Jon Snow, The King in the North

"...the 'King in the North' himself, Lord Jon Snow. Where would you like to receive him?"

You cast your eyes over the table before you, showing the full reproduction of the lands of Westeros, the ties, **** strength and positioning of all the Westerosi forces Varys' intelligence agents, his 'Little Birds', had gleaned.

"I will receive him in the throne room. Delay him for a spell."

Varys nods and leaves you with his customary, "Your Grace."

"Come Missandei." You lead your friend through the stone walkways of the keep and into the cavern-like, hewn-walled throne room.

The throne beckons, and you make your way over to it. Sitting, you feel the same oily black stone beneath you, yet this time, it is not the cold that causes your legs to prickle with gooseflesh. The power of a throne is intoxicating, and each throne you had taken always caused you a sinful amount of pleasure. Missandei takes her place beside you, and you wait.

A few moments later, there is a knock and then a few seconds of silence, before the doors are slowly swung outwards, and the false 'King in the North' enters, flanked by Grey Worm and five of his finest. Standing to the side of, and a little behind Jon Snow is an older companion. Grey-haired and time-worn. Snow's companion is someone who illicits calm and trust.

Jon Snow, however, is smaller than you expected. Stocky, and the furs he wears about him making his frame more rugged. He has handsome features and he walks with an air of authority that, you realise, you find yourself immediately attracted to. This is a man who leads, and, begrudgingly, you can understand how he earned the respect and position he has attained.

The entourage stop in the centre of the room, and Grey Worm and his Unsullied more to the perimeter of the room. Jon and his companion have been stripped of their weapons, and the sight of the two men in the centre of the empty room makes the throne room feel even more cavernous.

There is awkward silence that stretches between the four - you, Jon, Missandei and the grey-haired man.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals, and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains. It is customary to kneel before your betters, even here in Westeros, Jon Snow and companion." Missandei's sweet voice echoes around the chamber.

Jon turns his head to his companion. The grey-haired man starts, and coughs. "Oh! Of course, ummm," A slight smile forms on Jon's face, softening his features, "Your Grace," the grey-haired man begins. "May I introduce Jon Snow..." there is a long, expectant pause, "the... King in the North?" His companion looks a little pathetically at Jon. "Apologies, but it seems you're a little lacking in the title game, Lord Snow."

You smile, and Lord Snow notices.

"Why have you come before Daenerys Stormborn this day, Lord Snow? And who is your companion?" Missandei continues for you.

"Davos Seaworth, your grace, and I..." the grey-haired man begins, before Jon talks over him.

"I come to request your aid, your Grace." Jon takes a step closer, and the Unsullied follow suit. Jon is unpeturbed. "I apologise for the lack of courtesies, but it is urgent. I need men, and weapons, and access to this island for mining."

Missandei opens her mouth, before you decide to speak. "Do not apologise for being straight to the point, Jon Snow." You pointedly do not refer to him by title or with pleasantries. "This is not a small thing you ask of me. Do you not realise I am waging a war here? And that you have stolen one of the Kingdoms I currently stake a claim over?"

Jon is once again unpeturbed, and continues. He gestures about the room. "All this? All this is nothing in the face of the evil I fight. All armies across the lands pale in the face of it. It is ****, and as winter comes, **** will come for all of us. It matters not what crown or kingdom you fight for. The White Walkers care not. They will kill every man, woman and child from the Wall to the Southern tip of Dorne. I come to request your aid in this fight. I ask of you to but stall your conquest for a time. Help us, and I will help you."

There is a pregnant pause, as the words settle. Davos seems anxious over Jon's forthright proposition. Although ludicrous, with creatures mentioned out of story, myth and legend, there is something compelling about he who speaks the words. You can't help but believe the earnestness with which Lord Snow speaks.

"I will help you, Lord Snow. But in return, I ask..."

Lord Snow, King in the North, kneels.

"You may ask anything of me, my Queen. My only request is you assist us in our fight against the darkness. After that, your enemies are my enemies, your goals are my goals. I will live to serve you until the end of my days. I renounce the crown of the North, and vow to lead the North, in whatever fashion you desire, in your name, from this day, until the end of days."

Davos is stunned by the turn of events, as both you and Missandei are. He takes a second to process, before kneeling alongside Lord Snow.

It is the words of Tyrion Lanniser that breaks the silence that follows. He has entered without you noticing and stands to your right.

"Now, this is a turn-up for the books."

You shoot a glare at him.

"Your Grace, Jon Snow is the most honourable man I have met, save perhaps his father. If he asks this of you, I feel compelled to believe him. However we do this, I say we do. Stark's are not known for their jests or sense of humour. I believe this is no joke."

You stand and approach the two kneeling men.

You are aware of each movement you make, the way your dress lays across your body, as you close the distance between you. Before you realise, you are stood in front of the two men.

The Unsullied make to move closer, but you stop them with a raised hand.

You lean down to Lord Snow, and place a hand on his shoulder. He raises his face to look at you. You are mere inches from eachother, and you can smell the intoxicating musk of him. Sweat, sea-air and confidence.

"I accept your offer, and promise to protect you, your kin and the North from all evils. Natural or otherwise. Stand Lord Snow, and Lord Seaworth."