The sound that had issued from Jorah's mouth was strained, as though he had run all the way from wherever he had been, and was exhausted. Tyrion heard it in his voice, and he turned toward the warrior. He could barely see him through the crowd, but what he saw was a man who appeared to be a bit worse for wear. He was healthy, though, and scanning the place for the Queen.
"Is she here?" he asked no one.
"I am," came her voice from behind Tyrion…and he closed his eyes. He had no desire to witness any homecoming, any reunion of any sort. He swallowed, and began to turn away from Jorah, to slip unnoticed by anyone.
"Your Grace," Jorah breathed, and walked toward her.
Her back was immediately up. She swallowed…this had taken her by surprise. She had not expected to see Jorah, had not thought about him, in so very long. Jorah Mormont reached her, and she regarded him with a critical eye. His greyscale had left marks, but it appeared to have stalled its march across his body…his eyes were ferocious…they bored into her with heat and intensity. "Ser Jorah," she smiled. "You appear to be well. How is it you've come here?"
"I'm here because you told me to come back to you."
Dany nodded. "Well, it is good to see you," she smiled. "Let us speak privately," she turned toward Jon. "Is there a place we can have private counsel?"
"Yes," Jon approached her, looking at Jorah crookedly. "Follow me."
"Where is my Hand?" she asked, looking around. She looked at Sansa. "Have you seen Tyrion?"
Sansa shook her head…looked around the immediate area. "No, Your Grace."
"He was just here…" she frowned. "Tyrion Lannister!" she called, but received no answer.
"I'll find him, Your Majesty," and Jaime appeared out of the shadow. "I'll know where to look."
"Thank you, Ser Jaime. Bring him to me at once," and she turned on her heel and followed Jon out of the dining hall.
"You made the imp your Hand?" Jorah muttered to Dany.
"You will not refer to him as such, Jorah," she replied, looking at him. "And he is more than capable as Hand."
"Yes, but…where do his loyalties lie?"
"With me, of course."
"How do you know?" he persisted.
Jon opened the door to a smallish room, it looked a bit like a library. Dany had not seen it before…there were a few bookcases, nothing to speak of…and some chairs around a wooden table. "Will this do, Your Grace?"
"Thank you, Jon. Once Jaime finds his brother, please direct him here," she nodded to him, and Jon smiled, leaving them there alone.
Dany sat, then indicated that Jorah should sit across from her.
He did, though he appeared to be anxious, and shifted a bit.
"Tell me your story," she said.
He glanced at the door. "There is nothing to tell, really."
"Oh I don't believe that. The last I saw you we were on the outskirts of Meereen and you were inflicted with greyscale. I asked you to find a cure," she smiled. "And to come back to me. And now, here you are, in Westeros, at Winterfell."
He cleared his throat. "I went to Lotus Point, south of Westeros….there are springs there which are said to contain medicinal properties. I bathed in the springs, and then dried out the infection. A Maester there had me bathe in hot vinegar baths…and though some of the skin will never heal, the infection has stopped."
"And now, you are here."
"And now. Daenerys…" he reached for her across the table, but she made no indication that she would allow him to touch her, so his gaze fell, and he folded his hands on his lap. "My only thought was returning to you. I know that Daario is younger…handsomer…but my love is steadfast and strong," he looked at her. "I also know that as Queen of the Seven you will need to make an advantageous match. But consider your own happiness, Daenerys! Think of what message you'd send to your people if their Queen married for love…"
"Thank you Jorah, for your insight. I am awed by your perseverance…and I am grateful for your advice. But I'm already taking it. I am marrying for love."
He appeared to be quite confused…"You're marrying Daario, then?"
"No," Dany smiled.
His face lit up a moment.
"I'm marrying Tyrion."
"And how did I know that you'd be here, little brother?" Jaime approached Tyrion.
Tyrion, who was drinking a large carafe sans a cup, sat by a fire in the basement catacombs.
"Who puts a hearth in the catacombs?" Tyrion asked. "The dead have no need for warmth, and yet here sits a fire."
"Well, I think that the Starks are very attached to their ancestry, and no doubt spend a lot of their time here among corpses," he sat next to Tyrion on the floor in front of the fire. "And what are you doing here, brother?"
"I'm drinking amongst the dead," and he sipped long.
"Why?"
"Because I feel as though I just died."
"Because of Jorah Mormont? He's the walking corpse. He'd be better off traveling to the Wall and finding Bran."
"He will win Daenerys' heart, Jaime," he looked at the fire solemnly.
"I believe that that particular thing is yours, Tyrion. There is no taking it."
"He's always loved her."
"Is that so?" and he took the carafe and sipped it.
And Tyrion reached next to him and opened another.
"How many of these did you bring?"
"Five. It was all I could carry," and he downed some more wine.
Jaime chuckled. "You'll need to go to her, you know. She is expecting you."
"Why?"
"Because you are her Hand."
He shook his head. "I gave her advice once on how to deal with Jorah. This time it will be on her."
"That isn't for you to decide. You aren't King yet, you are the Hand of the Queen, and she requires your presence."
He took a very long draught. "I don't want to."
"Spoken like a child, not a man," Jaime downed the rest of the wine.
"I feel like a child."
"Then get off your ass and go to her!" Jaime yelled, standing up, his voice echoing in the chamber. "Sitting here feeling sorry for yourself won't do a thing. Jorah is up there now, begging her to marry him no doubt, and here you are, getting more intoxicated by the minute. It's pathetic."
Tyrion looked at him. "How can I compete with Jorah Mormont?"
"You are, for all your wit, so very dull, Tyrion. You don't need to compete. You have her heart. Now go to her before she regains her wits and tells you to pack your things."
Tyrion shook his head, but stood. "What do I say?"
"You don't need to say anything. You haven't done anything wrong, except run from your Queen when she needed you."
He nodded. "It's peaceful here," he looked around.
"It's a catacomb full of corpses. I doubt the place sees much in terms of action."
He laughed. "Do you miss her?"
Jaime cleared his throat and looked around. His eyes fell on the stone statue of Lyanna. "Every day."
Tyrion nodded. "Well. I suppose I should go…see how Jorah Mormont survived greyscale."
"Yes. Off with you now," and Jaime smiled at him.
Tyrion began to walk away, then stopped and turned to look at him. "Will you stay in King's Landing at Lord Commander?"
He snickered. "I don't know."
"Well, you should. You are a fine warrior and leader," and he left.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm marrying Tyrion Lannister."
Jorah's face fell. He shook his head…"You're…"
"Marrying for love, just as you suggested," she smiled.
"You are in love with him?" he sounded positively astounded.
"Yes."
"How?" he breathed.
"How do I love him? Well, I haven't thought of it like that, really…but I love him with every breath that I take, every beat of my heart. He is my life and my soul."
At that, there was a knock.
Dany looked at the door…"Come in," she called out.
And Tyrion entered the room.
Jorah glared at him. "You. I brought you to her," he seethed.
"And for that, you have my eternal gratitude," and he sat down at the head of the table.
"How dare you mock me! You were in a box, on a ship…"
"Yes, thank for that colorful look back into my journey. And now I am here, at Winterfell, sitting on a chair. Good to know how the story ends."
Jorah stood. "You have no right to her. I would have died for her…"
"Jorah, thank you…but I must ask you…" Dany began.
"And I wouldn't?" Tyrion demanded.
"You?!" he spat. "Don't make me laugh."
"I'm not. If you laugh it is of your own accord. Now, I can make you laugh. Of that I am certain."
What came from his throat sounded like a growl. He drew his sword…and Dany yelled, but no words could be discerned…Tyrion closed his eyes…Jorah reared back, sword in hand, and without preamble, cast his blow…
There was a thud.
And then a scream…
Jaime Lannister came rushing into the room, wielding his own Valaryian steel…
And he found the Queen slumped across his brother's lap. Tyrion looked at Jaime…"Help me, brother…"
Jaime rushed to his side and pulled Dany off of him. She was covered in blood, and there was no way to tell where the wound originated. "Help! The Queen!" he cried, and looked at Jorah, who was horror struck. "Don't move."
Tyrion didn't feel the tears until he saw them falling on her face…her beautiful face…he was holding her…she was unconscious, but breathing…"No," he whispered. "Do not leave me, Daenerys…please…no…"
"Daenerys," Jorah was saying. "What have I done, Daenerys…" he went to reach for her.
"Do not come one inch closer, filth," Tyrion spat.
And guards entered the room, filling the space and crowding the Queen.
"Jorah Mormont will be taken to the dungeon and placed in a cell," Jaime was saying. "Jon, where is the Maester?"
Tyrion didn't hear any of it. He was holding her close, holding onto the breath which was barely there, calling on whatever powers there were in the world, whatever gods might be listening, to smile upon his love…
For he loved her. He loved her, and he was only realizing how much, now that her dying body was bleeding all over his arms. "…and when we reach King's Landing," he was saying. "The fires will be lit, and there will be many cooks there, with boiling pots of stew. And once the weather is a touch more warm, we can venture again to the Street of Flour and bring bread back, just as we did all those weeks ago…" he said into her ear.
"Tyrion, the Maester is here to take Her Majesty," Jaime said.
He nodded, not caring that his face was covered in tears and in blood. "I want to follow," he said, as she was lifted from his embrace.
"Of course," said King Jon, "I'll escort you behind her."
And Tyrion fell in step behind the King of the North, in sad procession towards the healing rooms, where he could only hope that once more fate would be kind to him.
Though he was such a little man, he likely used up all of his luck.
A/N: Two updates today, for I think that will be it until next week. Just a few more chapters left. Thanks so much for reading!
