… I didn't expect that he'd tell you."

"How did you know?" Daenerys demanded, feeling a sting of betrayal.

"I had my suspicions." Tyrion shrugged.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Would you have wanted to hear such a thing from the man who was deceived by Cersei Lannister?" Tyrion pointed out. "No… I thought it was best to keep such suspicions to myself. After all, I can't advise you if you let your dragons eat me."

Despite her mood, Daenerys couldn't help the little laugh that escaped.

"I won't let them eat you." She assure him. "Though, I should let them eat that Stark girl."

"You should not." Tyrion said.

"She has been nothing but rebellious toward me since I arrived." She pointed out.

Tyrion inclined his head. "True enough, but you would not be executing her for the sake of justice. You'd be doing it out of jealousy."

Daenerys sank down on a large rock and Tyrion placed a hand on her shoulder.

"May I speak frankly, your Grace?"

Daenerys considered his question for a moment. She knew her temper could be volatile so she had to admire the dwarf's courage to face her so unflinchingly. Eventually she nodded to encourage him to proceed.

"My brother said something during his trial… Something I urge you to keep in mind in the days and years to come, assuming we survive the dead."

"And what was that?" Daenerys asked.

"He asked 'when does a ruler forfeit their right to their throne?'" Tyrion reminded. "When would you say that is?"

Daenerys tried to push down her heartbreak at Jon's desertion and inherent hatred of Jaime Lannister to really consider the question.

"I don't know." She admitted. "But I suppose you have some thoughts on the matter?"

Tyrion chuckled. "Some." He admitted. "I believe a ruler sacrifices their right to rule when they believe it is owed to them. We can justify all kinds of sins under the pretense of birthright and destiny."

"So you think I'm unworthy to rule?" Daenerys asked.

"I think…" Tyrion mused, considering his answer for a long moment. "That you should feel unworthy to rule."

Daenerys nodded, considering his words. "You've given me a great deal to think about, Lord Tyrion." She placed her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I thank you for your counsel."

So I'm busily at work on finishing Episode 2 and I'm just trying to find the right spot to break into Episode 3. At the moment, I think were looking at somewhere in the range of 30 chapters. Probably a little more than would fit into a standard GoT episode, but I hope you all won't mind! ;)

I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous to break into Episode 3 as action is significantly harder to write, in my opinion. I have, however, put significant thought into the events for the Long Night. Now I just have to figure out how to execute it... Hey, maybe I'll take a leaf out of the show's book and just make everything really dark so you can't really tell what's happening... Seems like a solid plan!

Regardless, that's my rather sizable bridge to struggle across when we come to it. In the meantime, enjoy all the messy interpersonal drama (my favorite parts).

Please Review!