Cold, Jon thought. It's too cold, but that was far from truth. Daenerys Targaryen's tent was beyond warm and this attributed to the heat wave brewing from the darkest corner of the tent; dragons, he guessed. Jon could almost hear them snoring but that seemed a little more in his imagination.

Yet he felt cold. He was always cold, he assumed he would be always be cold. "That's what Northernmen are made of!" he heard a man jest at one of Winterfell's banquets. But there was more to this cold than a thing of Northernmen, his cold was beyond this. His cold was a curse, a bitter reminder to what he was and is. I been a crow,an oathbreaker, a turncloak, a wildling, a craven, a crow again and a bastard. Daenerys Targaryen had been right, he was much more than a bastard but among all things he was a bastard. No titles or positions of Lord Commander could take that away from him.

It was Lord Commander Jon who had decided to assist the Dragon Queen, this was nothing new; the man of the Night's Watch bowed to no king but refused no one as King either. "If the Targaryen girl wishes to call herself Queen and take over Westeros, who are we stop her?" Ser Myrcell Alamos, a new but wise Crow had told him. And he was right, the Night's Watch would go no further to help or serve the Mother of Dragons, as she styled herself (and was well-suited as she did give birth to the last three remaining dragons in the world, Jon knew little about how much of truth was in this), then help her past The New Gift safely. That was it, courtesy and coincidence, two things that had sealed the deal. And his faith as well, or so he feared.

Jon shivered in the Queen's bed, it was warm but why was he so cold? The Others take me, Jon thought. The Others had taken him, taken him in a sense that Jon Snow would never forget the Others and his duty, their eyes are blue and their skin is cold... Jon didn't want to go further. Dragonglass can kill them, and fire,too, Jon whispered in his thoughts. Fire, she's of fire, not kissed like her but of fire.

He had heard tales about this Queen, khaleesi they whispered, mother they called her, he heard of her extraordinary beauty, "violet embers her eyes were and silver was hair", the stories went. Jon found both accounts underwhelming when he first saw Daenerys Targaryen, he was not immediately taken by her but could not deny her beauty. Jon swayed between opinions those first weeks, one because of the whispers of black magic to bring the dragons from the death, " he killed her khal for blood" they said, and the rumors of her conquest "she burned many cities,killed many" they also said. Jon was confused at these remarks because he saw neither blood nor fire when he saw Daenerys Targaryen.

She was kind with her people, sweet with her dragon and just with her enemies, he sometimes overheard her talk about her future conquest, what she would do with her enemies. "They must kneel, I am forgiving but they must kneel and take me as their blood, whoever kneels to me I can promise no harm" Daenerys spoke, "however who ever denies as me as queen I cannot forgive, I promised they will die screaming."

Screaming, the word stuck in Jon's head. She did not frightened him, many others were but not him. There was something of her that seemed worthy, something of her that echoed Jon of the word honor, but what it was he could not explain. He saw her frequently, sometimes he admitted to spying her, he felt rather shy and awkward when around her and he felt himself mumble whenever they spoke. He was the 998th Lord Commander of the Watch, mumbling while talking to a Queen was unacceptable. Yet Jon knew of unacceptables, this for instance.

"Jon," she whispered. Jon shook off his thoughts for a minute and met her gaze. How long had they been talking before they stopped or moreover he stopped? Jon saw her again,she had bright,burning eyes and her hair was dry with remaining silver streaks , her skin was sun-kissed and she was beautiful only in the name. She seemed beautiful in all of ways to Jon. "Are you awake or have you fallen asleep?" her voice inquired. "Both," he mumbled, again the nerves took a hold of him. Jon thought she heard her laugh but maybe it was the dragons again, Jon was sure they were snoring too loud. "How can you be both?" Daenerys said. He found that intriguing, she never asked, she just said things, she didn't ask for something, she took it, that part intrigued and scared Jon the most.

"I don't know" Jon whispered moving awkwardly between the sheets, he was thankful for the blanket the Dragon Queen had provided him, thankful for the amount of things the thick sheets of lion fur could cover… "What do you know?" the Queen, again, said not asked. "Nothing", he said.

Jon felt her hand once more on his cheek, she was warm. She was always warm, he liked her touch it made him feel different, different and safe. He wasn't completely sure about the last part, Jon had forgotten how safe felt anyway. Safe had been Winterfell, he supposed, his family, his sisters and brothers, Ygritte… "Jon Snow," Daenerys spoke. He remained silent, he did not know exactly what to say and he did not want her hand to move from his cheek. "Do you like the cold?" she asked. Jon thought very little before he replied, "Somewhat, sometimes the cold can be good, other times… Other times it can be very cruel."

Daenerys nodded to what he said but her eyes did not seem to hear it. "Then you must be very cold" she said. "But you don't have to be cold," she said almost at once. Jon did not comprehend. The words started rushing out,"You don't have to, I can keep you warm, I can warm your nights when the fire is not strong enough, I can keep a blaze your mornings when the sun is not enough, I can be the light in your darkness, I can beyour fire, Jon Snow. I can keep you warm but you must…you must, you must let me be. I am willing to if you are willing." Daenerys sighed when she finished. Jon stood quiet.

No woman had ever wanted him like this, except for Ygritte but Ygritte had been Ygritte and she was a wild woman who thought he knew nothing, and he still did, he supposed. But Daenerys Targaryen was Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, The Dragon Queen, Khaleesi, the true heir to the Iron Throne, depending who you asked, and the list went on and on. Daenerys had many names, just like Jon, maybe like his names, they were nothing more than a cruel jest from the gods. He did not love after Ygritte, if had loved at all. I would not let her died if I loved her, the Crows take no wives, I took her as mine and I let her die, Jon remembered. Maybe I can't love and that would be a wonderful thing, there is no pain in that, he concluded.

"Say something!" Daenerys said, interrupting his train of thoughts. "Don't just lay there thinking, please speak truthfully," she said almost as if in a royal command. Jon knew what to say or ask more specifically, "Do you love me?" Daenerys' face turned into stone and she looked down too quickly before she blurted out, "No."

"Good cause I'm not worthy to be loved, I have taken an oath, you see, and I have broken it too many times. I came here with bad intentions, to forsaken my oath once more. What kind Lord Commander, am I?" Jon said at once. "A dull one," Daenerys replied.

Jon couldn't handle any more word play, he should of never come here to her. He wanted her, he did, more than he ever wanted something in awhile possibly in his life, but he couldn't be playing with fire, to sort of speak. Jon tore the blankets and furs off him and rose from the Queen's bed. He thought he heard the dragons snores getting louder, but maybe he was all wrong. "May I be excused,your grace?"he asked as courteously as he could manage. "You left the first time," Daenerys said. "I should of left, but I came back because you asked me to,your grace," he said bitterly.

"You are mad now,aren't you?" Daenerys told him. "No." he blurted out. "You lie," she said. Jon couldn't wait to leave, Ghost would be outside, he had to get out of the premises before anyone noticed… Her hand grabbed Jon's wrist, warmth surrounded him. "Do you love me,Jon Snow?" Daenerys Targaryen asked for the very first time.

Jon wanted her warmth but he needed to let go, yet he couldn't bring himself to move. "I do not know, and frankly I do not want to find out."