It was not a question of whether or not she wanted him. Daenerys was familiar with want. She had felt it for the first time when she was with her husband – felt the way her body reacted when he put his rough hands on her. Rough, but beautiful.
She had forgotten what wanting felt like until one night in the desert. She was watching Ser Jorah help the remaining Dothraki men build a fire to ward of the cold the crept up on them after the sun went down. Suddenly, there it was. She waited, certain it would go away. A fleeting feeling that would abandon her by morning.
She was wrong.
Over the next weeks, Daenerys grew increasingly unsettled by her thoughts. She was not a fool, she could be honest enough with herself to say that she wanted him. And was that so surprising? Her husband was gone, she was alone in the desert surrounded by the people she was trying to lead. Jorah was her only real confidante. The only one who seemed to have an inkling of understanding as to what she was going through. The only one whose loyalty she never doubted. It was natural that she should want him. He was all she had.
But still, it unnerved her. Feelings were a sign of weakness for a queen, and weakness was not something Daenerys would tolerate in herself. So she ignored it. She kept her eyes straight ahead when he spoke to her. She tried to pay no attention the way his body moved, strong and graceful. Drogo had possessed strength, but not the sort of grace that Jorah had. Daenerys did not want to notice.
llllllllllllllllllllllll
Dusk was falling after another long day when Jorah entered her tent.
"Forgive me for the intrusion, Khaleesi," he said, "But I must speak with you."
As she had gotten into the habit of doing, Daenerys did not look at him, but motioned him to enter. She was caring for her dragons.
"What is it?"
"Have I …" Jorah seemed to struggle with his words, "Have I offended you in some way?"
Daenerys paused. Of course Jorah was bound to notice the change in her behavior. He was not blind.
"Of course not," she replied, "Don't be ridiculous."
"But you are treating me differently," he said. It was a statement, not a question.
Daenerys didn't answer, but she heard him moving toward her. Putting her dragons away safely, she forced herself to look at him.
"You have done nothing, I assure you," she said steadily, meeting his eyes for the first time since she'd felt herself wanting him as he built the fire.
"Khaleesi,"his husky voice was soft, "I know something is the matter. You can trust me."
Daenerys paused for a moment before speaking.
"I cannot even trust myself," she replied, feeling her own voice falter.
He was so close to her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel his arms around her and his lips against hers. She wanted to run her hands along the hard muscles of his back. She wanted …
She turned away again.
"I do not tolerate weakness, Ser Jorah," she said.
"I am not a weak man, Khaleesi."
"It is not you of whom I speak."
She was close to breaking. Daenerys could feel it. She was trying so hard to maintain control, but she was failing.
"Dany," she felt Jorah's hand on her shoulder, "What is it?"
She should berate him for calling her by such a familiar name. She should berate him for presuming to touch her. She should berate him for having entered her tent at all. But she could do none of those things.
"I speak of myself," she said finally, turning to look at him, "I do not tolerate weakness in myself. It is unacceptable in a queen."
"I have never seen you be anything but strong."
"But don't you see?" she was growing frustrated, and she knew it baffled him. "I am weak. I am weak because I cannot rise above my feelings. I am weak because I have not protected myself from my own heart," her voice raised, "I am weak because I want you," the words were out of her mouth before Daenerys could stop them.
Jorah was silent for a moment.
"Khaleesi-"
Daenerys could not believe what she had just spoken aloud. She couldn't fathom what had come over her, but she knew it had been a mistake.
"You may go, Ser Jorah," she said suddenly, working to hide the emotion in her voice. Already she resolved to pretend as though this had never happened. And Jorah would do the same, she knew, because he wanted to protect her pride. How shameful that it needed protecting at all.
"No."
"Are you refusing an order from your queen?"
Daenerys had meant for those words to come out as hard and demanding. Instead, she found that she could barely whisper. Because Jorah was so close to her now, and he was looking at her in a way that made her feel as though she was made of liquid fire.
"Do you think wanting makes you weak, Dany?" he asked.
She swallowed, "Yes."
He grabbed her around the waist with one arm and pulled her against him roughly. Her eyes widened.
"Do I seem weak to you?" he tightened his grip.
She said nothing.
"I have wanted you since the moment I saw you," he said, "And it has not made me weak, Daenerys. It has made me strong."
He looked at her with hunger in his eyes, and Daenerys realized that she had seen it there before. Seen it, but somehow never truly noticed.
"Are you certain you want me?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered, not even bothering to hesitate.
"Because I will not stop once I start."
His clear eyes bore into hers. Asking, pleading. Even now, she realized, he wanted to make sure that this was what she wanted. Even now he would step away if she asked him to.
But she would never ask such a thing. Wrapping her arms around him, Daenerys pulled him into her.
There was strength in wanting this man.