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Jon stood watching her walk back to the castle, or rather storming back to the castle. He let out an nervous sigh that he had been holding in since he asked to Daenerys to follow him into the cave.

"Are you alright?" Ser Davos stepped to his side, noting prolonged sigh.

"Fine, Davos."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a tad nervous. Did I miss something in there?"

Jon shook his head and looked out at the sea. Leave it to Davos to slide in the sly comments.

"No." Jon said curtly and began walking back to the castle.

Davos fell in step beside him briefly looking to Jon's reaction.

"She asked you for advice. Ignoring her own advisors. Surely that's a step in the right direction."

Jon nodded silently agreeing. But his mind kept replaying the moments he had just shared with her, alone, in the cave. And just as he caught himself reminiscing on it, he immediately dismissed it. There was no time for any of that.

---

In his room the following night, after nearly strangling Theon Greyjoy on the shore, Jon lay staring at the ceiling in a bed nearly twice the size of his back in Winterfell. The sheets were the softest he had ever slept in but not near as warm as his wool sheets back home. The room, despite having a slight dungeon feel, was elegantly designed. Dark stone walls were chiseled to a marble-like perfection, an interesting chandelier made from glowing white stone hung above, and a large woven rug laid in the center of the floor. However, like every night since his arrival, he laid there, staring for hours at the dark stone ceiling.

But tonight he couldn't lie still. He silently begged for sleep, for a brief peace of mind. The Queen, the biggest of the three dragons, all of the Dothraki soldiers, and Tyrion were no were to be found on Dragonstone.

Was she alright?

Jon threw off his sheets, walking to the window which reached from the floor all the way to the ceiling. Putting his forearm against the cool stone wall, he gazed out the window out at the bay. He tried desperately to keep his mind off the past days events. But nothing he could do could break his thought process.

He wasn't supposed to feel this, he wasn't supposed to feel anything. He was here specifically on business, to strategize, to mine the dragonglass, and to potentially secure an alliance. But the moment his eyes met hers in that throne room... Jon released an annoyed sigh at the very thought of it.

Just as he was about to turn to go back to bed, or attempt to at least, he heard the low bellow of flapping wings. In the moonlight, he watched as Daenerys landed her largest dragon not far from the castle. He turned, looking at the bed and then to his clothes that were draped over an oversized chair by the door. He thought about the rest he needed, especially after a long day of mining dragonglass, but then he heard the scream of the dragon.

Jon immediately threw on his pants, boots, and a long sleeved white shirt that the handmaidens had brought to his room while they cleaned his usual outfit that had been dirtied from the mine. Then he grabbed his sword, racing down the seemingly endless staircase, out the front doors, and off to the nearby field.

He watched as the tired creature screeched. Thankfully the moon allowed just enough light for him to see Daenerys slide from the dragons back. Jon watched her as she inspected the dragon's neck. It let out another protesting screech, as if in pain.

Jon hesistantly stepped closer to the beast, trying to get a better view of the cause of the dragons distress.

Suddenly the dragon turned, looking directly at Jon. It's eyes were a beautiful swirl of red, orange, and amber. It made and odd purring noise as it took a step closer to him.

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