"I never meant to leave you there - a crown of roses in your hair along with everything you ever feared. In every step, I see your face, and even though I'm miles away, just close your eyes and you can feel me here."
Jorah's blue eyes snapped open as he struggled against the women tending him. His wounds raged against his movement, and his breaths came in ragged heaves. "Khaleesi," He whimpered. In his eyes, the heartbroken question of her whereabouts was evident.
"She is well, Ser Jorah," The woman assured him. She was clad in the usual warm robes of the North. "You saved her life."
He shook his head vigorously, much to the dislike of his injuries and he winced at the pain. "Where?" He croaked and his eyes searched the room frantically.
The woman gave him a small smile. "She's been at your side almost constantly. I will fetch her for you," The woman said as she eyed the others around his bed. Standing, she walked to the door and disappeared.
Jorah Mormont eyed the other women in confusion. He remembered very little yet, but panic was his resounding feeling. "What happened? What of the dead? The Night King?"
The dark haired woman closest to him shuddered outwardly. "Dead thanks to the Hero of Winterfell - Arya Stark."
Jorah's eyes widened as he digested what had been said. Truthfully, he had expected the final showdown to be between Jon Snow and the Night King. Before he could ask anymore questions, the door to his room burst open and there she stood. Daenerys Targaryen - silvery blonde hair and violet colored eyes. She searched his face and rushed to his side.
Her hands clasped one of his as she pulled a chair closer to his bedside. She looked at the women in the room and nodded toward the door. "Give us a moment."
Once they left, she brought his hand to her lips gently and closed her eyes. Her breath was shaky as she exhaled and her eyes were watery as she looked at his face once more. Her beauty was overwhelming. Other than a cut above her eyebrow, she looked relatively unharmed.
"Jorah..." She whispered. Her voice sounded soft in a way he'd been privileged enough to hear frequently when they were alone.
"Khaleesi..." He whispered as he took in her features.
She snorted at his formality. "Still, you call me that?"
"You are my queen," He said plainly and winced as he tried to adjust himself on the bed. He was clad in only a raggedy shirt. His ribs ached horribly and he knew he'd been badly injured, worse than he'd ever been before in his life.
Her eyes searched his. "I thought I lost you..."
"Never," He shook his head slowly, despite his neck's protests.
A small smile graced her face. "Jorah... You nearly died... Your injuries..."
His brow furrowed. "What happened?"
"We won The Great War," She said proudly, but her face darkened. "At great cost... I lost half of my armies..."
"I am sorry, Khaleesi..."
"I do not wish to discuss such gravities with you right now, Jorah..." She started. Her words held weight in them. "I..."
His eyes searched her face curiously as she struggled for words. He'd looked at her for so many years, heard her speak so many times, and never had she looked so... Nervous.
"I failed you," He said sadly.
"No," She said firmly and his eyes found hers again. "I failed you." He tried to counter her, but she silenced him. "You have been my strength, my most trusted advisor... And yet, I failed you. I could not see what was right in front of me until it was nearly too late. You saved my life. You... Nearly died for me."
"It would have been a good death, Khaleesi."
"I cannot lose you, and I realize that now. I will not make the same mistake again," She said with conviction.
"I pledged myself to you, to serve you, protect you, defend you... It is my duty..."
She shook her head. "Jorah... How could I have been so blind?"
"I don't understand..."
"You have loved me all this time..." A tear fell down her cheek. "And I did not see what it meant until you were dying in my arms on that battle field surrounded by the dead."
"Khaleesi..."
"I have a name."
He studdered and then shut his mouth tightly. Looking away from her, his mind reeled. He'd done his best, hadn't he? They'd won. Why did she sound disappointed?
"Jorah..."
His eyes remained focused on the flames flickering in the hearth. She moved next to him and her pale hand stroked his cheek. Unable to resist her touch, he leaned into her fingers slightly.
"Jorah..." She called for his eyes again, and he could not resist. Blue eyes met purple. "I am so sorry."
"There's no need for you to apologize."
"You have loved me, and I have been blind."
"No," He said firmly. "I have loved you, and you have been a queen." His heart was racing against his battered rib cage.
"Jorah, I am sorry for your suffering."
"I have not suffered," He tried to say, but she sighed heavily and he stopped.
"You deserved more from me. You have deserved love in return. Instead, you've stayed at my side faithfully while I've been with other men."
"You deserve to be happy," He said softly.
"And what if you make me happy, Jorah the Andal?"
"I am not a choice. I am a disgraced Westerosi Knight. I lost all lands and titles to exile and shame."
"Under which queen? Yours will not have that stand when she takes her throne."
He stared at her in disbelief. Her words made little sense to him in his pain and foggy memory. "Khaleesi..."
"You have loved me. Allow me to love you back."
He narrowed his eyes. "Jon Snow?"
She shuddered briefly and her eyes dropped to his bed. "He..."
"What?"
"He's my nephew."
"I..." Jorah stumbled for words. He was normally so calm and collected. Disorientation was unfamiliar territory for him.
"My brother, Rhaegar, had his first marriage annulled. In secret, he wed Lyanna Stark. Rhaegar died. Lyanna died after having Jon, and she swore her brother Ned to secrecy because she knew Robert Baratheon would have the baby murdered if he'd known."
Jorah watched her as she spoke. Confusion colored his stubbled face. "Your nephew?"
"Yes," She said quietly. "It is as much a shock to me as it is to you, I am sure."
"Then... He... He has a claim to your throne," Jorah said suddenly. "He..."
"Yes," Daenerys said and nodded slowly.
"Who else knows?"
"His brother, Brandon, and Samwell. Jon intends to tell Sansa and Arya as well."
"Should he tell them, it will no longer be a secret..."
"He's pledged his fealty to me, to my claim to the throne. He does not want to be king."
"It doesn't matter what he wants."
"I do not wish to argue about Jon Snow," Dany said. "I wish to ask your forgiveness, and to ask for your affections."
"There is nothing to forgive," Jorah said and tried to sit up in the bed, but whimpered in pain when he moved. She winced at seeing him in pain, and stroked his cheek once more. "You've always had my affections." Blushing, he looked away from her.
Leaning toward him as he lay on the bed, she whispered, "Jorah..."
Looking back at her, he swallowed hard. She kissed his cheek several times lightly, and when her mouth moved closer to his, he whimpered and pushed her back gently. "Khaleesi..."
"Stop calling me that," She whispered and studied his face. "This isn't what you want anymore?" She leaned away from him and her face hardened in embarrassment.
He squeezed her hand hard. "On the contrary, it is exactly what I want."
"Then why are you pushing me away?"
"I am not the appropriate choice for you, Khaleesi. You are a queen. You should be with a king."
"You do not get to make my choices for me, Jorah." She chided.
Frowning, he tried to lean forward, to implore her to see reason, but pain tore through his abdomen and he collapsed onto the pillows once more. He saw stars in his eyes as she touched his hair gently.
"Please," He began, but the pain was overpowering.
She silenced him by touching her fingertip to his lips. "Rest now," She said softly. "I will be here when you wake. Rest. That's an order, Ser Jorah the Andal."