The first thing she knew was warmth. It sunk beneath her skin and blanketed her bones. The world was soft, gentle against her tired limbs and Daenerys wondered if she was dead. She did not mind it. It was peaceful, this endless slumber, but then she felt the thirst. Her eyes opened in a flash and she was coughing, gasping for breath and fighting against the thick blankets that covered her body. Her vision swarmed and she leaned over the bed, digging her fingers into the sheets, her frail shoulders trembling as she wretched emptily. Looking up, thinking of nothing but the nails that raked her throat with each breath of air, she spotted a pitcher of water on the bedside stand. She lunged for it, half-tumbling out of bed. Throwing her head back, she drank desperately and swiftly, nearly weeping with the pleasure of it.

Dany thought she heard a laugh, from far away, but thought nothing of it as she drank deeply, the water splashing over her shoulders and down her neck. She heard a laugh, distantly, and began to choke as she became full. The pitcher slipped from her hands and Dany began to cough violently, too weak to recoil as a slender hand patted her back. "Gods be good, you do love your dramatics, don't you?"

Any words Dany may have formed were lost to another bout of frantic coughing and the voice laughed, though kindly. "Shh, there's plenty where that came from. Seven hells, it's only water, Dragon Queen." There was a light snort. "We've got that and bears on the isle in the plenty. Don't worry, we won't be running out anytime soon, I'll promise you that."

Dany wiped the back of her mouth as she gained control of her breathing and glanced over her shoulder, curious as to who aided her. The girl, Maege Mormont's daughter with the bright eyes, smirked back at her. Her eyes widened as she remembered the events of what she presumed to be the evening prior. The girl took this for disappointment and cheekily inquired, "What? Disappointed these aren't my cousin's strapping arms?"

She blushed a furious scarlet and the girl laughed, helping tuck Dany back in and flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. "I was only joking. Poor timing, that's what my mother says," She shrugged lightly, "but I try nonetheless. Funny thing, isn't it? I'm named after the damsel your brother stole and here I am, tucking his little sister nicely into a bed I made for her. Not that you'd remember, of course. You looked rather like a wilted flower, Daenerys, passing out in the middle of everything."

Daenerys could only blink at the girl, who sat back and grinned, mischief bright in her eyes. "My mother says I talk too swiftly and too often. She's right, naturally, but I care not. I say all the words she's thinking."

"Your mother was gracious to hear me speak," Dany replied shyly, "I had thought her like to banish me from the isle upon first introduction."

Lyanna shrugged, "I doubt she would turn you away, even if it was her choice. Jorah clearly thought you decent enough and even if she denies it, his opinion means much to her."

She felt sick as she thought of how wrong he had been, images of fire and blood and war flashing in her mind. They both grew silent and a moment later her stomach grumbled loudly. She blushed again and Lyanna laughed. "You've been asleep for a day and a half. You've right to be terribly hungry."

Dany blanched and Lyanna laughed, "You really don't remember anything, do you?" She shook her head, her hands trembling as they folded the sheets around her. It was all a blur, a memory shrouded in fog and shimmering against the water. There had been hunger and pain and loathing and fear and regret. Lyanna sensed this and smiled gently, reaching out a hand to rest against her own. "It's alright, Daenerys. You'll be safe here, my cousin and my mother will see to it."

She sat up and moved to stand beside Dany, holding out her arms and stating confidently, "But first we need to get you bathed and out of bed. Seven hells, I could see all your ribs and bones when Jorah laid you down. I thought you were going to break in his arms, you were so thin." He carried me, Dany thought, my sweet bear carried me after all this time. She gave a little smile to Lyanna, biting the inside of her lip roughly to force back the tears. I do not deserve his care. I do not deserve any of this.

Lyanna helped her out of bed, catching her with a laugh as she stumbled after the first few steps. She bathed her and gently scrubbed away the dirt that caked the fierce arches of her shoulder blades and rubbed a poultice on the sores dotting her thighs. The girl was kind to her and Daenerys thought of Irri and Doreah, of little Missandrei and wondered where they were now, if they thought of her and if they cared whether she was alive or dead. Tears of gratitude streamed down her face as Lyanna carefully worked a comb through her tangled, choppy hair until it shone, her fingers brushing lightly against her scalp to find and kill any pests that might have settled against her.

Lyanna Mormont was kind and quick, words and wit flowing from her mouth like quicksilver and marked by sudden, short laughter. The girl was fair enough, certainly, but her beauty was in her flashing grin and mischievous eyes. Daenerys was grateful that she did not question what had led her to the isle nor did she inquire about her past for she would not answer. Not yet, not when the pain was yet so fresh. She wondered if it would ever grow easier, the memories, the speaking. She had been so silent for so long that each word seemed an effort, each sentence a victory in its own right.

When she had been dressed in a soft robe, Dany ate a simple meal in the corner of their hall. The great hearth crackled behind her and she took the enormous room in anew, seeing the beauty in the polished rafters high above her head and in the intricate designs carving the benches that sat throughout the hall. It was strong and proud, needing no gilded edges nor adornments to prove itself beautiful. She thought of how ser Jorah had told her of his home, so very long ago. She remembered the pride and the pain in his voice as he spoke of the Isle he longed for above all else and she understood why.

She tore into her food as it was presented to her by a servant, ignoring the strange glance rewarded her in her hunger. Her bread and cheese seemed richer than any meal she had ever taken of and more delicious than anything that ever had been served to her. Dany ate so quickly that she feared for a moment she would be sick as Lyanna laughed from beside her, her dark eyes bright with curiosity as she watched the Mother of Dragons grow drowsy from food. Finally swallowing that last chunk of bread, Dany wiped her mouth with the wrist using all the grace she could muster. Her throat was still raw and her voice came out raspy, just above a whispered as she questioned, "Why did your cousin get his tattoo, if you mind not my asking? I…I had heard rumors that he traveled alongside the Imp, through the Free Cities, did he receive it there?"

Lyanna perked a brow slowly. "Of all the things you've got to ask about, that's your first one?"

Dany burned scarlet. In truth, she did not know why she had asked for him, the words had slipped from her mouth before she could hold them back. Lyanna grinned at her reaction, lowering her voice conspiratorially as she leaned in and perked a brow, "So, were you and Jorah lovers, then? I thought you might be."

Her jaw dropped slightly and she stammered as Lyanna cast her a curious glance, unsure of both what to say and what to do. "You can tell me, you know," The girl rolled her eyes, "I'm old enough to know of this sort of thing. I'm no delicate lady sure to blush at talk of love-making."

She thought of the night aboard the Balerion, of his lips and his tongue and the brush of skin against her own. There had been such blind, pure hope in his eyes, shining and rippling against the bright blue. And she had betrayed that hope, had used it to comfort her, she had used him. "No." She replied suddenly, "No we were not. Ser Jorah was a friend and an advisor to me, kind unto me when few else were."

Lyanna stared at her a moment longer, her gaze calculating, then shrugged lightly and flicked a lock of dark hair out of her eyes. "Just curious, that's all. Didn't mean to intrude. I've got plenty of other things I'd like to ask you about, when you're a bit more well and all."

Her eyes grew heavy then and Lyanna snorted with amusement, helping to led her back to her room as she amiably informed her that her mother would no doubt wish to talk to her once she was better rested and of course Jorah would. Too tired to speak, Dany merely smiled as she crawled beneath the warm sheets, nestling into the welcoming bed with a yawn. Lyanna grinned a farewell and curtseyed low. When the door had been shut, she turned on her side and looked around the room.

It was simple and scarce, but just as lovely as the hall had been. A woven tapestry depicted a forest and the bright sky above it, while a small table had been painstakingly carved from dark wood, a little chair set to match it. There was a small hearth that looked unused, but welcoming nonetheless. It made her feel more welcome than any gilded room she had called home, more than any palace or throne or tent. But, it was not her home and it would never be. I have no home, she trembled, No spot of earth can I claim my own and no earth will claim me when I die. I am the last of the Dragons and our strength is spent.

And, as she slipped into her sleep, she dreamt of her beautiful children and the ones she had loved and lost, all of them drowning beneath a sea of blood that seeped from her Throne.

OOOOOOOOOO

Daenerys grew aware of him before she was fully awake, her chest rising and falling slowly as curled into the warm bed. Her eyelids stirred but she did not move as she felt a hand carefully adjust the blankets around her, pulling them up around her frail shoulders as she had kicked them downwards in her nightmares. The room was silent save for the sound of his gentle breathing. Another hand moved downwards, this time into her hair. It trembled as it passed through her short, dark locks and moved them out of her face. Her breath caught in her throat as the familiar callouses brushed against her brow, tiny scars and knicks catching against her cheekbone as Jorah's fingers moved so very tenderly she feared she was dreaming. He feared to touch her, even now, all the time later and she trembled beneath the blankets. Dany could not remember the last time she had been touched and not shoved, caressed and not beaten. The world was rough and cold and harsh. She knew that now.

But the hand moved and she heard Jorah's footsteps echo towards the hearth. She peeked through her eyelids and watched him kneel, adjusting the dying fire and replacing the burned log. Stirring and yawning now, wanting to alert him of that she had woken, he glanced over his shoulder. She nearly flinched, the hideousness of the tattoo had faded from her memory, but hid it as she offered a faint smile. He stood upright immediately, embarrassed, "Khaleesi, I had not meant to disturb your slumber, I only wanted to-"

"It's alright," Dany whispered, "This is your home and I am but a guest." She laughed quietly and it came out a sharp wheeze. The action was unnatural to her now. "If anything, I should be the one tending your fires and seeing to your needs."

Jorah shook his head, his voice gentle, "You showed me great kindness, Khaleesi, by giving an old knight something to fight for once again. This is naught but repayment for such grace." Khaleesi. She could not remember when she had been called that. The word was a memory, hot and dry. Jorah smiled faintly at her pause, "You will be safe here, Khaleesi. I swear it. For as long as you need remain, we will not turn you away."

A silence fell between them and she could not meet his eyes. Her blistered hands, raw and sore from the seawater that had drenched them for weeks, clutched at the blanket. He moved to the bed, cautious for a moment, then sat across from her. Jorah looked to her, his voice softer than ever, "Might I speak true, Khaleesi?"

Glancing up briefly, she nodded, the heat of the hearth starting to warm her further. Jorah ran his tongue over his lower lip. "I…we had heard rumors, of course, of what had happened in the South, in King's Landing, but only rumors. Vague ones at that." His blue eyes met her own. "How did this come to be, Khaleesi?"

She knew not how to respond, how even to begin to speak of what had happened since their parting. It was not even for lack of desire that her lips could not form words and her breath could not muster in her lungs. She wanted to tell him, to cry against him and press her head to his broad, familiar chest as she had only two days prior, to feel safe and warm in his arms, comforted by her great bear, but she could not. Desperately she wanted him to understand, to let someone else share her pain and her anger and her grief.

But there was no way to explain the sadness. It had sunk beneath her skin and blanketed her bones. Even blinding fury and grief so vibrant she thought her heart might shatter were dulled by it. Where there once had been heat, then was only warmth. Light was curtained and joy was tainted, her tears frozen. It was in every breath and every blink and she knew she could not outrun it nor escape it and for that it broke her all the more, that terrible sadness.

Dany had not noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks. Trembling fiercely now, she looked up from her hands and saw the pity in Jorah's eyes. She looked away, closing her eyes and choking back the words she wanted to say but could not.

"Khaleesi," Jorah breathed, his voice so soft she feared she might have imagined it, "Khaleesi, you need not speak of this so soon. I had simply though…no, I had not thought at all and in my folly I-"

"It's alright," She whispered in a voice like glass, "You should know, you deserve to know." A bitter laugh escaped her throat, "Do you think all this would have been different had I not sent you away, ser Jorah? That, that perhaps had you been at my side I would have been on that Throne for more than three days and even now that crown would grace my brow? I would not blame you if you admitted that I should have listened to you, should have shown you what kindness you did unto me." She loathed herself for such petty words against what generosity he had shown unto her, but she could not stop, not now. She wanted him to hate her. Why would he not? Jorah should have laughed at her, mocked her and turned her and away and yet he did not, so she went one step further. "Does it please you to know that I failed without you?"

"No." She flinched. There was more anger in his voice than she had ever heard, thick and dark. Her bear had growled. "Do not think, not even for a moment, Daenerys, that I wanted this. I wanted you happy, I wanted you to have that Throne and that crown almost as much as I wanted you. Not ever would I have wished this upon, upon those dragons. Do you forget that I saw them the day of their birth?" Jorah roared now and she could see the tears in his eyes. "I watched them grow, Khaleesi, at your side, day by day and I grew to care for them more than you could ever imagine. I would have seen them grow proud and as fierce as their mother, to take to the skies as their kin of old. I would have died to save them, had you asked it of me. I would have died to save you." He drew a breath, shaking with rage. "How dare you think I would desire this when I had loved you?"

Dany could only stare. Jorah closed his eyes and she whispered an apology a moment later, a string of words loosely bound together. He did not respond but instead rose to his feet. Hating herself, no, loathing herself for her cruelty to him, she reached out for him, grasping at his hand but he brushed her away. "Jorah…ser Jorah, please, I did not mean, I was-"

He cut her off, his voice gruff, "You are tired, Khaleesi, we will speak on the morrow when you are more rested."

Jorah turned then and left without another word. She sank back beneath the covers, the crackling of the fire distant. Dany knew she had made a mistake, a grave one, and she did not sleep that night for it.