The first time it happens, Jorah thinks their perilous trek through the Red Waste is coming to an abrupt end. That it is all over. Hearing Dany's terrified screams, knowing he is too late to ward off her attacker, too late to save her, will stay with him for the rest of his life. He's never been so terrified as in this moment, when he is confronted with the possibility of a life without Daenerys Stormborn. But when he finally reaches her tent, panting, he finds her asleep. Although, asleep is the wrong word to describe her fitful turning, struggling, her anxious screams. 'She's trying to fight off an attacker in her sleep', he just has time to think when he hears her voice utter one word, and his world stands still.
"Jorah." He thinks he must have heard wrong, is convinced of it, when she starts talking in her sleep again.
"Noooo, Jorah! Please, Jorah!"
His khaleesi, the queen of his heart, is having a nightmare and is begging him to help her. He is in her dreams! This is more than he can wrap his mind around at that moment, and he does the first thing that comes to mind, that feels natural. Kneeling down next to her sleeping form, he carefully touches her shoulder and tries to wake her from her nightmare. When this does not have the desired effect, his touch becomes a bit more self assured, and he whispers her name.
This seems to calm her, and she turns towards him. Wanting to erase even the last traces of her nightmare, he softly strokes her hair, and keeps talking to her in hushed tones. At this, she turns to him more fully, trying to get as close to him in her sleep as possible, thereby tipping his precarious balance, causing him to end up sitting on the floor of her tent, her head in his lap. He tries to get up, her using him as a cushion was not his intention, is terribly inappropriate in fact, but as soon as he tries to put a more respectable distance between them, she starts to become restless again. Sighing, he resigns himself to the fate of playing cushion for his khaleesi. A small thing, in the grand scheme of things, and if it keeps her nightmares at bay, he's more than willing to sacrifice his sleep, and the comfort of his sleeping mat, to watch over her and guard her sleep.
The morning after the first time it happens will be forever imprinted in her mind as the quintessential perfect way to wake up. She can't remember feeling this content, happy, and most of all secure, ever before in her life. As she lingers between dream and real world, trying to hold on to this feeling, to soak it up and store it deep inside her heart, she notices two things.
One, she's lying on a pillow, even though she's very certain the last time she enjoyed the luxury of a pillow was weeks ago, when her Sun and Stars was still alive, before they started this long, perilous trek through the desert. Two, there's a comfortable, warm weight on her head. Almost, as if someone was stroking her hair, cradling her head. This confuses her more than the inexplicable pillow, because she can't remember anyone doing that for her, ever. As much as she had grown to enjoy the company of her Dothraki husband, her late Dothraki husband, she corrects herself, he wasn't exactly the cuddling type. She forces herself to put all thoughts of Drogo out of her head, to not indulge in painful memories. 'If I look back, I'm lost'.
A slight movement from the warm weight on her head pulls her out of her thoughts. 'So it really is a hand', she thinks. As this begins to sink in, her eyes fly open. There's someone in her tent, touching her!
Careful and slow as to not alert the intruder, she moves her head to get a clear view of the culprit, and finds herself face to face with a sleeping Ser Jorah. Her eyes widen in surprise, as she takes in the sight before her. Jorah is sitting on the floor of her tent, her head cradled in his lap, one of his hands resting protectively on her hair while the other is stretched out behind him, keeping him from falling back. His head is tilted forwards at an awkward angle, but he seems to be fast asleep. As she takes all this in, trying to makes sense of this unusual situation, something is nagging her at the back of her mind. She can't quite place it, but she senses that there is something here she should be wondering about.
Then it hits her. She still hasn't moved. Not because she didn't want to alert a possible intruder, she knows it's her knight now and not someone who wants to harm her. But because the sense of happiness and security she woke up to still hasn't abated. She feels content and protected in the arms of her bear knight. This realization startles her enough to sit up, trying to put some distance between them. At her sudden movement, Jorah jolts awake, instantly alert.
"My queen", he says in a voice hoarse from sleep, managing to make this sound like an address and a question at the same time.
"What are you doing in my tent, Ser." She means to sound self assured, aloof, maybe even mad at him for taking liberties, but to her ears only manages to sound like a confused girl. She hates herself for this, hates him for making her react this way, for causing these conflicting feelings, for making her feel exactly like she must sound. Like a startled, lost girl.
If he notices her inner turmoil, he doesn't show it. He just looks at her calmly and tries to explain the situation. "You were having a nightmare, khaleesi. I heard you scream and hurried to your tent, only to find you asleep, caught in bad dreams. I tried in vain to rouse you from your sleep. My presence seemed to calm you, so I stayed."
Is it her imagination, or does he almost blush and look a bit sheepish at this last comment? She gives herself a mental shake. It doesn't matter how her knight looks. All that matter is that she is the queen, and it will not do for her to show weakness, or for anyone to think she needs to be protected from nightmares, like a little girl. She rises from the floor, holds her head high and makes herself look directly at Ser Jorah.
"I am the mother of dragons. Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not have nightmares." With one last look at him, she turns around and leaves the tent.
Jorah is left standing in her tent, looking startled. After a while, his features soften into a small, sad smile. It doesn't matter how much his queen denies it. He knows the truth.
She manages to avoid him all day. As she returns to her tent as night falls, she finds her knight has made his bed in front of it and is stretched out on his sleeping mat. Her intention is to ignore him as she passes him, yet her eyes are inexplicably drawn to his, and she is startled by the warm, almost tender look he gives her. As she settles down for the night inside her tent, a small smile plays on her lips. Even with him outside her tent instead of right next to her, her bear makes her feel safe.
Over the next days and weeks, the sight of Ser Jorah's camp outside of Daenerys' tent and of the knight himself guarding his khaleesi's sleeping quarters becomes a constant fixture. Noone seems overly surprised by the new sleeping arrangements. A knight must guard his queen. And if some wonder about the single-minded determination with which the Westerosi applies himself to his task, oftentimes foregoing his own sleep, never leaving his chosen spot outside the khaleesi's tent, noone would ever think of questioning him or his motives. At least not to his face. However, there are whispered conversations, especially among Daenerys' handmaids, speculating about what might have occurred to bring about Ser Jorah's new sleeping arrangements, and about his motives.
Irri is the most suspicious of the knight. "Jorah the Andal want dragons for himself. He waiting for opportunity to steal them from khaleesi."
"What he want with dragons?" Jhiqui asks disapprovingly. "They no use. Only make noise, scratch and make fire."
Doreah has a theory of her own. "Ser Jorah in love with khaleesi. It is known. There is love in his eyes when he look at her." Jhiqui nods in agreement at this romantic notion and even Irri must admit that the looks Ser Jorah gives her khaleesi when he thinks noone is looking are laced with tenderness and longing.
"He waiting for khaleesi to mourn husband and then claiming her himself. That why he always outside her tent." This is met with giggling approval by everyone.
After the laughing and lewd suggestions of exactly how Ser Jorah might claim the khaleesi have died down, it is Irri who somberly points out "Khaleesi seem always tired. She miss khal."
But Doreah won't let her ruin what little fun they manage to have. "Or she don't sleep because her bear keep her from sleep." This sets them all off again, their merry laughter ringing out throughout the camp.
While Daenerys is unaware of her prominent role in her handmaids' conversations, she does know they worry about her constant tiredness and haggard appearance. She always tells them not to worry, that her dragons keep her up at night. The truth of the matter, however, is that she's desperately trying to avoid her nightmares. Not so much because of the gruesome images in her sleep, of cities burning, children screaming, knowing someone is coming for her, trying to run, to escape but seeing only flames and blood all around her. She's been having these dreams for as long as she can remember, so she's used to them. No, she dreads going to sleep and having a nightmare, because she doesn't want to face Jorah. Doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right about the fact that she does indeed have nightmares, mother of dragons or not.
But more importantly she is not sure she could bear waking up next to him again. The memories of that morning still haunt her waking hours, especially alone at night with only her dragons as company. What bothers her the most is not only that she can't seem to shake these memories, can't stop them from surfacing from the deepest recesses of her mind, but that, if she's completely honest with herself, she doesn't want to. Doesn't want to ever forget the feeling of utter contentment and safety, waking up in Jorah's arms evoked in her.
What troubles her most is her guilty conscience. Drogo has only been dead a few weeks, and here she is thinking about another man's embrace. Even if she keeps telling herself she is not thinking about Jorah in that way, that he is just her knight, nothing more, that she doesn't even find him desirable, she can't help but draw comparisons. She never woke up in Drogo's arms. He never stayed after taking his pleasure, that was not the Dothraaki way, so there really is no comparing the two. Except, Drogo never made her feel the way she did that morning with Jorah. And even though she pushes that unwanted thought out of her mind as soon as it surfaces, deep down she knows it to be true. Because she knows she has never before in her life felt this way before.
And that might just be more frightening than her nightmares.