[Before getting to the heart of the story, I wanted to give some backstory to Jorah's journey to find a cure. I felt like it was important to the story to express the lengths he would travel for his Queen. I hope you enjoy!]

Some time had passed since Jorah traveled North in search of a cure for grayscale. The disease had traveled up the full length of his arm and neared closer to his chest and most vital organ every day. He knew he would have to end things soon. His heart solely belonged to another. He would be damned before he allowed this plague to taint the purity of his love.

Just as hope began to fade, Jorah arrived at the Citadel. There, he met with a kind young man who conversed about his adventures beyond the wall.

"You are Jorah Mormont, son to the Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, the old bear. He was a good commander and a dear friend." This man, who called himself Samwell Tarly offered him his condolence before he explained that he recognized his family crest of a bear. "How may I be of service to you?"

With the knowledge and help of his new ally, Jorah was cured. The reminisce of his disease would always be a reminder of how he betrayed the women he loved. The remembrance would serve as a motivation to move the world for her. To do anything to gain her trust back. After all, he valued her trust even more than he desired her affection.

He found relief in the fact that his life had been spared, and for the first time in a while, he could take a calm breath. However, an even greater comfort came from the new knowledge he had acquired in Oldtown, for it would aid his Khaleesi.

Up until this point, he had only heard stories of the white walkers. These stories were thought of as folktales. Not really holding any sound truth. Once upon a time, he would have denied the possibility of such an ancient race. Now, after everything he had seen, he could not deny such truths. Especially since the words came from the wise man that had saved his life. Jorah had seen unexplainable phenomena throughout the years. Legends had come to life right before his own eyes. He had witnessed mystical powers, sorcery, a girl walk into fire and not burn, and dragons.

His travels would take him back home, to Bear Island. Of course, since being exiled, this place no longer felt like he belonged. Instead, his home was outside of the walls of Pentos...through Ghoyan Drohe, Norvos, Qohor, Vaes Khadokhal, and all the way to the end of the Dothraki sea at Vaes Dothrak. Such refuge could only be found in Slaver's Bay, through the grueling climate of the red waste, at Qarth, among the House of the Undying, in Astapor, at Yunkai, in the great temple of Meereen, and so on... His only sanctuary was by her side. No matter the road, the climate, nor the conflict...his feet would carry him beside her until his last breath. He belonged with Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of her name, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.

Upon arriving on Bear Island, Jorah hoped to make amends with his family for his dishonorable crimes. He requested a conference with his cousin, Lyanna. Rumors were spoken that she was competent, intelligent, and rather stern for such a young leader. He feared that he would be locked away, or even worse…

Lyanna had forgiven Jorah of his crimes, but only because she admired the strength of the silver queen. During her studies, she had read many tales of the Targaryen family. Ultimately, Lyanna knew that she would need Daenerys' dragons to help destroy the white walkers. Therefore, she would need to use Jorah as a mediator. The only solution was to restore his honor as Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord of Bear Island, and head of House Mormont.

The journey would soon be over, and it was nearing time for Ser Jorah to head back to his queen. His last bit of business was an audience with the Jon Snow.

"Jon Snow, son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen." This was Jorah's idea of a dramatic line to get the attention of the King of the North. "Your presence is needed in Dragonstone."

...

Daenerys' fleet had crossed the Narrow Sea. At last, she had taken back her ancestral throne at Dragonstone. With the help of her advisors, she had made plans to secure Westeros. Their meetings were held in the Chamber of the Painted Table. Before they could move forward with their plan, they first had to deal with the growing threat of Euron Greyjoy, who had made an alliance with Cersei Lannister.

-End backstory-

...

"This place never ceases to amaze me. The Valyrian stonemasonry is unlike anything I have ever seen. The only problem is the lack of wine." Tyrion went on to complain. "I think better when I drink."

Daenerys offered him a half smile. Over time, she had really come to appreciate Tyrion's council. Even more so, she enjoyed his company, and admired his knowledge of history, literature, and well- everything.

A strange feeling pulled her away from her seat at the Painted Table. While standing by a stone pillar, she looked out to the sea. The darkness aided the true brilliance of the starlight. All her light eyes could make out was the ocean ripples that were lit by the reflection of the full moon. Her mind got lost in the comforting sounds of waves crashing until suddenly she noticed the silhouette of an incoming ship.

Those thick brows pulled together, and her eyes began to quake.

Confusion pulled at Tyrion's face. An expression he was not used to. "What's happened?"

Just as soon as she noticed the ship, Grey Worm entered the room. "My queen, we have spotted an incoming ship. Shall we take action?"

A deep breath escaped her lips, and she managed to pull herself together before turning. "That will not be necessary. I believe Ser Jorah is aboard that ship, and I welcome his return."

Knowing exactly what had just transpired, Tyrion smirk. The last time he had seen such a somber expression from Daenerys was when she had sent that man away. For some reason, her emotion for Jorah pleased him.

Grey worm seemed a bit surprised by the declaration. "He does not travel alone. What shall I do with his companions?"

Words escaped her. Normally, she could think quick on her feet, but this was different. It had been so long, and she…

Noticing her discomposure, Tyrion quickly spoke up. "Escort his companions to me, and see Ser Jorah to the garden. There, he may have a private audience with his queen." He teasingly emphasized the last two words of his sentence.

Grey Worm waited for her to acknowledge him in agreement. Once she did, he left to carry out his orders.

"I know he means a lot to you. May I ask you a question?"

"Go on…" Her sharp eyes look directly at him.

Finger smoothed over his chin as he contemplated. "I don't doubt Jorah's love for you. Is it possible that you share his feelings?" He met her gaze with a raised brow.

"See to it that our guests are fed and provided shelter. I am sure they have traveled some distance to get here." Without another word, she slipped out the door.

...

The garden was indeed a fitting place for their reunion. Here, she did not have to worry if others saw her shed a tear. She could speak freely. Nerves ate away at her as she waited for him. Before long, small pellets of rain fell from the sky.

Jorah marveled at the large dark trees that towered over him. He followed a pathway of wild roses and thorny hedges so tall that he could not see beyond them. The garden almost seemed symbolic of Daenerys herself. The plants were overwhelmingly beautiful. Yet, if one tried to pluck them away then they would bleed.

His queen had traveled deeply within the maze. At long last, sky blue eyes caught sight of her standing near a vine of cranberries. Laced in white satin, she looked like a goddess as she stood with her back to him.

Words only flowed after he swallowed hard. "You will catch a chill standing out here in the rain." Not seeing her face helped restrain him from embracing her.

When she finally turned, he was shaken by her watery eyes. Jorah took a moment to look over every detail of her face. The same one he had imagined so vividly when he closed his eyes at night. The one that brought him comfort within his dreams. Still, he could not believe that she was real. Hard breaths escaped his lips as he dropped down to one knee.

"Khaleesi… I have dreamt of the day that I would be reunited with you. My travels lead me north, and I have much to tell you. After I found a cure, I went to my homeland of Bear Island. There, I regained my family name and restore my honor as Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord of Bear Island, and head of House Mormont. I brought back with me new allies… Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, King of the North, and son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen… Ser Davos Seaworth...and Gendry, bastard son of Robert Baratheon. Though I will do everything in my power to aid your quest for the iron throne, I fear a much greater enemy. White walkers mean to descend from beyond the wall, Khaleesi. They could destroy us all."

She was too stunned by his appearance to comprehend his words. Her knees felt weak as she looked upon his face. His complexion was much paler than before. Proof that he had spent much time in the North. A desire to feel his skin upon hers rushed through her hand, and she kneeled down so that she could stroke his cheek. Soft fingers traced along his jawline. "Jorah the Andal, I cannot think of such matters right now." A smile pulled at her lips behind her tears.

Jorah leaned into her touch before closing his eyes. The last time he had felt her touch was in Qarth when he told her that he would die for her. The warmth from her touch pulled through his cheek and caused his body to lightly shiver. He was sure that she could hear the loud thuds of his rapid heartbeat.

The longing to touch her surged through his veins. He felt a yearning ache in his bones, and a strain in his muscles. Before he could stop himself, strong arms pulled her into a tight grasp. "Forgive me, my queen..."

Defeated by his embrace, she slid her shaky arms around his back. Soft lips nuzzled gently against the stubble on his neck. Silent moments passed before she whispered, " Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord of Bear Island, and head of House Mormont...I once told you that I needed you by my side when I took the seven kingdoms. Will you still stand by me?"

"Aye, always and forever Khaleesi."

She paused before continuing. "Will you stand by me as your wife?"

Her words shot through him like lightning. "W-what?" Jorah's rough hands grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. The feeling of soft silk was a stark contrast to the calluses on his fingertips. They slithered down the fabric of her dress before stopping to squeeze her forearm. "Khaleesi, as your advisor, I must advise you against that. I cannot marry you."

-To be continued-