A/N: This is my first attempt at any Game of Thrones fic so I would appreciate any and all thoughts on this, comments and criticisms, don't be shy! As I said in the description, there are spoilers in this fic, at the moment just for A Storm of Swords and I don't want to be responsible for ruining the show for anyone so if you don't want spoiled, look away now! :) Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1

Khaleesi

They had stood in a crowded room with people all around, pressing in to see the latest spectacle and hear her make a judgement on those she felt had betrayed her. He would rather they had been alone to discuss it quietly together, where he felt sure that he could convince her not to make the decision that he could see etched in her eyes. But she was the queen and she had spoken and it had been as she had intended.

No-one had expected them to survive the near suicidal mission she had sent them on. Their efforts had proved crucial to the outcome of the battle and yet, they all had a feeling that the queen had sent them on their way with another hope lingering at the back of their mind and that their return had disappointed her.

As the conversation between them had progressed he found himself ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by other people, no longer caring what they guessed or knew or suspected, they had melted in to insignificance around them as their words had sparked and born a blaze in the middle of the room, their arguments only serving to fan the vicious flames that destroyed everything to him but her.

He could feel her slipping from him and desperately reached out with the only thing that he had left to give her, the words tumbling from him before he had considered the wisdom of uttering them in company,

"Daenerys," he had said, "I have loved you."

"The gods do nothing without a purpose they say. You did not die in battle," she had told him, and behind those words, he had heard the wish that he had. Because it would have been easier on her. Easier on both of them. It would not have been as hard as what must now come. He believed that whatever gods there were had purpose too. He believed that their purpose was to be cruel, "so it must be that they still have some use for you." She had said, and that purpose was clearly to suffer for his wrongs. He knew that now, "But I don't." He had expected this. After everything she had said it was too much to hope that she would not. Nevertheless, she may as well have taken Daario's blade that he lovingly caressed throughout their exchange and stabbed him through the heart with it. That too would have been kinder. "I will not have you near me. You are banished, ser. Go back to your masters in King's Landing and collect your pardon if you can." He wanted to tell her that he had no masters but her. Master of his sword and master of his heart. He had nothing to go back to, nothing to go back for. All he had was her. And it seemed she knew that and would strip him of it anyway. "Or to Astapor." She continued, forcing herself to go on, "No doubt the butcher king needs knights." He did not want the butcher king. He wanted the Mother of Dragons. And that was exactly why he was in this position.

"No." He had reached out to her then, he had had to, he had not been able to stop himself "Daenerys, please, hear me..." He had not known what he would have her hear, he still did not if he was honest. But he could not leave her with those words ringing in both of their ears without making some sort of attempt to explain himself.

She had slapped him away. She had spoken true, "Do not ever presume to touch me again, or to speak my name." She had told him then. He could see the pain in her eyes. But whether it was pain at his betrayal or pain at how she was being forced to deal with it, he did not know. And the anger. The anger was the only reason she was able to go on. She was still speaking at this point, still condemning him, still pushing him away, "You have until dawn to collect your things and leave this city." Her city. He had to leave her city. The city he had won for her. Worse. He had to leave her. "If you're found in Meereen past break of day, I will have Strong Belwas twist your head off. I will. Believe that." He did. He believed it. He had woken the dragon. And she could not be calmed. Not by him at least. She turned away from him and spat, "Remove this liar from my sight."

Belwas had taken him then and had made to drag him to the door. The faithful words he would always utter had stuck in his throat then, "As my Khaleesi commands." He would do whatever she commanded, whether that be leave or stay, live or die, love or lose...She had made her choices. And he had only himself to blame for all of them.

"The queen has a good heart." He heard Daario purr as Belwas left him at the door. His blood boiled to hear him speaking to her in that way, saying words that had often fallen from his own lips, "but that one is more dangerous than all the Oznaks and Meros rolled up in one." He could picture him so clearly. Fawning over her. His hands running over the blades he wore at his belt. His eyes running over her in a way that was inappropriate for any man to look at any woman in, never mind his liege lord...You may find out just how dangerous I am...He thought to himself, hands clenching, "You need not even say the word, my radiance. Only give the tiniest nod, and your Daario," oh so he was hers now was he? But for how long? "Shall fetch you back his ugly head." Let him try. He thought savagely, but then all the fire went from him as he waited to hear her reply,

"Leave him be." She had said, and he was not sure how he felt about that as his heart lifted and his stomach had contracted "The scales are balanced now. Let him go home." She believed that she had freed him, as she had the Unsullied, that she had spared him death so that he might have what she believed that he wanted.

He remembered, so long ago now, standing alone in her tent as she asked him, "What do you pray for, Ser Jorah?"

"Home." He had replied,

That was where she was sending him now. Telling him that he was free to go. To accept the pardon he had burned all those weeks ago, allowed the hot ashes of his home to flutter through his fingers, turning his back on the only thing he had claimed to want in order to be with the only thing he could ever need. She believed that he had something else in the world beside her, when in truth, he had nothing. Would she be able to see him in what little he had described of his home to her? He could not imagine a place he was less likely to go to...

"We are done." She had announced, and he had gone then.

Thinking back on it now, he could see where he had gone wrong and knew that it had begun long before he had entered that room. He realised now that she had expected him to die down in the sewers. That she had never thought he was coming back. She had wanted the gods to exact the judgement on him that she could not. They had failed her. As had he.

And now she wanted him to go home. She thought that now they were even, that he could go home and try and find some kind of semblance of a life there for himself. She could not know that he did not have that choice. He had abandoned any hope of returning to Bear Island by anyone's leave but hers. Unless Daenerys Targaryen sat upon the Iron Throne, Bear Island was closed to him.

He could feel the hot ashes of the royal pardon he had burned being collected by a rippling breeze and carried away from his fingers, taking away the only hope at home he had been given in years.

He found himself burdened by a desperate longing for his home. Bear Island had always been, and always would be, his home, no matter the amount of time he had spent across the Narrow Sea, he always wished to return. He had once told Daenerys that Bear Island was 'rich in trees and bears and aught else' and realised now that he had made it sound like some sparse wilderness that the civilised world had forgotten about but that was all he had ever wanted and all he had ever desired. He had never desired to sit on a Throne, to be called King and to have the power and wealth that came with that.

Now he would give all of the gold in Casterly Rock just to be able to return to his Bear Island...

There had only been one reason he would ever leave his home, Lynesse.

From the first few weeks that they had spent on the Island, he had known from the start that it could only end in tragedy. That she was not made that way. She had never been comfortable there and neither had he. He had spent every day waiting for her to leave. And eventually they had been forced to. He had abaonded his home for her, and she in turn had abandoned him and left him with little more than nothing.

When he had sworn to serve Daenerys, that had been the first time he had felt settled and comfortable since leaving Bear Island. He had never belonged in the Free Cities, but he thought that he belonged with her, that he would always be by her side. He had pledged himself to Daenerys, to his Queen, to his Khaleesi; he had been the first of her Queensguard and had sworn to protect her for the rest of their lives. He had committed himself to her for the rest of his life. What she had not known was that he had sworn his heart to her that day as well as his sword.

He suddenly felt pity for Barristan Selmy. He had sworn to live out the rest of his days as a loyal member of the Kingsguard, presumably safe in the knowledge that he would only be released from those oaths by his death. He had thought that he had known what the gods had planned for the rest of his life. That had been casually ripped from him. Almost as casually as he had thrown him to Daenerys. He had been more than quick to tell her the truth of the matter, without so much as waiting to hear what he had to say, he had been eager. He found that his pity ran out then...

It had not taken him long to gather together what meagre belongings he possessed. It was almost sad actually, to see his life reduced to this. He had few 'souvenir's of his life back in Westeros, his family had banished him as quickly as Daenerys had and, ironically enough, for similar reasons...Betrayal...A bitter poison, for both the betrayed and the betrayer.

He should have left hours ago. If the dawn came and he was not gone he had the promise of Belwas' meaty hands wrapped around his throat. He found that he did not care. He had sworn himself to her. To protect her. To die for her. To obey her every command without question. But now he found the desire to betray her now. It would mean whatever shreds of honour he could claim to have left and most probably his head. He didn't care about that either. He had wanted her to hear him. And he was determined that she would. Whatever the price.

She pushed her way out of the room, sickened by the heat. She was dressed in a light, soft silk dress. She rarely favoured these kinds of clothes, not since she had left Ilyrio with Viserys to be Khal Drogo's wife. It seemed like a thousand years ago. But still. It was hot, to say the least, even in the darkness. The dawn would soon be upon them and it would bring with it the baking sun and the need to dress a little more appropriately than she currently was. She was alone now. She was the Khaleesi, she could wear whatever she chose and right now, she chose to wear something that was comfortable.

She considered the rising sun and what it meant. The dawn might bring her the promise of a new day but there was something that it would not bring. Jorah. Her exile knight. He had been there from the beginning .Had followed her from when she had first been that timid and terrified little girl trapped in her brother's shadow, to marrying Khal Drogo and being his wife, to falling in love with him and becoming his Khaleesi, bearing his child, losing his child and losing him as well, to becoming Queen, Mother of Dragons and now mother of all of the people she had freed. He had been with her through it all, but now he was gone. Gone because she had sent him away.

She cursed herself for those thoughts. What choice had she had? Yes, he had served her loyally, but he had sold her out, he had informed on her, he had threatened the life of her and her unborn child. She could not forgive that. No matter how many times he had saved her, the good a man did could not erase the bad and this bad was unforgiveable.

But however much she told herself, the more that notion seemed to slip away from her. She missed him. She wanted him by her side. For all of her confused feelings about him, and his rather obvious feelings about her, she had respected and trusted his counsel

. That was before I found out what he was. She reminded herself. Now she questioned every piece of advice he had given her.

That did not help either however. They all seemed to point to the truth of what he had told her. That he had been trying to protect her. It had been good advice. She had depended on it.

And yet, now that she thought and now that she knew, it had been tainted by more than betrayal. It had been tainted by love. He had loved her, that much was true, but that had led to an almost paranoid protection. He would have had her distance herself from anyone new, he would not allow her to take the risk of finding out whether or not they were friend or foe preferring to have her stay away, to name them an enemy before she ever saw their face, to make it so that he was her only advisor, the only one she trusted. She had known why. And now she knew why she had been right to push for more than him. Because she no longer had him.

She gave herself a little shake, not wanting to dwell on that. He was gone. He was not coming back. It was done.

"Hear me..." his words reverberated in her skull. It was the only thing she regretted about their meeting. That she had not given him the chance to be heard. She wished now that she had.

It is done. She reminded herself forcefully. Done. If I look back I am lost. Never before had she been so tempted to stray behind however.

She felt a faint tugging at the hem of her dress that had been persistent for a few minutes and that she had ignored, lost in thought, but that now became so insistent that it threatened to tear the thin fabric, she looked down, almost in irritation, but her feelings softened as she beheld Viserion, nipping playfully at her dress.

She knelt down and rubbed the smooth scales under his neck. He wriggled in pleasure, the same way she had seen him doing when he basked out in the sun and a smile was brought to her lips along with a sudden desire to free herself from the weary constraints of the room.

She had stepped out on to the terrace earlier, unable to sleep, and had met with Barristan Selmy. She had sent him back inside and stood out for a few more minutes before he had insisted that, for her own safety, she had best return.

Now she felt a strange desire to return to the terrace.

"Coming?" she asked the dragon by her feet. He nipped at them, which she took for agreement and began to make her way up the stairs.

"My lady," Selmy was upon her. He seemed intent on documenting her every breath and had rarely left her from his sight since the Meros incident, "I shall accompany you, you should not go anywhere alone."

She noted that he had not asked to go with her but had informed her that he was coming with her. She bristled at that.

"I thank you ser," she told him, as courteously as she could, "But it is my wish to be alone just now."

"I must insist-"he began. She knew he meant well but she could not suffer the claustrophobia that had descended over her,

"I must insist more strongly ser." She told him flatly, shaking her head irritably,

"My Queen you have many enemies-"he pushed persistently,

"And am unlikely to make any more alone on the roof terrace." She told him firmly,

"No," he agreed, "But the ones that you have may well seize the chance to attack you."

"Would you follow me everywhere I go for the rest of my life ser?" she demanded hotly, "That cannot be allowed to happen. A queen who surrounds herself with no-one is just as vulnerable as a queen who is never left alone. I need my freedom ser and I am no longer asking you to remain."

With that, she turned, Viserion at her heels, and stalked up the stairs, leaving the somewhat shocked knight at the bottom of the stairs.

She stepped out on to the terrace and inhaled deeply, bracing her hands on the thick concrete wall, smiling as Viserion took off in a flurry of wings and fluttered lazily over the city, silhouetted against the rising sun. She watched him and felt that she was able to breathe for the first time in too long. A small smile graced her features.

"Khaleesi."

The voice behind her made her jump and turn and she almost shouted out for Selmy, cursing herself for not accepting his protection but the cry was lost in her throat as she saw the owner of the voice and felt shock claim her own...

He watched her step out on to the terrace, as he had known she would and felt content for the first time since she had dismissed him. He was glad now that he had done this. Whatever happened, he would not regret this decision.

The sight of Viserion snapping playfully at her heels threw him for a moment. He expected that the dragon would give him away but while he glanced towards him, he did nothing to warn the woman by his side, instead throwing himself into the air and performing a lazy corkscrew for her entertainment.

He watched her lean out over the wall, draping herself across it and drinking in her city. She looked especially beautiful tonight, if a little strained. The dress she had worn was a light powder blue silk that drenched her and covered her figure without drowning it, framing her whenever she moved but concealing the true beauty he knew lingered beneath it whenever she stood still as she did now.

The wind caught and lifted her light silver- blond tresses and cast them skyward, causing them to float around in a gentle halo around her head as she stood, the ghost of a smile coating her lips as she stood and watched the playful dragon hover above the city.

He would have liked to stand and let her be for longer but he knew that his time was precious, that he had little enough chance as it was and that the longer he stood there the likelier it became that the insufferable shadow Selmy would make an appearance.

Instead, he stepped out of the shadows and murmured softly,

"Khaleesi..."