Daenerys stood on the terrace overlooking the beach barely seeing it as a million thoughts ran through her mind at once. The loss of the Greyjoys, the Dornish, her fleet, all clamored for top priority. How could this have happened? It had seemed so simple when she had arrived in Westeros. She'd arrived with the greatest army this country had seen since in centuries. She had a fleet to be feared. She had her dragons. She'd had strong allies.

Had being the operative word.

An anger so intense it almost stole her breath washed over her. Be a dragon, Olenna had said. Perhaps it was time she listened to that advice.

And on top of it all, she had a rebellious norther king in her very home, refusing to acknowledge what was rightfully hers. The fact that she was starting to develop a grudging respect and curiosity for the man didn't help.

"You seem troubled, Your Grace."

Missandei's voice cut into her spiraling thoughts and she pulled herself back to the present. Thoughts of melting her enemies to piles of ash pushed back into the darkest recesses of her mind. "I am troubled," she said simply, glancing at her advisor and friend. "Is he coming?"

Missandei nodded, glancing out at the sandy beach. "He is, Your Grace."

Daenerys let a slight frown pull at her mouth. "What do you think of this Jon Snow, Missandei?"

The woman at her side looked back at her, considering for a long moment. "His men are loyal to him. He has been down in the mines with them and the workers you have provided everyday this past week. I believe a man that devotes himself so, that has the love of his people, cannot be all bad."

"Stubborn though," Dany mused. "And what do I do with a man that is not all bad, but refuses to acknowledge any authority I have over him and his people—a people that control half of the land of my rightful kingdom."

"I do not know, Your Grace, but it would seem that such a man could be reasoned with, if it helped those people. Would an alliance with him be so terrible?"

The man in question appeared around the rocks, his stride determined as he approached, stopping cautiously at the bottom of the stone steps. His gaze flicked from the four Dothraki standing along the terrace to Daenerys and Missandei. "Your Grace," he said, and waited.

Dany had not spoken to him since she had given him permission to mine the dragonglass. Too much was happening, to many plans crumbling to ash around her to worry about Jon Snow and his foolhardy project. She was just glad that it had kept him occupied and out of her way.

She turned to Missandei. "We'll see." She started down the stairs, Missandei and her Dothraki guards falling in behind her. As she reached Jon, he did not bow, or even nod, just raised his brows expectantly.

"You wanted to speak with me," she stated, hearing the slight irritation in her voice despite a poor attempt to hide it.

"I have something to show you," he replied, meeting bluntness with bluntness. That was one thing she could give him; Jon Snow didn't mince words.

She nodded and he turned to lead the way back the way he'd come. "It's been more difficult than we expected," he said after walking in silence for several drawn out minutes.

Daenerys glanced at Missandei who just raised her brows in question. "Oh, how so?"

He glanced back at her. "The entrance to the cave we found is narrow. Makes it difficult to get men and supplies in and out. And the dragonglass…" he trailed off for a moment, his jaw clenching. "It's turning out to be more fragile than we anticipated."

"What do you mean, fragile? You said it could kill these 'White Walkers' you're so worried about."

His expression flickered with dismay before falling back into his normal frown. "It can. Perhaps fragile isn't the right word. It breaks in unpredictable ways. It's proving difficult to work with."

They arrived at the cave entrance, and indeed it was narrower than Dany had expected. Only wide enough for two, maybe three people abreast. Jon grabbed a torch driven into the sand, setting it to a brazier to light it before starting in.

She started to follow, but one of her Dothraki stepped forward as if to proceed her. She motioned him back with a frown. She knew they didn't trust the northerners, but as Tyrion had advised, she needed to take productive steps towards building an alliance. Showing a modicum of trust that he wouldn't murder her in a cave surrounded by her guards seemed like a safe bet to make.

The cave got darker as they went, twisting sharply back and forth, and as they got farther along, she started to notice the torchlight glinting off veins of dark, glass-like stone running through the rock. The sounds of metal on stone started to become more apparent as they went. Just as all of the outside light disappeared, the cave opened up into a cavern some twenty feet high and at least that many across, the walls completely glassy and smooth. Torches were placed around the area, providing light for the men chipping away at the stone.

Jon Snow stepped back, letting her walk past him as she looked around in awe. "There's so much of it," she said.

"Luckily for us. We've only just discovered how to remove larger pieces." He held out a small piece no larger than her hand that she took and turned over carefully, the thin edges sharp as a knife. "Every time we would take a hammer to it, the glass would flake off in pieces like that one."

Dany nodded and walked farther into the cavern, watching the men work. A large cracking noise sounded overhead followed by someone yelling. She started to look up in concern when someone slammed into her, nearly knocking off her feet. A huge chunk of glass hit the ground where she'd been standing, shattering into flakes of glass and dust.

Another cracking noise sounded and Jon yelled something that she didn't hear as he pulled her closer, practically picking her up and swinging her around so he was between her and the falling stone.

Her heart beat thudded in her ears, mingling with the sound of his heavy breathing as they both waited for something else to happen. The smell of him washed over her, a pleasant combination of leather and something she couldn't identify, as the heat of his hand soaked through her dress into the skin of her back.

The sounds of shouts filled the cave but no more crumbling rocks. "Are you all right?" Jon asked, his arm still firmly around her, the breath of his words warm in her hair.

She leaned back slightly and looked up at him, about to respond when she saw something shift in his dark eyes and he quickly let her go, taking a step back.

He started to say something when two of her Queensguard grabbed him and slammed him back against the glittering wall. The softness that she had just started to see hardened immediately, and something dangerous flashed across his face, his body tensing to react, before he went still in their grasp.

Daenerys felt the tension in the room spike. Several of his own men that had been helping with the mining started towards them, shovels and hammers in hand and at the ready.

"Stop," he commanded urgently, just as Dany said, "Let him go."

Both sides reluctantly stood down, the northerners lowering their makeshift weapons and the Dothraki releasing Jon and stepping away, even if they stayed uncomfortably close. She motioned them away and they walked back over to where Missandei stood, eyes wide and wary.

Dany let out a quiet breath, jittery from the danger, and she was loath to admit, from Jon Snow. She looked back at him, ignoring the way her heart threatened to speed up again, and instead forced a wry smile. "Difficult to work with?"

He pushed away from the wall, looking uncomfortable himself. "Perhaps we should go back outside."

"I'm sure that falling rocks are not all you wanted to show me," she asked, letting disappointment slip into her voice.

Jon hesitated, obviously torn between wanting to deescalate the situation and showing her what he brought her there to see. Eventually he shook his head, turning and telling the workers to stop until they were gone. He glanced back at her. "This way."

As they continued deeper into the cave past the working parties, she looked at him, appraising. She was still trying to figure him out. "Thank you," she said after a moment. "For keeping me out of harm's way."

He looked at her, meeting her gaze for a moment before he nodded. "Did you expect me to just stand there and let you get crushed?" he asked.

"I know other men that would have."

"Well, I'm not those men."

"I'm beginning to become aware of that," she said seriously.

He shot her a look, obviously taking her remark as sarcasm. She stared back, her face open, and eventually he looked away. Dany could have sworn he looked flustered.

The back face of the wall was not made of obsidian, and as they approached with their torches, Dany realized that there was something drawn onto the dark stone.

"Are those pictures?" she asked, stepping closer to examine the pictures engraved and painted into the stone. "What do they mean?"

"Look here," Jon said, excitement leaking into his normally cool voice. He moved around her, lifting the torch, and Dany gasped.

A huge dragon, elaborately painted and engraved, filled the corner of the cave, breathing fire onto what she knew had to be a blacksmith's forge.

"Is that—"

"Valyrian steel?" Jon finished, his eyes bright. "Yes, we believe so."

Dany looked back at Missendei who replied with a small smile. She walked up to Jon, grabbing the torch out of his hand and walked back and forth along the pictures, examining each carefully. She could barely believe what she was seeing. How had no one known about this cave and the information it contained? Who had even carried this information to this godsforsaken island, leaving it buried for anyone to find? "Do you think a master blacksmith could make sense of this?" she asked, glancing back at the northman.

"I hope so," he said sincerely.

They emerged back out into the sunlight, an excitement filling Dany that she hadn't felt since she arrived at Dragonstone. She saw a group approaching from across the beach, Tyrion at the front.

"You didn't have to show me what you found," she said, not looking at Jon as she continued to watch the small group approach.

"And why would I do that?"

"You do realize what an incredible discovery this is? You could have used it to your advantage? Bargained with it."

Jon almost shook his head, catching himself at the last minute. "You allowed me to mine the dragonglass. I owed you."

She turned to him, at a loss for words. What kind of man gave away possibly the most valuable knowledge in centuries for a bit of useless stone?

An honorable one, a voice whispered in the back of her mind.

She forced the thought away and drew herself up, turning back to the beach. "How much of the dragon glass do you need?"

"If I could take the entire mountain back to Winterfell, I would," he said, watching the approaching procession. "Have you considered what I told you? About the army of the dead?"

She still wasn't certain she believed him. It seemed beyond imagining. She had seen her share of magic—she was magic herself—but the thought of hundreds of thousands of resurrected bodies led by monsters in the shape of men, she still had trouble accepting it as truth.

"Have you reconsidered my offer to become Warden of the North?" she countered, casting him a sidelong glance.

He shifted on his feet, obviously frustrated, turning to face her fully. "You know I can't. I have a responsibility to my people. I came here to find a way to save them, not subjugate them to another ruler that would have them fight in a war they have neither the time nor the resources for. When the Night King comes—"

"And what will you do when Cercei comes? From what I hear she rather dislikes your family."

"I think she's a bit occupied at the moment," he snapped back.

"Then what's to stop me? Once I have my rightful throne, I will bring all seven kingdoms to heel."

Fire flashed in his dark eyes and he stepped into her. "You can threaten me all you like, Your Grace, but I'll be facing worse soon enough. You're more than welcome to come conquer our corpses when you're done playing queen down here in the south."

"Well this looks cordial," Tyrion said as his small group finally approached, stopping a few feet away.

Jon looked away and stepped back, obviously still angry. Daenerys composed herself and turned to her Hand, letting her expression ask the question. Tyrion nodded to the side. "If I could have a word in private, Your Grace?"

They walked out of earshot of the group as she watched Ser Davos approach Jon, talking quickly to him in a lowered voice. "What's going on?" she asked, turning to Tyrion.

"The Unsullied have taken Casterly Rock," he said quietly.

She quirked a brow. "Then why do you look like we've run out of wine?"

He grimaced. "The bulk of the Lannister army wasn't there. The Greyjoy fleet was, however. Our fleet was lost."

Cold rage ran over her. "And where is the Lannister army?"

"They've taken Highgarden. Lady Olenna is dead."

She ground her teeth together, fighting to maintain her composure as her cold rage flared white hot, battling with the wave of disbelief that hit her. Overhead one of her dragons screamed. She turned and started back towards the main group. Tyrion hurried to catch up.

"We still have options—"

"Enough with the clever plans," she snapped, now knowing what she had to do. "I am a dragon. I'm going to be a dragon," she said to herself, her hands clenching.

"Something's happened?" Jon Snow asked, frowning as she approached.

She swallowed down her anger and the humiliation she felt at what she was about to do. "All my allies are gone." She stopped in front of him. "I'm losing."

"What will you do?" he asked quietly.

"I'm going to take my dragons and my Dothraki and I am going to crush my enemy's army. I'm going to do what I should have done when I first arrived in this country." She saw him suck in a sharp breath. "But I still need allies. When you said I didn't want to kill thousands of innocent people, you were right. That's why I need you. What do we need to do to solidify our alliance?"

"You want the North. I cannot give that to you."

"You can." She took a deep breath and plunged on. Desperate times and all that. "If we form a political alliance through marriage, you would remain King in the North, would you not?"

The look of surprise on his face was almost comical, and he took a physical step backwards. He glanced over at Davos who just shrugged in response, also seemingly at a loss. Jon looked at the others gathered, Tyrion and Varys and Missandei, as if they were playing a joke on him before looking back at her, frowning. "Marriage? To me?" He paused, his brows furrowing even more than normal. "You know I'm a bastard—"

"I can legitimize you if that would make you feel better about it." She watched him work through all that she had said, the shock allowing his thoughts to show on his face.

"If I say yes, you would provide your full support when we needed it?" He glanced up at the circling dragons overhead, the implication obvious.

She pursed her lips, not wanting to say yes, but knowing that she had to. Either he was telling the truth about the White Walkers and the Army of the Dead and she wouldn't have a choice in fighting them whether they married or not, or he was lying and her support would never be needed. "I would," she said firmly. "What say you, Jon Snow?"

He squared his shoulders, his gaze locking with hers. "I accept."

"Good." She turned to Tyrion who was watching them with a small look of surprise on his own face. "Send word. We march on King's Landing."

Her Hand nodded. "Your Grace, ah, are you planning to have the wedding before you leave?"

She glanced back at Jon who still hadn't moved. "Might as well get it over with," she said and started down the beach towards the stairs to the castle.

"You're sure about this?" Tyrion asked, an uncharacteristic look of uncertainty on his face.

"He just showed me information that may allow us to forge new Valyrian steel."

Tyrion almost stopped in his tracks. "What?"

Dany cast him with a knowing look. "There are worse men to marry. Do you have a better alternative? Some other way to secure the North? Someone better for me to marry at the moment?"

"I do not. I just wanted to ask if you were sure."

She glanced at him, allowing a small, appreciative smile to appear. "I am. As sure as I ever am. We need allies, Tyrion, and now we have one."

Dany kept walking. She had a wedding to prepare for, and an army to destroy.