Notes:
As announced, this is another chapter for the trip north. And since this chapter became too long I had to split it and there will be a Part III before we finally arrive at Winterfell.
This chapter is very Jorah/Daenerys heavy with one small appearance by Varys and another one by Tyrion.
The chapter is dedicated to the person who took the time to write the last review. It's very much appreciated.
They had managed to not speak a single word with each other since Jorah's return. At council meetings they had to be in the same room. They had acknowledged each other with looks, but never talked to each other. It suited them both fine. And Jorah didn't see any reason to change that. Varys was of a different opinion though.
"How are the wounds?" the spymaster asked.
"Fine."
"You saved her life."
Jorah remained silent. He could have left, but he had a feeling it would only postpone the inevitable. "What do you want?"
"I am not the enemy."
"You switch sides like the wind."
"You have fought for Robert as well, spied for him."
"You almost got her killed," Jorah spat.
"Robert gave the order."
"He couldn't have done it without you. Only your network reaches that far. Or do you deny it?"
"I don't deny it. I was in the service of the King. But I was counting on you to know why Robert would have no further use for you."
"You had no way of knowing I would act on it after I had my pardon," Jorah pointed out.
"Your messages became less frequent and shorter every time. You didn't seem that motivated anymore."
"You were willing to take that chance."
"This is getting us nowhere," Varys said condescendingly. "I am trying to help her. But if you advise her against me-"
"She makes her own decisions. If you haven't figured that out yet, you don't know her very well."
"Then why was I not invited to the meeting?"
"If it had been up for discussion I would have advised against inviting you. I won't even pretend I trust you."
"Fair enough." Varys shrugged his shoulders. "Trust is overrated anyway."
Turning towards the sea, Jorah kept silent, hoping this conversation had finally come to an end. He wasn't sure if he was angrier at Varys' involvement in the attempts on Daenerys' life or that his presence reminded him of his own betrayal. In any case he didn't trust Varys.
"Will you stand aside if it becomes necessary?" Varys asked.
Jorah tensed visibly. So this was why the spymaster had approached him in the first place. Slowly he turned to face Varys again. "I will do anything to keep her safe."
"Anything? Meaning…?" Varys raised an eyebrow.
Jorah took a step closer towards the spymaster. "Anything."
The weather was horrible. It was windy and raining. The ship made all kinds of noises. The waves were crashing against the hull. The planks were creaking. And Jorah was reading.
"How can you read in this weather?" Daenerys asked.
"It helps me stay focused." The swaying of ships had never bothered Jorah. Maybe because he had grown up surrounded by the sea. And storms were a common occurrence in the north. He loved the winter storms. "There should be one or two more books in my trunk, if you want to give it a try."
Daenerys eyed him with skepticism. She wasn't sure it would work for her, but she went over to his trunk and picked a book. It opened to a page. There was a piece of paper lying inside it. Had Jorah used it as a bookmark? She unfolded it and found a letter, addressed to herself. She started reading.
"Did you find them?" Jorah was sure he had taken at least two books with him. She had her back to him and didn't answer. "Daenerys?"
She turned towards him and had tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked concerned.
Daenerys got up and walked over to him, holding out the letter.
It only took Jorah one second to realize what it was. "You weren't meant to read this," he said tenderly. "I wrote it before Sam told me about the cure."
"I knew it was close." He had told her as much when he had come back. "And you told me you would end your own life before…" She trailed off, swallowing. She had never imagined that it had been that close before he had been cured. "Would you have ever told me?"
"Told you of the letter?"
"Told me that you love me."
Jorah looked at her confused, not able to follow her train of thought.
"You told me outside Vaes Dothrak when you revealed the greyscale. And you wrote it in this letter. Both times you were convinced you would die. Without the greyscale, would you have ever told me?"
"I told you in Meereen," Jorah reminded her softly.
Daenerys thought about it for a moment, not sure if she wanted to go down that path. "Same thing."
"I didn't think I would die."
"Didn't you?" she asked with a smile, but quickly turned serious again. "I thought you would say anything to get away with it."
"You thought I lied?"
She sighed. "No, but how could I have trusted anything you said in that situation?" Daenerys realized that she didn't really want an answer to that. "It doesn't count," she said with determination, giving him a look that told him to drop it. It had been an extreme situation, hardly a place or time for a declaration of love. She had heard the words, but she hadn't let them get to her.
Jorah slightly bowed his head in agreement.
"So the question remains. Would you have ever told me?"
"No," he said honestly and without hesitation. Jorah had never planned on telling her. Because he knew it couldn't go anywhere. And because he truly believed she would never feel the same. Only when he had thought he would never see her again he'd had the courage to tell her. It had been rather selfish.
But Daenerys had known anyway. What he did for her went far beyond loyalty. "Words are overrated. It's actions that count," she said and kissed him softly. "And you've shown me every day since the day I met you." Daenerys took his book away and sat astride his lap. She kissed him again. "Now let me show you."
Daenerys lay in his arms. She was playing with the fingers of his good hand, careful not to touch his arm or put too much strain on it.
"I'll make it up to you once the cuts have healed," Jorah said.
"Make it up to me?" she asked amused. "Couldn't you tell that I was enjoying myself very much?" His injuries meant they had to be more careful. He was limited in his movements, but she didn't mind at all doing most of the work. The alternative was to be abstinent. And neither of them felt that was an option.
"A true Khaleesi," Jorah said and kissed her. But then he turned serious. "I need to ask you something. It's been on my mind for a while. But I never thought I had the right to ask. But now I have to."
"Ask."
"When we were arguing on the ship from Eastwatch back to Dragonstone, you said something… You said you couldn't give Jon an heir. I didn't question it at that time. But… how do you know?"
"Ever since Rhaego died, I can't have any more children," she said calmly.
"How do you know? What did the sorceress say to you when you were alone with her?"
"She told me that before I had saved her, she had already been raped several times. And due to what she had done neither Drogo nor my son would cause any more suffering. She seemed quite pleased with herself. And ever since then… I don't know if she planned it that way or if it was just an unintended consequence of what happened, but… before Rhaego I bled regularly. Since Rhaego, I hardly ever bleed at all."
"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."
Daenerys shrugged her shoulders. "I've gotten used to the thought. And I have my dragons."
It was deep into the night. The ship was still swaying with the waves, but the worst of the storm had passed. Unconsciously, Daenerys was drawing patterns on Jorah's chest.
"Why aren't you asleep?" Jorah asked.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." She sighed and wrapped her arms tighter around him.
"Are you ok?"
"Yes."
He placed a kiss on her hair. "Then go back to sleep."
"I don't want to," Daenerys whispered. She should have been tired. They hadn't gotten much sleep lately. They were making up for lost time, for all the time they had been apart.
Jorah had noticed that she had been in a strange mood the last few days, ever since they had left Dragonstone. Sometimes she was rather quiet and withdrawn. Other times she was quite affectionate. She touched him more than usual, whenever an opportunity presented itself. Jorah clearly noticed the difference. He wondered if she was still worried about him because of his injuries. But they were healing nicely. Gently, he caressed her back. "Talk to me."
"I am just being selfish."
"Selfish? That you have to explain to me."
Daenerys was reluctant to speak it out loud. "I want to enjoy every moment with you. I wish… As soon as the ship lands in White Harbor…" Their short reprieve would be over. "Sometimes…," her voice became very small, "I wish the ship would never get there."
Jorah was surprised to hear her voice such thoughts. But he could sympathize. Ever since meeting her, he had been eager for the day she would sit on the Iron Throne. He had never believed more in anything else. But now? He wanted her to be happy. Would the Iron Throne make her happy? Would she be safe? Could he keep her safe there? Doubts had started to creep into his mind.
"All I ever wanted was the Iron Throne. As it turns out it was never mine to begin with. And still, I have more to lose than ever before." Jorah was the one thing in her life that was clear to her. There would be no compromising. Before, everything had revolved around the Iron Throne for her. But with Jon and Jorah in the picture and with the Night King approaching to kill them all, the Iron Throne – despite being closer than ever before – seemed endlessly far away.
Jorah looked at her, not sure he understood the full meaning of her words.
"Before, it was easier," Daenerys went on. "I know what I have to do. And I will do it. I feel like I can do anything with you by my side. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, in your arms, I don't want to. And I imagine what it would be like if we weren't who we are, if it was just you and me. Before, I never had such thoughts."
"Do you want to go back to how it was before?" Jorah didn't want to, but he knew exactly what she meant. And he would do whatever she asked, whatever made it easier for her.
She smiled at him. In his voice she could hear that he would do so, if she asked. "No, this can't be undone. Not sharing a bed with you wouldn't change anything about how I feel about you. It might be more difficult, but there is no turning back now. And if you have something to lose, you fight harder."
Jorah enclosed her hand with his. "Yes." That was a predicament he only knew too well.
"Besides, not sharing this with you," she squeezed his hand, "fighting the temptation would be even more of a distraction. I want you way too much to give it up. There's no point in making us both miserable, is there?"
"Whatever my Queen commands."
She sighed and shook her head, burying her face against his neck. "Forget what I said."
"Why?"
"Those words are not worthy of a queen. Those are the silly words of a frightened little girl."
"If you weren't the least bit afraid of what is to come, I would be worried."
"I am not afraid of the White Walkers."
Jorah looked at her surprised.
"Being afraid doesn't change a thing. Being afraid doesn't win wars. They can be killed. I won't underestimate them, not after what I have seen north of the Wall, not after what happened to Viserion. But I won't fear them."
"Then what are you afraid of?"
Daenerys pushed herself up on her elbow, looking at him. But she couldn't bring herself to say it. And suddenly something else she had meant to say to him didn't seem so scary anymore. "I love you." She had never said this to anyone before. There had been endearments with Drogo. But that had been a different kind of love. She had been so young. She'd had no choice. They had been thrown together and eventually they had made a great team. But she had never known someone as well as Jorah, trusted someone as much as him. He sometimes knew her better than she knew herself. That thought should have scared her, but it didn't. They were far beyond that. They had been friends and confidantes for so long. After Drogo's death, after Jorah's betrayal and his greyscale she hadn't been sure she would ever allow her heart to feel again. But it seemed that Missandei had been right. She had no choice in the matter. Her heart did what it wanted.
Jorah just stared at her, lost for words. She had alluded to her feelings for him several times. But to hear those words from her lips was still a shock. He had trouble making sense of them.
Daenerys smiled at him. He looked at her as if he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "I do love you," she said again. Was this really such a surprise to him? His face looked more upset than happy. "Jorah?" She knew he loved her. She didn't need to hear the words from him. His speechlessness was answer enough for her. Besides, he had said them far more often than she had. She kissed him and lay down on his shoulder again, feeling completely at peace.
"I never really told you, did I?" Jorah said finally.
"You told me plenty of times. I thought we just agreed that you told me more times than I remembered, even though you never meant to tell me in the first place," Daenerys said with a smirk.
But Jorah stayed serious. "Not really. Not properly. And always with too many people around."
"Jorah, I know. I've always known, even if I didn't want to admit it. I think I've known before you even said it." She added in a whisper, "Since Qarth."
He remembered. He had made her uncomfortable then. She had pulled back from him after that. Jorah gently tilted her head so he could look at her face. "I love you, Daenerys. I love your courage. I love your determination. I love your resilience and your strength. I love your compassion. I love your humor. And I love nothing more than to see you smile."
As the Queen she was used to flattery. She knew Jorah was not flattering her. He was simply speaking the truth. It shouldn't have surprised her that Jorah saw her in this way. Now it was Daenerys' turn to be speechless.
With his thumb, Jorah tenderly brushed over her cheek. She hadn't realized it, but tears had formed in her eyes. She blinked. "Damn you, Jorah the Andal, for making your Queen cry."
He kissed her where he had brushed away the tears. "This is one thing I will not ask forgiveness for."
The next day was dry and once in a while a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds. It was still early. Breakfast hadn't been served yet.
"I don't think I have ever seen you smile, Mormont."
Jorah looked at him slightly annoyed but couldn't really be angry with Tyrion.
"No, actually, I am sure I have never seen you smile. Are you sick?"
Jorah just shook his head in annoyance and returned to look out over the sea.
"You are up early." When Jorah didn't say anything, Tyrion went on, "You and the Queen missed dinner last night."
"Is there a point to this conversation?"
"It's not a conversation, if you are not saying anything."
Jorah took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience. "I know you disapprove."
"No, not really."
"You think me unworthy, a disgraced knight."
"I did. And you are."
"What changed?" Jorah asked confused.
"If you are not worthy, who is? I am a dwarf, a drunkard. I killed my own father and the woman I loved. I would have killed my own nephew, if I'd had the courage. I am part of the family that had most of the Starks killed, the family that had Elia Martell and her children killed. I am the brother of the man who killed Daenerys' father. And now I am her Hand. You have proven your loyalty over and over again. And I don't just mean because you saved her life again just a few days ago. There is no one she is safer with."
"So as long as this is about survival, I am allowed to stay by her side. But once this is over… then what?" It was more a rhetorical question. Jorah didn't care. He wasn't sure if any of them would survive the next few weeks anyway. But he was curious what Tyrion thought.
Tyrion shrugged his shoulders. With Daenerys refusing to discuss her succession, Jon being her nephew and all of them on deaths door due to the Night Walkers, Jorah and the Queen's relationship was currently one of their smallest problems. "That's an issue for later," Tyrion said. "She has made it so far without a husband at her side. And she will always need protection. I doubt most people still care why you were exiled, especially in times like these."
"Varys cares. Ser Barristan cared." Jorah himself had cared. And still did. Sometimes he worried about it but he was careful not to let Daenerys notice. He had respected Ser Barristan greatly. And Varys was indeed a wise and resourceful man, not that Jorah would ever admit that to the Spider's face. Ser Barristan and Varys had seen several kings come and go. Jorah would be stupid if he discarded their concerns completely.
"I think you are good for her, not just because of her safety. She has changed since you came back."
Jorah looked at him surprised.
"She seems more composed. It's like there's a quiet strength she draws from your presence, which isn't that surprising considering how long you've been advising her." Tyrion hesitated slightly before he went on. "Varys and I were starting to get worried about her. She was becoming impatient and easily frustrated."
"Daenerys has never been the most patient person. And she doesn't like losing. Who does? Besides, she is a Targaryen. If she didn't have that Targaryen ambition and resilience, she wouldn't have survived this long."
"Varys thinks she is getting more ruthless. I think maybe she was hurting. Power is isolating."
Jorah remembered how Daenerys had been carried by the freed slaves of Yunkai. That had been everything else but isolating. But those days were gone. Changing the world meant making enemies. And as the Mad King's daughter she already had many enemies before even setting foot on Westeros.
"I've seen what happened to Cersei. She became more and more ruthless the more power she had."
"I don't think I like you comparing Daenerys to your sister," Jorah cautioned him.
"Don't get me wrong, Cersei always had a power-hungry, merciless streak. And her position of power has only nurtured those character traits. She lashes out, the consequences be damned."
"What are you trying to say?" Jorah asked.
"Daenerys had Lord Tarly and his son burned alive."
"There isn't much point in burning someone after killing him, is there?" Jorah said pointedly. "There are certainly less painful ways to leave this world, but there are also much worse ways to go. Burning by dragon fire is rather quick. I once saw a woman burned at the stake. She deserved to die. But it took way too long for my taste."
"Still, I wonder if you would have been able to change her mind."
"I wasn't there. I can't say if it was just or not. My counsel might have differed from yours."
Tyrion looked at him curiously.
"You cannot expect her to rule the Seven Kingdoms and spare everyone."
"I never said that. I know punishment is necessary."
"Just not that punishment and not for Lord Tarly and his son?"
"I recommended sending them to the Wall," Tyrion said.
"She gave them a choice, did she not?"
"She did, but-"
"Before she killed Lord Tarly and his son, how many men died on the battlefield?"
"Many."
"Also by dragon fire?"
"Yes. But Lord Tarly was the head of an honorable house."
"Does that mean his life is worth more than that of his foot soldiers?"
Maybe Jorah had a point. Compared to other cruelties Tyrion had witnessed, burning two men in a matter of seconds was by far not the worst he had seen. Was it because he had known Lord Tarly personally that he was so upset?
"I know what you are thinking. But she is not like her father," Jorah said. "But she is a Targaryen. Don't expect her to get rid of the fire. It is part of who she is. And without her dragons, neither of us would be here right now."
"As Varys pointed out-"
"I've heard enough of what Varys says. I don't care what Varys says."
Tyrion frowned at him. "I understand that you don't trust Varys, but he has Daenerys' best interests at heart. He really believes in her."
"Varys only has his own best interests at heart. It's difficult to keep track of whom he has been loyal to."
"He's always been loyal to the Targaryen cause. He just tried to survive in this world, which isn't exactly easy."
"That might be. But if he ever puts his life before hers again…" Jorah said threateningly.
"He never wanted her dead."
"But he took a bloody big chance," Jorah spat. "And he told me all about how he was sure I would save her life when he sent his assassins after her. But he couldn't have known. He couldn't have been sure. Or did he make Ser Barristan quit the Kingsguard so he could show up right at that very moment when another assassin almost succeeded, disguised as a child? I didn't see that one coming." He'd had nightmares about that child and the manticore for weeks afterwards.
"I didn't think you and Varys were talking to each other," Tyrion said with a raised eyebrow.
"We aren't." Jorah turned towards the sea. He had been in such a good mood this morning. But talking to Tyrion had made him angry. If even her closest advisors kept comparing Daenerys to her father, how would the common people ever get past her father's crimes?
"So you are not worried about her?"
"Not because of that." Jorah sighed and turned towards Tyrion again. "She did take it to heart, burning Lord Tarly and his son."
"Did she tell you?"
"I know it affected her. It didn't leave her cold. She has a good heart. But a good heart is perceived as a weakness in this world. She can't show any weakness. Do you really think that someone who made it her mission to free all slaves of Slaver's Bay has no heart or suddenly forgets she has one? She has just gotten better at hiding it."
Daenerys was sitting at a small table with a small mirror mounted above it on the wall, undoing her braid. She was already dressed for bed in a long pale green nightgown and a robe. Daenerys had been wearing her hair in a simple and loose braid. It saved time in the mornings and evenings. Besides, Missandei wasn't there to help her. She would have left it completely open because she knew Jorah liked it that way, but that wasn't very practical on a ship. When Jorah entered she was combing her hair. He took off his cloak and bent down to place a kiss on her exposed neck.
Daenerys stood up and pointed to the chair. "Sit." She took a bowl from the table. "Sam just came by and gave this to me. I told him I would change your bandages tonight."
"The wounds are fine."
"Humor your queen."
"It's not-"
She reached for his arm and squeezed very gently, making him wince. "You said it numbs the pain."
"Yes, but it's not that bad anymore."
"Sam made this for you."
Jorah sat down on the chair. Daenerys removed the bandages and started applying the herbs. Then she wrapped fresh bandages around his arm and hand. "Now was that so bad?" she asked when she had finished.
"It feels much better. Thank you."
She sighed and rolled her eyes at him, but more in jest than in earnest. "Why are you always so stubborn?"
"The wounds are healing fine."
"You think I am overreacting?"
Now it was his turn to sigh.
Daeenrys took a step backwards and put her hands to her hips. "You know what happened to Drogo. You know I don't want to go through that again."
Before she could move further away from him, Jorah took her hand, trying to calm her down. She allowed his touch but stayed where she was. "You saw the wounds yourself just now," he said. "They have started to close. They won't get infected anymore." He gently tugged on her hand, but she still didn't move. "I know you are just worried about me. But there is no need."
Daenerys knew she was overreacting. The cuts were healing nicely. He didn't show any sign of being much affected by them anymore. Why was she acting like this? He was sitting in front of her alive and well. But for how much longer? And that's when she realized that it wasn't the cuts that bothered her. It was what lay ahead of them. It wouldn't be long until Jorah would lead her army into battle and she would mount Drogon and they would embark on a fight neither of them had ever engaged in before. There was no guarantee any of them would survive. She was getting more and more restless the closer they got to White Harbor. Reality was catching up with her.
Jorah stood up and took the last step towards her. He swept her hair to one side and kissed her neck again, but this time more passionately. He could feel she was tense and she didn't melt into his embrace like she normally did. Raising his lips to her ear, he asked "What's wrong?"
Daenerys felt on edge. She didn't feel in control. She knew what was coming and she couldn't avoid it. It was one fight she hadn't picked. The fight had picked them. And there was no way around it and no way back.
She wouldn't look at him, staring straight ahead at his chest. Putting his arms around her, Jorah gently pulled her against his body. She finally relaxed slightly. He stroked her hair and eventually she put her arms around him. "What's bothering you?" he asked again.
"Don't make me say it out loud," she whispered.
"Then let's go to bed. I will hold you all night, if you want me to."
"No," she mumbled into his chest.
"No?"
"No." Daenerys pushed herself slightly away from him to be able to look into his eyes. "The night is too precious for that."
The White Walkers were coming for them, clawing at their bodies. Blue eyes everywhere, glowing in the darkness. She heard her dragons screaming. She saw Jorah falling, Jon drowning. Daenerys woke with a start, breathing hard, her body covered in sweat.
Jorah woke a second after her, automatically grabbing for his sword, which he kept right next to the bed nowadays. Except for the usual sounds of the ship, everything was quiet. "What's wrong?"
"Just a nightmare." Daenerys took a deep breath, trying to slow down her heartbeat. "Is your offer from earlier still standing?"
His brain was still half asleep. "What offer?"
"To hold me all night."
Jorah pulled her close against his body. "Always."