A/N:Nothing much to say this time, just that I hope you're enjoying thus far, and thank you so so much for the lovely reviews. Enjoy!

The Wall had been daunting at first, a mass so large it spanned coast to coast, reached fearless into the sky like the hopes of men. It was imbued with blood, time and struggle, and though Dany was not well versed in Westerosi history, she knew enough to gauge that there would never be anything as grand again.

Looking from the top, out across lands that ought to be home, and lands that were just as familiar, and ought not to be, she felt the majesty of it all, how fearless one could feel planted on the edge of the world.

She wished she could be that fearless, wished she could stand sturdy and weather time and attack and still stand tall.

I am the blood of the dragon, she thought, stepping onto the ice, I stand above everything.

Her gloved hand braced itself against the wall as she stepped out of the wind. It still whistled past her with enough force to knock over a chair, but she could move at least, if a little slowly. It wasn't long before she spotted Jon, and it wasn't by his form or face that she noticed, but the stark contrast his cloak made against the ice. She wondered often how he spent so much time solitary up here, but when she stepped up beside him, she understood the motivation. It was like pulling yourself out of a cloud of confusion, or concern; of the weight duty puts on you.

You could be anything up here. Princess, Queen, or just a girl.

"Nothing matters up here does it?" she said, loudly over the wind.

"Too much often matters up here" was his reply.

"I don't understand."

"Everything comes down to what you can do from this position" Jon explained, pulling his glove a little higher on his wrist "this is the best vantage point in all of Westeros."

"I can see that."

He turned his head to her, and the part of his face she could see behind the hair whipping across it, was troubled "What brings you into the cold, my lady?"

She didn't reply at once, still looking out towards the north. After watching Viserion swoop out of sight again, she gestured him towards the alley, out of the wind.

They walked a while, along and around, until she found a quiet enough spot to talk, where she didn't have to scream to be heard. Jon jostled the fire pit next to them and lowered his torch to it.

The fire struggled in the wind, and although the wood was dry, it wasn't easily taking a flame. She watching him reach in and rearrange it, and then try again, until a warm glow began to emanate from within. He lifted the torch, with a look as close to triumph she'd seen yet, and placed it back into its bracket.

"We ought to re-stock." she pointed out, frowning at the low supply of fuel in a crate to her left.

"We ought to do a lot of things, but we don't have the men" Jon replied bitterly "this wall ought to be manned, even if" he continued, noting the look on Dany's face "our main threat is abolished. There are other things that could try to breach the wall."

"Things?"

"Wildlings, mainly. Although there are not enough left of them to make an attack. Still."

"Was it not you who let the Wildlings south of the wall?" she asked

"Indeed" Jon agreed, glancing sideway at her "but it was a dire time, your grace. The only thing separating us and them is nature, and survival. We have our castles, they have their huts. Who are we to condemn them?"

"Who are we to absolve them?" she countered with an arched eyebrow.

"Of what? Their only crime was being born on the wrong side of the Wall."

"Even after they slaughtered your men?"

"Just trying to keep themselves alive. Survive. It's all you can do this far north." He finished on a sigh and then looked over her again. Dany wasn't done.

"And what if people south of the Wall had come to you for aid? Would you have given it then?"

"We are not obliged the give aid, my lady. The Watch takes no part-"

"In the wars of the Seven Kingdoms, yes." She finished for him "but you are willing to aid those outside its boundaries?"

"It wasn't a question of aiding them. If they had stayed beyond the wall, we would have faced an army of walkers larger than we could have defeated. Before you arrived, of course, but we had no promise of that then."

It took her aback how calm his expression was, how quiet his tone. Dany was no stranger to distress or anger or trial by her subjects, but Jon seemed to absorb the emotions like a sponge. Taking the matter further, she gathered, would work more to anger her, than him. Her silence seemed to speak volumes though, because he looked over at her, concerned.

"I apologise, my Lady."

"No need." She sighed "it was a strategic decision, I see that now."

She turned her face back to the fire, and he did the same. Initially, she had been counting on his emotion, to tell her how he would take this news, but now she could see he couldn't be manipulated like that. Jon Snow didn't strike her as the hardened Northman other's she had met seemed to be, but he was guarded, cautious. Having reaped the disadvantages of betrayal he would probably never trust entirely ever again.

"I did come to ask you something" she said after a moment "About your sisters."

She saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye. Ah, perhaps not as difficult to read as I thought.

"I'm not sure I could tell you anything you haven't heard." Was his stiff reply. She paused.

"When did you last see them?" she asked gently, curiously. Not like a Princess, but like a friend.

"The day I left the Kingsroad for Castle Black. They were bound for King's Landing with my Father. I heard that Sansa was in the Eyrie, and Arya…well nobody knows whether she's alive or dead." His voice was stone, his face a brick wall. If he felt grief, he didn't show it, except in the way his hands had stopped moving in front of the fire. He clasped them together instead, watching them with the sort of intent one would a suspenseful melee. Dany frowned.

"Have you not tried to reach Sansa since we arrived?"

"A bird would never make it through the weather" he explained, stepping back from the flames. The winds began to tug at his hair again, pulling it away from his face and revealing its resigned expression. "I don't think I'd even recognise her anymore. It's been so long. Years" he let out a dry laugh, "I'm sure she looks just like her mother."

"She's beautiful." Dany said. Jon's eyes snapped to hers.

"You've seen her?" he demanded, a flicker of surprise lighting up his features. She nodded with a smile.

"At Riverrun, with her Uncle."

"Edmure." Jon supplied. She nodded again "What was she doing in Riverrun?"

"There at the lord's bequest I believe. She is half Tully after all, and the people need reassurance that the Frey's no longer hold rule."

Jon didn't reply to that, but his face was finally showing some life. He walked a few paces towards the north side of the wall and then turned back. "Is she on her way to King's Landing? She must be, to swear fealty."

"The Bolton's still have custody of the North. Sansa has no holdfast to swear, presently."

"The Bolton's? The family who slaughtered my brother? Murdered his army at a wedding? What right have they to the north?"

Dany swallowed, clasping her hand together. Slowly, she took a few steps towards Jon, who was looking much less cautious than before.

"Sansa is unmarried-"

"She married Tyrion."

"A union that was never consummated. House Lannister is left in tatters, and they have lost the love of the people. Aegon will not agree to that marriage being validated. Sansa is to be remarried, and my nephew will not entrust the North to her until she is so." She explained calmly "she is on her way to King's Landing, and possible alliances will be discussed."

Jon's hands were hanging loosely at his sides, and she saw in him a confusion she'd only seen that night she had spent in his chambers, reliving his history. She knew the look; it was the want for home, a conflict between his duty and his loyalty to the only remaining part of the old life he'd left behind. No doubt he would deny it, but she knew if he could be anywhere, he would want to be with her. And he can be.

He may be a bastard, but she felt the connection he sill held to his past. Jon didn't appear to be one to leave things behind, as much as he wanted to. When he spoke of Winterfell, it was in a hushed tone, and when topics turned to his siblings his lips quirked into small smile. When she had mentioned the Red Wedding that night, he had stiffened, and his lips had clamped shut to protect the truth from her ears.

For someone who had spent her life surrounded by liars and power hungry lords; from the perfumed merchants in the free cities, clamouring the right of her brother and praising her beauty, making empty promises they could not to keep, to the masters of Meereen, it befuddled her to be in the presence of someone so truthful.

Jon's lies weren't malicious – they were strategic. He was the Lord Commander after all, even without a watch to command, and no doubt he had learned how to put on the Lord's mask. Slowly, with soft strokes, she hoped to lift it away, and reveal the man underneath. The Snow, the Stark.

Maybe the Prince.

Gathering her courage, she carefully pulled the letter from her sleeve and held it out. Jon's brow creased in confusion, but she nodded for him to take it. He reached out a hand and pulled it from her fingers, examining the broken seal.

"I don't recognise it, your grace." he said.

"Neither did Ser Jorah. Read it." she held her breath and watched him unfurl the parchment. She had been wrong about his guard, because over the next minute she saw every emotion creeping up onto his face, only to melt into something different.

Shock, followed by confusion, then relief, then shock again, and finally fear. He looked up at her with barely suppressed distress. "When did this arrive?" He stated, rather than asked.

"Yesterday."

He looked down and read it again, and then rolled it up and pushed the hair back from his face.

"Why did you show it to me?" he asked softly, surprising her again.

"It was meant for you" she explained. Jon's eyes widened, but if he was growing angry, he reined it in well "I wasn't sure how you would react."

Jon's eyes widened further, and Dany swallowed. Hard.

"You mean to tell me" he started, voice low and dangerous "that my sister intends to take back the North without the King's consent?" Dany nodded slowly. "And she…she…"

Dany finished for him: "And she wants your help."