Hello all!

An idea of what might have happened after Jorah returned to Daenerys at Dragonstone if she felt differently about him than she does on the show.

I'm not really feeling the chemistry between Jon and Dany, and let's face it, if you're reading this you are probably a sucker for unrequited love like I am. I've tried my best to keep the two as in character as possible.

Please note that for the purposes of this fanfiction, Jorah does not immediately volunteer to go catch a Walker beyond the Wall.

Game of Thrones is the property of George R. R. Martin and the creators of the show, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss.

Please review if you like it and, I suppose, even if you don't. ;-)

Daenerys gazed out from the window of her chambers to view her children resting peacefully on the cliffs of Dragonstone outside. This place was supposed to have been her home, but it didn't feel like it. No matter how many advisors or soldiers surrounded her here, it felt desolate and deserted. Like the Red Waste in Essos, only without the heat and sun.

A knock at her door. This must be him.

"Yes?"

The door opened up and a guard stepped in.

"Ser Jorah Mormont, my Queen."

"Please send him in."

Jorah stepped in and inclined his head in a bow.

"Your Grace, you've summoned me, how may I serve you?"

As respectful as ever.

"So formal…" She smiled a bit, looking to the ground before walking towards him and looking into his eyes. He seemed to strange to her like this, dressed in heavy black cloaks with furs and gloves. She was used to seeing him less clothed to combat the harsh temperatures of Essos, his skin tanned from the sun. But he had the eyes of a Northman, piercing blue and deep.

Daenerys noted how chilly she felt as the breeze blew through the open window, surrounding her and swirling the lengths of her thin nightdress around her. The only source of the warmth in the room were her candles, but now he was here, and that was comforting.

"Given how long we've known each other I can allow some measure of informality. I wish for you to be at ease." She pleaded to him, wringing her hands involuntarily.

He shuffled his feet a bit but held her gaze. "I am at ease, now that I am back around you."

"How did you cure it?"

"I had help. I traveled to the Citadel."

"So they've cured greyscale here in Westeros?"

"No, Your Grace-"

"I said 'not so formal'." She chided and he broke into the first genuine smile she'd seen from him since she saw him on the cliffs outside.

"Very well, Princess." He called back to her former title. "It was an experimental cure, and dangerous to the man who performed it. I owe him my life."

"Then when I take the Iron Throne, I'll see that he is rewarded appropriately." She paused. "Let me see."

She saw his hesitation as she eyed the clothing covering him.

"It's not pleasant to see, Princess."

"Am I your Queen or not? Let me see."

He gave her a nod and pulled off his gloves. Right, then the left, catching her eyes to gauge her reaction to the reddened skin that covered his left hand. He placed them on a nearby chair and began unfastening his cloak. The layers came off until he was only in his undershirt. Daenery's could see the scars around his neckline.

"That too." She commanded.

He pulled the tunic out from his trousers and over his head, revealing the extent of skin the disease had ravaged. His chest and left arm, illuminated by the candlelight, were covered in angry red scarring. The skin looked like worn leather.

"Did it hurt? The healing process?"

"It was agony." He answered truthfully.

She reached out with a hand to touch him and felt his breath hitch when her skin made contact with his ribs.

"May I?" She asked belatedly and he nodded in response. Daenerys dragged her hand across his middle and to his back, circling him. The skin was rough, as though still covered in the greyscale scabs, but the body beneath it was still strong and toned. She was able to feel his heartbeat in certain places, it was quick.

"You're nervous."

"Forgive me, Princess, but I'm an old man standing next to you. And…you know what my feelings for you are."

"You're a man who has beaten death is what you are, and are stronger for it, by my eye." She ignored the last part of his sentence, still unsure of what she really wanted in bringing him here. She knew what she wanted, but knew she shouldn't. The circumstances hadn't changed since the last time she had parted ways with a lover over her quest for the Throne, or so Tyrion would say.

Daenerys closed her eyes and ran her hand along his chestbone again. She was close to him now, and could feel his breath on her forehead.

"It's like a dragon." She observed, opening her eyes and meeting his, which were twinkling with amusement at her assessment.

"That's a kindly way to think of it."

"Well you have said I have a gentle heart." She reminded him playfully as her hand moved upward to the side of his face.

She noted that his smile faded somewhat at her response.

"Or perhaps you were right, and I was wrong."

She dropped her hand abruptly and turned away from him. He'd no doubt heard of her decision to sentence some of her enemies to death by dragon fire. Tyrion's doing, no doubt.

"I suppose with you back I can expect to have yet another advisor tell me I'm wrong at every turn." She knew how that sounded and regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth, but couldn't help be irritated.

"No…" She heard some of the formality come back to his voice, but he moved closer to her, until she was able to feel his bare chest pressing against the back of her shoulder. "Not wrong. You were right to do what you did. But fear alone won't win you Westeros, you must also inspire. Fair or not, the people have already judged you on the actions of your father." He paused, nearly whispering into her ear now. "They don't know you as I do."

If it had been anyone but Jorah, she would have been sure this was a blatant attempt to seduce her.

"And how is it that you know me?" She turned to face him suddenly, her face inches apart from his.

"As my Queen…" He stuttered some with the words. "and only as well as you would ever have me." His eyes involuntarily moved to her lips.

Daenerys brought her arms up around his neck, slowly running her fingers through his light hair. She wondered how long it had been since he'd been with a woman. He'd been by her side for so long… Cupping his face in her hands, her fingers touched his lips. She wondered if he'd thought of her. Of being with her.

"Princess," He struggled to get the word out as she brought her body against his, only the thin, gauzy material of her dress between them. She began to feel a part of him press against her lower stomach and moved a hand down to caress him. "you must thi-"

Jorah gasp slightly as her hand rubbed at the front of his trousers. He quickly caught her wrist to still her.

"Marriage is still the surest way to form an alliance for you here. The North will never agree to rule by a Targaryen unless it is through a union sealed by the Gods." He paused. "I can't risk giving you a bastard."

"My Jorah," She might have been offended by his halt of her advances if it hadn't been done with her future rule in mind. "have you forgotten what the sorceress said? Of course, you weren't there." Her eyes moved away from his as she recalled the painful memory. "Drogo would come back to me only 'when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When I bear a child...'" She trailed off.

"What I do remember is that she would have said anything to hurt you."

"But it's true." She whispered sadly to him. "I know that it's true."

Daenerys looked back to his lips and down to his scarred chest, hands moving down along his upper arms. "You've never refused to do anything that I've asked of you. Don't deny me now."

At her words his hands were on her hips and he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. His lips came down on hers, passionately but yet tender. Fingers traced up and down her spine, pulling the thin fabric of her dress up until they found her bare skin.

Daenerys snaked her arms back around his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair as she pulled him deeper into the kiss.

His hands were cool on the small of her back. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the featherbed. Jorah gently laid her down, hand behind her head and she quickly reached for the drawstrings of his trousers.

"Daenerys, wait…" He caught her hand again to slow her down and brought it up to his mouth to kiss it. "You know by now that I will do anything you ask of me. But, Princess…" He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. "Marry me, Daenerys. I know that I've nothing to offer you in the way of wealth or armies, or alliances. A royal pardon can only fix the law. My reputation is as permanently scarred as my body. I know that I'm too old for you and that one day you will have to watch me wither away and die while you are still in the summer of your life. But I swear to you that until then, no man in all of Westeros or the world will be half as true to you as I will be."

It was certainly the most ardent expression of love that had ever been professed to her. She'd been forced into one marriage. Had another offer openly advertised to her as a mere merchant transaction. Daario had loved her, she knew, but she'd never loved in back in return.

But she couldn't accept him, or wouldn't accept him. Even she wasn't sure which it was. She suspected he already knew this, but he had to make the ask anyway. He'd been through too much not to.

They could still have each other though. Tyrion had been wrong, as he had been about many things. She could have a lover, and she would.

She could only answer by pulling him closer towards her. They kissed and she burned where his light beard brushed her skin.

It was the first time they had made love and yet he made it like it would be the last, or the only time. Not frantic or rushed, it was the kind of love that had been years in the making. That time had only grown more intense. Yes, he had thought about this before, many times. He knew what he wanted to do to her and it showed.

She moved to place herself on top. He kissed the space between her breasts as she rode him, arms clutched around him for support.

When she'd had her fill and he was spent, she rested her head on his shoulder, tracing the lines of his scars with her finger. The candles in her chamber were burning low, threatened to be snuffed out by the cool breeze making its way through her window.

She felt him plant a kiss on the top of her head and looked up to see his eyes closed, a content smile on his face.

"Presumptuous of you to assume that you can stay here to sleep." She teased, hand creeping back down under the sheets covering his lower body to stroke his inner thigh.

"No one has ever accused you of not being eager enough, have they?" His smile widened. "Greyscale scarring aside, I'm no dragon. Once again you've proven to me that you are. You deserve a younger man, and one more honorable than me."

"And what about a man that I love? One who loves me in return."

"There may be someone out there that holds all those qualities." She could hear the sadness in his voice as he said it, looking down at her.

"You're thinking of Jon Snow." She stated flatly. "It's who you were referring to before as well, about aligning with the North." Daenerys paused and brought her arm back up to wrap around Jorah's waist. "I'm not in love with him, and I find it doubtful he loves me."

"Not yet, perhaps." Jorah swallowed hard. "But you're curious about him."

"Tyrion says he is in love with me as well." She ignored his comment.

"He might be right. There is something in the way he looked at you before…" His voice trailed off and he briefly broke eye contact with her, remembering. "And you're easy to love." He admitted.

"You're from the North. What do you make of him?"

"I haven't lived in the North for some time, you remember." He responded, playing with the tips of her hair. "But Ned Stark was a good and honorable man and from what I've heard, this Jon Snow takes after him. He has united the North behind him. No small feat for a bastard, Princess. He also has forgotten the bounty on my head that his father had out, sparing my life as a resu-"

"I would never let him claim that." She interjected defiantly.

"No, but it-"

"I would have his head, first."

Jorah chuckled at that.

"It is supposed to be me who protects you. But what I was saying was that regardless of whether or not it was his right to, he showed mercy and chose not to."

There was silence between them as Daenerys considered what he said. She wondered if he meant that in part as a word of advice.

"You seem to be making quite the case for me to pursue a marriage with this King in the North, given that you proposed to me not hours ago yourself." She observed, feeling his sigh as she continued to rest her head on his chest.

"Words of passion, Princess." He stroked her arm with his fingers. "You know my feeling are sincere, but we both know it's not what's best."

"For me you mean." She clarified.

"Being in love with someone is wanting what's best for them, not you."

Daenerys sat up abruptly and turned to him.

"I won't be constrained in who I love by Gods I don't believe in. If marriage to Jon Snow or another man is what is takes to claim the Iron Throne, then I will do it. Who I choose to spend my nights with is another matter."

Jorah sat up alongside her.

"How I've longed to hear you talk like this and have it be about me." He confessed. "But it can never happen again, Daenerys. A man of the North will expect fidelity from his wife. Marriage is taken seriously as a bond there. I can't get in the way."

"Do you regret this?" She raised her voice a bit, accusing him.

"No. How could I?" He said quickly, reaching up and stroking her cheek. "But it doesn't change the facts, Princess."

He was right. He was always right. Was she willing to gamble away her right to rule the Seven Kingdoms over Jorah? Did she love him? She hadn't been sure, but had practically professed her love to him just now. Yes, she did.

But, he wasn't worth it. No man was. And as for her happiness, well, what were two people in comparison to the masses who suffered under cruel rulers day after day. It was a like a disease, selfish leadership that lasted for generations. It didn't take long until the people forgot that they deserved better.

"I'll be leaving for beyond the Wall tomorrow."

"What?" His words pulled her out of her thoughts. "But you've only just arrived."

"Jon Snow will need help to capture a White Walker."

"He has his own men." She protested, the authority returning to her voice. "And I don't care what Jon Snow needs."

"He could use another. He needs this and you need him. You know how this is, Princess." Jorah implored.

"What I need is you by my side where you belong. It's what I commanded of you before you left the last time. I forbid you to go."

"He is more important to your future than I am. It pains me to admit it, but it's true. I'll make sure he comes back. Daenerys I-" He stopped, noticing her expression change.

She felt tears well up in her eyes and turned from him, holding them back. She swallowed hard to compose herself before turning back and meeting his gaze again.

"I have always trusted your judgement."

"Trust me again now. Don't command me to stay here."

Daenerys nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed at having revealed the depth of her affections for him so openly. It was not queenly, but thankfully he was her closest friend in addition to being her love.

"Stay the night." She said gently, pulling him back down onto the pillows with her. "This, I do command."