I did not plan on adding to this story, but here we are. These chapters aren't necessarily linked, but follow the same theme. Happier stories are ahead, I promise.

Daenerys found solace in the calm silence that surrounded her as she roamed the empty corridors of Dragonstone. She had suffered her way through another unsuccessful meeting with her advisors. Discussions with her allies had become increasingly painful. She was not blind; she could see the doubt etched upon their faces. This same doubt had crept its way into her own heart and she hated that it was reflected back at her when she looked around the room. Her confidence had burned to the ground to become ashes of uncertainty. No one believed in her and the earth beneath her feet felt unstable.

Unbeknownst to Daenerys, the tiniest thought of faith had brought her heart to the one place it knew it could rest.

Daenerys' eyes burned with unshed tears as she found herself standing outside the bedchambers that had once belonged to her knight. Her fingertips brushed along the wooden edges of the door as she tried to summon up enough courage to enter the preserved space. She had walked past the room countless times over the past few days, always hesitating for a moment before turning away. The wooden door felt like the only barrier between her and pleasant memories left to spoil.

Daenerys hated how much it hurt to think of Ser Jorah because he had been one of the greatest sources of happiness in her life. Without memories of him, she was left with too much misery and sadness. She despised the physical ache of her grief and the way it hollowed out her chest.

Daenerys straightened as Ser Jorah's warm gaze flashed across her memory. He deserved to be remembered, no matter how much pain it caused her. It was selfish of her to push him away in death when he had died so selflessly for her.

Taking a deep breath, Daenerys pushed against the solid door and slowly stepped into the room. Part of her prayed she would find her knight sitting by the fire in his room; his soft, blue eyes ready to greet her. She knew this dream was the true reason for her hesitation. Once she entered the room and found it empty, all hope would be gone...he would be gone.

Daenerys held her breath until the door closed softly behind her, leaving her alone in the empty space. It was completely silent and Daenerys squeezed her eyes shut to drown out the pounding of her heart. She didn't understand how something that felt so broken could continue to beat so fiercely.

The small space still held Ser Jorah's scent; a smell so unique to him that she struggled to describe it. It reminded her of fresh, open fields and nights beneath starry skies. Somehow, the scent itself felt like pressing her face against the grassy earth and hearing nothing but the sound her own heartbeat. She was grateful she had shut the door because she wanted to trap the smell inside for as long as possible.

Daenerys slowly opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. The room was poorly lit by thin beams of sunlight filtered through a small window. The light caught on dust particles drifting through the air, which formed eerie shadows that only seemed to enhance the emptiness of the room.

Although the walls and floor of the bedchamber were made of stone, the space felt anything but cold. There were no elaborate decorations or fancy paintings adorning the walls and she was happy for it. Her knight had never been one to hide behind faux luxury or grandeur and his room reflected that in its simplicity. Even the bed in the center of the room was practical; its wooden posts matching the legs of the desk leaning heavily against the wall in the opposite corner. The blankets and furs on the bed were arranged neatly and looked untouched.

Daenerys' heart clenched painfully as she noticed familiar objects around the room. She moved to the nearby desk and touched her fingertips to the leather-bound books stacked together on its surface. A sad, wistful smile tugged on her lips.

It had always seemed strange for a fierce knight to be so interested in reading, but she had always admired and benefited from his wealth of knowledge. He had passed on his love of reading with his first gift to her and it was a gift she cherished. It amazed Daenerys that even then, while so many others had strived to impress her or earn her favor, he had sought to bring her comfort. There had been so many elaborate and expensive wedding gifts with no personal meaning, but her knight had gifted her with something he found solace in...something he had hoped would bring her strength when facing her new world. He had not known that his loyalty alone would bring her that strength.

Daenerys' gaze pulled her from her thoughts as her eyes recognized Ser Jorah's handwriting scrawled across a small piece of parchment, which had been deliberately placed on the center of the desk. Daenerys felt her breath escape in a tight gasp as she saw her name etched as the first word on the page. She reached out with shaking hands to pull the letter closer and began to read.

Khaleesi,

I'm writing this letter with the hope that it is an unnecessary farewell and I will be able to destroy it once I return to Dragonstone with you at the end of this war.

I don't believe there is much left unsaid between us, but you deserve my final words of devotion.

There is not a moment of any day spent by your side that I would change. I have lived a life full of regret, but believing in you has been my absolute purpose and salvation. Serving you has been the greatest honor of my life. After all this time, I am more certain than ever that you will change our world for the better.

All my love,

Jorah

Daenerys' retraced each line of the letter repeatedly with her eyes, desperately memorizing the curves of his handwriting and only stopping once they become a blur of tears. She let out a strangled sob as she clutched the parchment to her chest and sank to the floor.

Ser Jorah had known before they had even journeyed to the North that he would likely meet his end and still he followed her. He had been so completely devoted to her until the very end. Even his words were designed to comfort her from beyond the grave.

Her biggest failure had erupted from the one part of her that Ser Jorah dare not advise - her heart. She had not understood real love until she had basked in the unwavering strength of Ser Jorah's devotion. Just as he had taught her many other lessons in life, Ser Jorah had taught her to love. No one had truly loved her before her knight. His love had always been selfless and true.

At first, Ser Jorah's love had intimidated and confused her as she had only ever felt the burdening affections of her brother. Later, she had ignored Ser Jorah's love in a misguided effort to maintain it. Daenerys had feared his affections would wane once left uncovered...similar to a secret, which becomes extinct once divulged. His love had never been a secret and she should have known that it would not fade with time.

The sudden regret and longing Daenerys felt was pure agony threatening to suffocate her if she remained alone.

Daenerys stumbled to her feet and somehow made it to the bed. She clawed at the furs and burrowed beneath the blankets in a weak attempt to remain close to her knight. She clutched Ser Jorah's letter in an unbreakable grasp as she hugged the heavy blankets tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes and imagined her arms wrapped around Ser Jorah in place of the worthless fabric.

With closed eyes and a relaxed mind, Daenerys could almost hear the echo of Ser Jorah's voice reading his words to her aloud. Daenerys felt a miraculous wave of peace wash over her as she lay in the room she had believed too painful to enter only moments ago. She should've known better...no one had ever brought her more comfort than Ser Jorah. In that moment, even the grim fantasy of his ghost felt reassuring.

So there the Queen lay; feeling less alone in an empty room, surrounded by the ghost of her greatest love than she did in an entire hall filled with people deemed her closest allies and advisors.

I will admit this one is not a happy ending. I wrote it an attempt to portray Daenerys' grief beyond what we saw on the screen.

It's difficult to find the balance between doing a character's grief justice and not allowing it to linger for too long. I think we (to an extent) enjoy seeing grief portrayed on TV because it is such a raw emotion that most people experience at some point in their life. We want to relate to our favorite characters in both their happiness and pain. Unfortunately, sadness/pain/grief has an almost addictive quality and when exposed to it for too long, we start to dwell on our own real world struggles.

I think anyone who has experienced true grief understands that it extends beyond the immediate loss of a loved one's physical presence. It's oftentimes difficult to confront a loved one's ghost in the form of tangible memories and possessions.

There can also be comfort in grief, but it is important not to give in to the temptation of living in past memories...this is a struggle I hope was somewhat portrayed through this fic.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Obviously, this is all my opinion and I am no expert when it comes to human emotion. I believe everyone feels and grieves differently. I would love to hear everyone else's thoughts on this subject and the way it is portrayed by our favorite characters. Thank-you for reading! I cherish your feedback.