My Queen

The Watch had been decimated by the White Walkers.

Jon had been the last Commander of the Night's Watch.

A legacy

A curse

He had watched his father, Eddard Stark, behead a dozen or more deserters in his fifteen year tenure in Winterfell.

And what had he done after he watched his men get slaughtered? As he watched Ghost get slaughtered?

He fled.

What did he have to lose?

Not one Stark still lived.

Tyrell's and Lannister's buzzed around the Iron Throne like blood thirsty insects hovering around a fresh corpse

He clung to the last thing he had.

Longclaw.

He deluded himself, gave himself a new goal to work towards.

Find his old mentor Jeor's son and return the Mormont family sword.

It had been so simple.

But it had given him a reason to keep on living. If he didn't, he feared he might turn Longclaw on himself.

His hunt for Jorah Mormont had taken time. Two years and three months and six weeks, to be precise.

He finally found him in Meereen, a city in Essos, serving it's queen.

Her name?

Daenerys Targaryen

It rolled off his tongue beautifully.

As he walked through her beautiful city of Meereen he recited it over and over, enjoying the sound of it.

Jorah Mormont's beautiful queen.

He had walked into her beautiful throne room, small dragon's the size of horses twisting in the air clawing at the high ceiling.

Jon had barely glanced at them.

His eyes drifted from the very recognizeable but much younger features of the last Mormont, from the man's loving gaze and to the woman it was directed at.

Hair as a silver as the moon, lips burgundy and eyes of lavender.

Jon was enraptured as Jorah.

His life had been lived in shades of red.

Women in shades of red.

Melisandre, Catelyn, Sansa, Ygritte.

He had never seen hair of silver before.

It was beautiful.

An elderly man droned on in the background to his queen, "He is the bastard of Eddard Stark, warden of the North and supporter of Robert's Rebellion, your brother Rhaegar had stolen Lord Stark's sister and your father roasted his father in his armor. I knew Eddard, he was just and kind, honorable to a fault. It's what got him killed, what eventually led to his trueborn children dying. This bastard is the last of House Stark, the last direwolf left."

His heart stung at the thought of his family.

"I know of you Commander Snow, my father's protege, my father's successor, what a visit it is to be granted by the Commander of the Watch himself, did you want to look for recruits to your Watch here? You are far from home," Jorah was friendly enough but Jon could see the gleam of curiosity--suspicion.

Jon couldn't keep his eyes from Queen Daenerys for long, they returned to her, to find her watching him with a similar expression, "The Night's Watch is gone, Northmen and Wildlings alike slaughtered by White Walkers, I have come to return something to you."

He pulled Longclaw from its sheath and presented it to Jorah, pommel pointed towards him, "Your father gave this to me before he died, it's your family sword, I thought it only fair to return it to you."

Jorah stared at him for a moment before he laughed, "You saved his life, he wanted you to have it."

Jon returned Jorah's stare, confused.

"I've been in contact with my father, well I was," Jorah chuckled, "Put that sword back in it's sheath, boy, it's yours, he told me about you, strong as an ox and smart as a shadow cat but just as honorable as your Lord father Eddard. I knew him too, not well but well enough to know men such as him are rare. I am deeply sorry for your loss."

Queen Daenerys had been watching in silence on her golden throne, "You have nothing left in Westeros, I am always in need of honorable and smart soldiers. Someday soon when my children are grown I will fly west and incinerate every last Lannister and Tyrell. Join me and one day you will have your vengeance, what say you?"

Jon didn't have to think twice, he dropped to his knees, fist over his heart, " My Queen. "

---

---

Jon had been with them for a year, quickly becoming one of her most trusted companions along with Jorah and Barristan.

But Dany didn't realize just how attractive the man was until her translator and friend Missandei showed interest in him.

They sat at a small table in Dany's private quarters, eating pomegranate seeds and drinking wine.

Dany was busy using a small golden knife to cut out a clump of juicy, burgundy seeds when Missandei stuttered nervously, "M'queen, if I wanted to pursue a romantic relationship would that be okay? I promise it wouldn't keep me from my duties."

Dany nodded, "Of course, who is that you want to have this relationship with? Please be Jorah, he really needs a female companion."

"Lord Jon," Missandei squeeked.

"Jon?" Dany asked. She could suppose he'd be attractive if she thought about it, tall and strong, dark curly hair to his nape and eyes as black as midnight. Her heart started beating faster at the thought and despite the odd reluctance she felt she nodded to Missandei, "Of course you can."