Davos and Jon, flanked by six of the best men Stannis had provided them with, were met on the small beach with the castle of Dragonstone looming over it by three quite startlingly different men. In the centre of the small group stood Jorah, wearing his full suit of armour, deep black and accentuated by a black cloak. Daenerys had instructed him to put it on to show his standing within her court and his talents as a knight. She had also told him he looked quite dashing in it, which he had promptly blushed at. On his left stood Bruda, holding his metal staff in his right hand. He made sure to stand up straight, not leaning on the staff like he usually did. Daenerys, who wanted this meeting to go well as it was her first in Westeros, wanted him to look as powerful as he truly was. He eyed the two men with curiosity, his salt and pepper beard gently blowing in the breeze. He noted how their attention was mainly focused on him. He guessed it was because he looked like he didn't really belong here, in his tattered cloak and worn trousers. That was also more noticeable compared with Tyrion, who was dressed in a fine black striped doublet.

Jon's attention, although at first directed at the oldest of the three men, was soon on Tyrion Lannister. It was a few years since he had seen the small lion and he looked a lot more refined now than he had done on the Wall. He sent a small smile and a nod to the imp, which was returned in kind. They stopped a couple of feet away from the greeting party, an awkward silence ensuing momentarily.

"It's good to see you Tyrion," Jon said, breaking the hush.

"Same to you, Snow. You finally got away from the Wall it seems," came the reply.

"Barely. They'll still want me back one day but that is in the distant future. My brothers know what my goal is and I'm sure they'll have to join me soon." The mention of what they were facing changed the tone of the conversation drastically darker. Davos stepped forward to alleviate some of the tension.

"Davos Seaworth," he said, introducing himself as he shook hands with each of the men. "Lord Snow's advisor for the journey."

"So this Snow needs an advisor?" Bruda asked, a hint of derision in his voice.

"Of course. Any man who is wise will accept any and all advice that he can get so that the decisions he makes are made to the best of his intentions. I'm sure you won't complain when I advise him to not slice your head off if you irritate him." Bruda smirked at the response.

"I'd like to see him try. Maybe he'd get two steps in. If he's a lucky lad." Oh we're going to get on just splendidly, he thought to himself. Davos let loose a small bark of laughter at the warlock's rebute. Jorah wasn't too happy that the conversation had quickly become a bunch of threats so attempted to steer the topic back to why they were here.

"I'm Jorah Mormont, of Bear Island." Jon shook his hand after a moment's pause and looked him in the eye.

"I worked with your father. He was a great man, taught me a lot of things about life. I was sorry that I couldn't prevent his death."

"Tyrion informed me of his passing. He died thinking he had no true son anymore. Maybe he was right about that."

"He told me of your exile and how you supposedly disgraced him and your family. But you never took Longclaw with you, which tells me you didn't want any part in what happened. Not truly. And if he could see you now, how you stand with honour on your back in the name of the house Targaryen, then he would know you were still his son." Jorah bowed his head at his words, feeling for the first time in a long time that he was a proper and true Mormont again. Davos nodded his head approvingly at Jon's successful attempt at diplomacy.

"I'm sure Daenerys is waiting impatiently for your arrival," Tyrion said. "I must warn you that it's quite a climb to reach the castle. Especially for someone like me." With that, they began walking up the steps that led to Dragonstone. The wind became wilder as they get higher up. As Davos and Jon looked around at the surroundings, mainly at the large fleet floating in the water nearby, they heard a familiar roar once again. Drogon swooped over their heads, quickly followed by Viserion and Rhaegal. Jon stared at them in adoration, awe and wonder as they danced across the sky. They seemed to be playing some sort of game with each other.

"As you can see, Daenerys has three fully grown dragons," Jorah quietly said to Jon. They were walking side by side up the steps, both looking at the beasts as they rolled around each other. Sometimes, one would let out a short burst of fire to try and prove their strength. It mesmerised Jon.

"Fully grown?" he asked, wondering why he had phrased it like that.

"Well, we were recently introduced to a fourth dragon. Just a hatchling but growing at a faster rate than the others did. Your friend brought him to us."

"Sam?"

"Indeed. You can tell that Hidebyo, the smallest, wants to get involved with the others but he can only really climb across the rocks here. His flying is restricted to only a few minutes at a time but he'll soon be like them. Ferocious and powerful. I practically raised the three of them from when they were that size but they share a special connection to our Khaleesi."

"They're gorgeous," Jon whispered. Jorah looked at the young man. Daenerys would definitely like him. And, for some reason, he didn't know how he felt about that. His doubts had to be put to one side as they eventually reached the large doors that marked the entrance to the castle.

Missandei was waiting for them outside the doors of the throne room. She smiled at the newcomers but also sent a small glare to the other three men, particularly Tyrion.

"Queen Daenerys is anticipating your arrival inside," she began, her voice turning to one of the Queen's representative. It quickly changed back as she greeted the others. "And she is probably wondering why it took so long for you to bring them up." Jorah and Tyrion had the grace to look abashed in front of her ire but Bruda simply chuckled and patted her on the shoulder, as if she were an old friend. He turned to the others as he did so.

"This fine woman is Missandei of Naath, advisor and handmaiden to the gorgeous Queen," he told them. "As you can see, she is just as fiery." He tilted his head to look at her. "We were simply getting acquainted seeing as there is no rush. Unless something has changed while we were out." She sighed heavily, knowing that she'd never win with the warlock. She hated how he knew that point too. He gave her a smug smile and another pat before he entered the room, closely followed by Jorah and Tyrion.

Whereas Jon simply shook Missandei's hand when he introduced himself, Davos bowed his head and planted a light kiss on the top of her outstretched hand. She tried not to blush at the older man's actions. She had never been treated so cordially by someone she didn't know.

"Missandei of Naath," he said, his Scottish brogue extending the length of the name of her home. "A true pleasure. I had the good fortune of travelling to your home city a few times in the past. A lovely and vibrant place so I did not suit it very much." She laughed at his joke, prompting Jon to look surprisingly at his companion. The old guy still has it. "When did you leave there to join this Daenerys?" he asked.

"I was a slave there so I do not have good memories of that place."

"Oh, I apologise. I didn't know," Davos apologised.

"How could you know? It is not your fault. Daenerys freed me as part of a bargain."

"And then she put you in her service instead?" He was trying to ascertain what type of person Daenerys was.

"I was free and given the choice to enter her service. And I have never regretted that decision. All she wants is to rid the world of injustice." Her tone was harder when she spoke now. Davos nodded his head approvingly.

"A worthy cause. But an unlikely one. Yet we're not here to help her with that just yet." He allowed Missandei to lead them into the throne room and they both stopped at a respectful distance from Daenerys. She surveyed them minutely as they stood there in her presence. She was purposefully trying to portray a more severe leader in front of the newcomers, keeping her face expressionless. Jon looked at her in surprise, not expecting the last Targaryen to be so...beautiful wasn't a good enough word for him. He tore his eyes away from her though when he noticed Jorah glaring at him.

"Welcome gentlemen," Daenerys began, her voice ringing out across the large room. "We've been looking forward to your arrival for quite some time. Who has the noble Stannis Baratheon seen fit to send in his place?" Jon was the first to step forward.

"Jon Snow, milady. It's an honour." It was a strange feeling for Daenerys when she spoke. She had once been used to people grovelling at her feet at times, talking to her with nothing but respect. Jorah certainly was one of those people and he still often called her 'khaleesi' or 'your grace'. Yet, since the arrival of Bruda, her attitudes had been changed. She now enjoyed when people were willing to talk to her as if she was simply another person. A companion, not a leader. That didn't mean she'd accept disrespect but Bruda was still polite to her. That was what she wanted - someone who treated her with respect, not because she was queen, but because they wanted to. Even Jorah was learning to take that risk with her. She looked at Jon and just saw someone putting on an act. Making sure he took part in the expected pleasantries. It was boring.

"Davos Seaworth, your Grace," Davos spoke loudly. "Hand of Stannis Baratheon and the man wanting to know what your intentions are here." Less boring.

"My intentions are simple. I plan to sit on the Iron Throne as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Since it is my right."

"So you want Stannis to stand aside as you take what he wants also?" Blunt. Straight to the point. But well in his means to ask such a question.

"Not at all. I want to work with him. We can both work together to ensure we win back the throne. Ultimately, it will be me who sits on it but Stannis would not be forgotten. We would practically rule together. Uniting two houses that were once foes would send a powerful message to the people of Westeros, don't you think? And I'm sure he would be quite happy relocating to Storm's End after the war is won." Davos nodded to that, knowing what that would mean to Stannis. Jorah looked at Daenerys with a soft smile, marvelling at how she looked so much like an experienced ruler. When she noticed his look, she gained more confidence from his apparent approval.

"So you are willing to work together with us?" Jon asked.

"I thought I made that perfectly clear just then," she responded with some impatience.

"What I think he is trying to get at," Davos interrupted. "Is whether you will fight with us when the Dead arrive. We don't think it will be long before they do. Reports get worse every day, claiming the Wall is beginning to almost...sweat." Bruda scrunched his face up in thought at that. He needed to examine that dragonglass.

"I have been shown evidence of what you talk about by your friend Samwell Tarly. I don't intend to rule an island of ash. And seeing as you seem so committed to this cause, I see no reason why I wouldn't fight with you."

"Thank you, your Grace," Jon immediately said, getting down on one knee. She wanted to roll her eyes.

"We examined the dragonglass stores a short while ago. Tarly said you wanted access to it. I have no use of it as it is so the excavation process can begin when you want. My men will gladly cooperate with yours to get the job done. I have enough ships to carry it over to the mainland when that is complete. We will send it over before us as a sign of goodwill to this alliance. But note that I will only fully commit to this once I have met him in person and a declaration of our partnership put in writing." They were eager to agree to her terms.

Jon was soon led down a dark corridor by one of the Unsullied guards. His silence and lack of expression was quite intimidating, and left him alone with his thoughts. The first meeting with Daenerys had gone exceptionally better than anticipated, especially because she had agreed to give them the dragonglass they so badly needed. After that, they had soon been excused so that they could be escorted to their temporary accommodation. His thoughts were interrupted though by his name being exclaimed by a voice he instantly recognised. He turned around quickly to see the large figure of Samwell Tarly rushing towards him. He hurtled into Jon, enveloping him in a crushing hug yet Jon could do nothing but smile at the familiar interaction. He even made the effort to ignore the occasional sob from his best friend. He gestured for the guard to leave them, which he did after a moment's hesitation.

"It is so good to see you again, Sam," Jon said quietly, meaning every word. He had missed the Tarly boy a lot more than he expected and he realised that he had been through a lot since Sam had left Castle Black. "But it is even better to know that your journey was a successful one."

"Oh yes. It was a simple journey to Old Town. Me and Gilly got there...oh Gilly! She's still there, for her own good I said. She wasn't too happy but I had to make sure. You see, one of the archmaesters there took an interest in me because of the queries I had. And it turns out that he has been looking into white walkers in secret for most of his career." Sam was rambling but Jon allowed him to continue uninterrupted; it was the easiest way to get the details out of him. "We had a few meetings, discussing our theories and I told him about how I killed a wight with a piece of dragonglass. Naturally, we then planned to come here because Marwyn...he's the maester by the way...said that they had a large amount. I thought we'd be allowed to get in because I know you and you're close with Stannis Baratheon now but the guards didn't seem to believe us. Turns out that they were waiting for someone else to get here, not us."

"Daenerys."

"Exactly. I was quite alarmed when we had to go stand in front of her but she listened to what we had to say. And she took us down to the caves, where the dragonglass is. Oh, you should see it Jon, it's simply marvellous. And there were drawings of white walkers, which seemed to convince her that we were telling the truth."

"It sounds like you did my job for me. Have you been treated well by her?"

"Of course, of course. We were given a room down here - looks like you'll be getting something similar. We mainly just keep to ourselves though. Haven't spoken to many of her advisors. The warlock scares me."

"Warlock?"

"Have you not met him? Older man, beard, walks around with a staff?" Sam was sure that he would have met him if he had spoken to the Queen.

"I didn't realise he was a warlock." In truth, Jon hadn't paid much attention to the strange man who spoke with an exuberance that didn't match his apparent age. "That should be interesting. I was told you gave her a dragon?"

"We haven't given Hidebyo to her, no. Marwyn was given a dragons egg years ago and thought it time to see if it was real. We placed it in wildfire, Jon. It was terrifying. But it worked. He's growing so fast. But enough about me. You've been just as busy by the sounds of things. What was it like? Fighting to get Winterfell back?" Before Jon could answer, they were interrupted by another person speaking.

"Jon?" The voice came from further down the corridor, prompting him to turn around. Another voice he would always recognise. Arya was stood a bit away from them, dressed in a leather brown top and brown pants, with a fur cloak draped over her shoulder. It was startling to Jon how much she resembled their father.

Arya hadn't been aware of the arrival of more people until after they had met with Daenerys. She had been on her way to try and find out who they were, planning on climbing up a suitable wall she had found to spy on the party. Instead, she had heard voices down the corridor she was walking in and had made sure to keep to the shadows but then, as she got closer, she had heard his voice.

"How did you sneak up on us?" Jon asked her, worried that his senses were dimming.

"How did you manage to become a leading diplomat for a Baratheon?" They stared at each other before they both broke into a smile. Arya ran at him and leapt into his strong arms, Jon holding her close as they hugged. He eventually lowered her to the floor and introduced her to Sam, who he had forgotten was stood there during their little reunion. He looked down at her and noticed a glint of metal by her side.

"You kept it." She drew the small sword out from its place at her waist and held it out across her palms.

"Needle," came the reply, a proud smile on her face. It was her only momento of a home she had left behind.

"Have you ever had to use it?" he asked hesitantly. Her smile faltered.

"Once or twice." He looked forlornly at her, wishing that she hadn't been through whatever she had. Wishing that he hadn't left her behind all those years ago. But now they were together, and they would be able to go home together. That's if their home would last the coming war. Yet, for now, he didn't want to think about any of that. He didn't need to discuss such things with his little sister. He had thought she were likely dead and yet she stood right in front of him, a young woman who still resembled the small girl he had known. They had a lot of catching up to do.

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Jorah and Daenerys were sat in her private chambers, enjoying being able to spend some time in each other's company. Since their arrival at Dragonstone, it had been increasingly chaotic, especially with the unexpected arrival of Sam and Marwyn, coupled with the visit of Jon and Davos. Jorah had noticed that, ever since she had been introduced to the threat of the white walkers, her demeanour had become more serious. The only times it changed were when Bruda made her laugh, not always on purpose, or when they were together. He did also enjoy getting to be with her when she wasn't in the persona of an imperious ruler.

Daenerys was sat on a plush sofa, one of the few luxuries left behind in the castle. She enjoyed lying on it, spending her time thinking about the situation she was in. She was being driven off course. She had come to Westeros for the throne yet she was now becoming embroiled in a war she had little knowledge about. That didn't mean she didn't believe what she had been told about the white walkers but she wondered why fate was pushing her towards the North. Bruda had spoken to her a couple of times about how something was pushing them towards Winterfell and he seemed content with letting whatever it was direct them. It almost felt like he wanted, or even needed, to go. She trusted him though, against her better judgement, and had decided she would go there. She just couldn't shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on.

Jorah was stood up towards the corner of the room. He had taken off his armour after their guests had been shown to their rooms. He was now clad in his yellow tunic and brown pants. It was too cold for shorts he had found. He watched Daenerys as she battled with her thoughts and knew that had to distract her from them so that she could relax at least a little bit. "You did well today, Khaleesi," he spoke, his voice sounding louder than it was against the quiet that had settled. His words brought her attention back to the present as she sat up on the sofa.

"You think so?" She still always liked to hear his praise. She poured herself a drink, a sweet honey wine that they had brought over from Essos.

"Definitely. You become more of a ruler with each day. It is quite frightening to see the girl I once knew sat up there."

"I am a woman now, Jorah. I thought I had gotten that into your head." She smirked at his blush and subsequent stammering. "Maybe I'll just have to remind you at some point." He was already looking forward to it.

"My point is," he began, trying to tear his thoughts away from...that. "You are showing them that you will not roll over. Proving to them that you will one day be a good Queen, one that the kingdom needs desperately."

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing though? Agreeing to fight in a war I have no stakes in?" Hearing herself voice these questions reminded her of how she still had concerns about risking everything on this.

"You want to rule Westeros. Normal thinking would tell you that you should then focus on winning the throne before committing to another war."

"So I'm making a mistake."

"No, no. This isn't a normal situation. You should join them. If we lose, then there would be nothing to rule anyway. But, if we win, then it will be easier for you to take what is yours. If you targeted King's Landing first, then you risk giving the Night King the upper hand."

"You believe what they say then? The dead coming back to life to kill us, their ruler able to turn us into his soldiers?"

"I was brought up on Bear Island listening to stories about them. If they speak the truth, then we can't take the risk of not fighting."

"You didn't answer my question," she said teasingly.

"At first, I thought they spoke nonsense. The White Walkers were said to have been wiped out thousands of years ago. But I can tell in their eyes that they speak the truth. The fear that's within them. That could only be caused by those monsters. Know this, Khaleesi, fighting in this war will probably result in our deaths. But know that I will fight until the very end to ensure that you have the best chance of surviving." He spoke with such an intensity that she suddenly found it very difficult to breathe.

"I hope that it never comes to that."

"And it might not. Don't forget, we have a box of tricks in Bruda. He might be able to stop them."

"We can't just rely on him though. And I don't want him getting the idea in his head that he has to sacrifice himself to save us all."

"I didn't mean it like that. I talked about him because he is the evidence you need to see that things we have no understanding on are a part of our life. Some, like our friend, are beneficial whereas others, like the White Walkers, aren't. Bruda has shown you that, even if you can't wrap your head around it, you can still believe in it. So you're making the right decision, Khaleesi."

She smiled at him, her knight. "You sound as adamant as that Jon Snow." She was surprised to see his expression turn sour at the mention of that name. "What? Do you not like him?"

"It's not that. I presume he is a very brave and able fighter and looks like he is fit to be a ruler of an army. That will help you in either war you fight."

"So why did you turn your nose up at the thought of him."

"It doesn't matter." The look she gave him told him that it actually did now. "It was just the way he...was looking at you in the throne room…" He left it at that, not wanting to add to his embarrassment. Daenerys wanted to laugh but knew it wouldn't help the situation. She stood up from the sofa and approached him, a teasing smile dancing on her lips.

"Oh, my bear, who knew you could give in to such feelings as jealousy." He wanted to refute that accusation but any ability to talk on his behalf was ceased as she stepped on her toes to kiss him passionately on the lips.