Excuse yourself and the rest of your entourage

"I am no Lord, your Grace." Davos states, "but might I just say, and apologies for my candour, how bloody happy I am you said that."

You smile at the man. His irreverence suits him. Fatherly and trustworthy, is Davos.

Tyrion approaches, and moves towards Jon, who hasn't broken eye contact with you up until now, and extends his hand. Jon takes it and begins to shake it, before Tyrion embraces him.

The dwarf continues, "I can't help but be overjoyed at the sight of you, bastard." The embrace ends. "I'm glad to see you again."

Jon smiles back at him. "And I you, Tyrion. Perhaps we should chat more privately, your Grace?" He proffers. "The situation I've outlined sounds like a flight of fancy, but allow me to fill you in on the specifics?" Your pussy moistens at the innuendo that you've inferred.

"I believe that might be necessary. Grey Worm, we will all be retiring to the map room. You may leave us. Thank you."

Grey Worm nods, and the Unsullied leave.

Missandei leads the group through the cold, lantern lit passageways back to the map room.

You can feel Jon Snow's eyes on you the entire way there. You also get the feeling that the other men in the group are taking this chance to admire you. You smile to yourself.

Once there, you sit at the head of the table. The others, waiting for you to take your place, sit around it. Missandei stands at your side.

Davos wastes no time in regaling the assembled with the whole story, with small interjections from Jon where clarity of details is needed. Before long, the entire tale has been conferred to you. From Jon's arrival at the wall, his first fight with a wight, the Fist of the First Man, his time with the wildlings, right up until now.

The danger is real. And this hero has seen every second of it.

Your pussy moistens.

Strong of character and made of even stronger stuff.

Davos begins to sum up, "... so in short, your Grace, we need men to man the wall, and we need weapons. Not any ordinary weapons. We need dragonglass, and where better to find it and mine it than here, on Dragonstone."

"And you will have it. As much as you need. Davos, Tyrion, please finalise the details of this for us. Lord Snow and I must discuss terms for the Stewardship of the North."

Tyrion begins to say something, but you cut him off with a raised hand.

"Thank you, Tyrion, but I can handle this. I need your sharp mind seeing to the logistics of the labour. See to it, also, that Lord Snow and his entourage have room and board prepared for them."

Davos and Tyrion stands, the former bowing to you, then placing a bracing, almost fatherly hand on Jon's shoulder, before leaving.