Chapter 7

Choices

The Bear

There could have been thousands of warriors around them and he'd still only see her.

Somewhere in a distant corner of his mind, he could remember her an innocent girl, someone whose world was that of savagery and pain. But gone was the softness she often wore, gone was the innocence. She was steel now, power and fire and glory. Jorah looked to the high walls of Meereen, and then to the fighting men that followed his queen, the Unsullied, the Dothraki, and those who came to bow before her dragons, who followed a legend for the legend alone, for a mere glimpse of fire made flesh.

She was everything.

She was the past, unfortunate and dark, a reminder of how low the mighty can fall should they falter, should madness to consume their hearts.

She was the future, for there was nothing to fight for, nothing to follow but her and the impossible things she could do. She was the change the world needed.

He entered the tent to find her just as he'd left her the night before. The letters and the books were scattered across the table and the bench. His queen sat in the midst of the chaos, reading her mother's words wearing grief instead of steel, sadness instead of fire.

"Khaleesi." He announced himself, watching as it Daenerys took a moment to breathe, putting the letter aside and looking his way. Did she even sleep since the captain's visit?

"Have you seen, Ser Jorah?" she asked, her tone that of excitement and giddiness. Though she seemed tired and weary, he'd never seen her as content.

"See what, Khaleesi?" He asked, moving closer to the table and taking the pre-offered scroll.

"She loved him," Daenerys said with a sigh. "It seems he was there when I was born. He was with her in the end."

The folly of the spider and his secrets made Jorah fear for his queen. While she seemed ready to accept this Dragonseed as her kin, Jorah had his own suspicions. No one can trust the Spider's intentions, it bites when you expect it the least.

"It's her seal," Daenerys said, reading the hesitance on his face like an open book. "Her words and I know you don't trust them, my loyal bear,"

Her tone softened when she addressed him as such, and Jorah dared hope for a moment, he dared hope but said nothing.

"He is my brother, I can feel it," She stood and walked to the entrance of her tent, a finger rubbing the neck of the dragon on its perch as she gazed at the horizons outside. She giggled then, a childish sound he had yet to hear. "I have a brother,"

"That remains to be seen," said Jorah.

Daenerys looked at him in annoyance this time, and he dipped his head to avoid her eyes.

"You're worried I would take the Masters' offer and sail to Westeros in their ships," she challenged. Jorah wondered how she could always know his thoughts.

"House Targaryen has allied with the free cities before, Khaleesi. They have come to their aid on dragon back. No one would fault you for taking their gifts."

"Jaehaerys would," she said softly. "Do you think he would?"

I do not know. "I don't know him, Khaleesi, I cannot say."

"He would," she said, staring deeply into the red dragon's eyes. "He is a knight, like you Ser Jorah, sworn to defend those who cannot defend themselves. What kind of queen am I to leave these tortured souls to rot in that city? What kind of queen would take the Masters' gifts and smile as she sails away?"

Every queen that has ever lived, but not you. "Then stay the path," said Jorah, standing and stepping closer, close enough that the dragon would still be out of reach. "Stay the path and meet your... brother another day. You're needed here, Khaleesi."

There was silence in the tent then, save for the gentle sounds the dragon made. Daenerys took her seat amidst the books and scrolls once more. She spared him one glance before flipping through the mess to find one scroll. "The maester of Dragonstone wrote this. He wrote this the day Jae left Dragonstone. He discovered that he was no Dragonseed that day, that he was so much more."

What's better, Khaleesi, a Dragonseed or a Targaryen Bastard? Was there ever a difference at all?

"When he found the truth, he worried for me and Viserys, wanted to find us and protect us. I will go. I'm good with the sword but not good enough. Those were his words, Ser Jorah, you must see that he and I are not the same as Viserys. He and I, we are the same." She held the scroll with such care, such reverence.

Jorah couldn't help but admire the Dragonseed, solely for the hope he'd given his queen. "Forgive me, Khaleesi, but he remains baseborn regardless of his intentions."

"If he is who he says he is then I shall love him like a brother regardless," she said. To that, Jorah had nothing to say.

"If he is who he says he is," repeated Jorah, feeling the weight of the words on his shoulders. "How will we know?"

"I'll know. My children will know."

"Khaleesi I-" His protest died on his lips when she looked his way. After so much time in her service, it was easy to see the dismissal in her eyes.

"We take Meereen today, Ser Jorah. Let us speak of this after."

"Do you think she will legitimize you?"

"I don't care either way. Gerris is my name. Whatever she commands, I shall obey."

"And if she sees you as a contender to her rule? If she asks you to take the Black?"

"Then I suppose I would have a lifetime of cold and snow to look forward to."

"I wish you wouldn't say such things. I'd hate to see you waste your life and your sword defending the Wall with thieves and rapists."

"My life is mine because of Queen Rhaella and the sacrifices she made. A debt is owed, Godry, it must be repaid."

"Not like this."

"However she sees fit. I've lived longer and better than I should have. I'm not afraid of the cold. I'm not afraid to die."

"I know. It's why Ser Bonifer groomed you to lead us. Melwyn has his sharp mind, I have the spear, strength, talent, and-"

"Fuck's sake, Godry."

"But you, you're fearless, you never hesitate. Does that make us fools for following you?"

"Perhaps. But it's still better than following thieves and rapists into the frozen North, no?"

They made themselves feel at home in the great pyramid. As close to home as one can get. But it was as foreign and strange to him now as it was on the day of his exile. The conquest of Meereen would be a thing of songs to come. His queen was the first to break chains and take a city with its own slaves. By dawn, everyone within the walls of Meereen was free. In a single night, there were slaves no more.

He found his queen admiring the city below. Meereen was a beauty, a remnant of Ghiscari glory that was almost lost to time. Old Ghis was one of the oldest empires of Essos, and then the Valyrian freehold unleashed its dragons and now there was no Ghis to be seen, nothing but piles of rubble and sickly salted lands that would grow nothing until the ends of time.

She was distracted these days, the very thought of family across the Narrow Sea seemed to put her on edge. He could see the worry in her eyes, that the Dragonseed would die before she reached him, that fate would throw them both in opposite directions, and keep them apart longer.

"Khaleesi," He announced his presence as he always did.

She turned immediately and graced him with a smile that he felt unworthy of. "Any word?" she asked eagerly.

"Nothing yet, your grace," he answered, joining her in admiring the view. She looked on ahead with a sigh.

"It's taking too long," she complained.

"It's a long journey, my queen," he replied, choosing reassurance over doubt. "And no one knows where in Westeros he might be. But sooner or later, we'll hear word of him."

"I fear the worst," she admitted, wringing her hands together in evident worry. "It isn't safe there for him."

"He survived this long," said Jorah, "He's a knight, Khaleesi, and he's clever. He will find his path."

"You informed the captains?" she asked the same question twice a day ever since the ship sailed away.

"Aye, my queen. They know to bring anyone with news from Westeros here so that you may speak to them personally."

"Good," She said, "Where do you think he is?"

It had been a long time since he set foot in Westeros. But when he closed his eyes, Jorah could see the harsh beauty of the North, the green fields of the Reach, the colorful Riverlands, and the tourneys of old.

"We know he was in the Riverlands last, squiring for a knight. He could be anywhere. Some knights choose to take their squires on a journey throughout the kingdoms, so that they may know the people they swear to defend, the lands they add to their titles, and the realms they must serve."

"Did you do the same, Ser Jorah?" Her question was not about the Dragonseed, and Jorah was glad of it.

"No, my queen, I was never a squire. I was knighted on the field during the siege of Pyke. But I do at times wish I had been a squire," he smiled then, eyes transfixed on the lights of the city below. "To learn from a worthy knight, to travel and fight for those who cannot defend themselves. Perhaps it would have made me a different man or spared me the mistakes I've made."

Her fingers found his own. He looked over to see the softness of empathy on her features, an expression he saw all too often these days. She'd worn it upon seeing the slaves, the Unsullied, and every other horror in Essos.

"You are a different man now," she replied, "A good man."

"Your grace," came Whitebeard's voice from behind them. The queen looked his way, and Jorah stiffened. He knew what was to come.

before the sun even set on their conquest, he found himself riding with Mereen at his back. Remove Ser Jorah from the city, she had said. He was vaguely aware of the horse he rode, and its journey away from the mighty walls of Meereen. It was difficult to believe that he had lost everything he loved, everything he had, over a false promise he no longer believed in.

The man he used to be would try to forget, to focus on the path ahead. But that man was long since gone, replaced with someone he was proud to be, someone who lived only to serve his queen. But this man has no place to go.

Save one.

Jorah spurred his horse forward. He needed a ship bound for Westeros. I have a Dragonseed to find.

"The best any of us can hope for is to serve and serve well, to make sense of this world."

"We must do our duty, that's what Stannis used to say."

"He does not sound like pleasant company."

"Perhaps not, but he's honorable and just."

"As honorable as Ser Bonifer?"

"Not quite that honorable, I doubt anyone is. But Stannis tries to be better. In that, he is a better man than most."

Cheese Knife

His eyes were on fire.

The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, worse than the kiss of steel or bludgeons of men. He fell off his bed in his attempt to stand and crawled closer to the fire. Something isn't right.

It was then that the whispers came, voices that mumbled nonsense in his ears. He ground his teeth to bear through the wave of noise, eyes shut tight.

Pray, the last of them whispered. They faded away too quickly, and the pain in his eyes was gone.

He dared open them and saw the sleeping forms of Godry and Melwyn, one sprawled by the fire, the other propped against a tree with his bow and arrow held tight to his chest. It had been a long journey through the Riverlands, a kingdom ravaged by the war and left to burn in the wake of every battle.

He crawled towards the corner, looking through his belongings for the seven-pointed star he kept. Ser Bonifer had carved one for each of them before wishing them good fortune, just as he always promised. While the Hundred rode south, the three of them rode North, hoping to avoid the royal forces in favor of finding passage to Essos at White Harbor. But navigating the war-ridden land was difficult, and questions were asked more often than ever before. But Jae had faith, he had faith until the Gods came knocking, with whispered warnings in his ears.

He kissed the seven-pointed star before holding close to his chest, closing his eyes and whispering a prayer to each of the Seven, for guidance, for protection, for the strength to receive their warnings. The whispers came again, clearer this time and without pain. He waited, eyes closed and mind filled with humble obedience. Darkness began to fill the edges of his mind, and then the visions came.

He saw a man with a wolf's head riding a horse, he saw banners with twin towers held by gluttonous men, with the tongues and eyes of serpents. He saw gold flow like water down the walls of the keep, covering the Riverlands. He saw wolves, he saw the North, he saw his duty.

When he snapped back into consciousness, it was with a loud gasp and a coughing fit. Godry and Melwyn were startled out of their sleep. They rushed to his side as he caught his breath and looked around for dangers that would never come.

"North," he said in between breaths, "We have to go North."

"Yes, to White Harbor, that's what we're doing," Godry spoke slowly, as though Jae was a child.

"Not for passage. I...I saw something. We need to find the Young Wolf,"

His words were met with silence. "The gods speak to me in my dreams," He finally admitted, and the silence lingered on. "This is the path, I can feel it."

"Is this how you knew to go to Pyke?" asked Melwyn, "How you learned the truth about Tal?"

Jae nodded mutely, focused on his breathing still.

"And you're certain?" Godry seemed worried and anxious. Not everyone sees this the way I do, some think it madness.

"When this happened before, Stannis almost died. Tal almost escaped our grasp. Every time I have a dream, I'm shown terrible things. I think I'm meant to stop them."

Godry began pacing, a hand running through his hair in frustration. He seemed conflicted, as though he wanted to be with his friends, but could not bring himself to believe in visions and dreams. "This is madness," he finally said.

"There are stories of this happening to Targaryens in the past, they-"

"And there are stories of men wedding the dead, of lords wedding daughters of gods. Stories are just that, stories."

"What would you have me do, Godry?" Jae finally asked, bearing through the tremors and the pain.

"Stay the path," his friend said, "You chose your purpose, remember? It's to find your sister, not fight a war that isn't yours to begin with."

They both looked to Melwyn then. He'd been silent far too long, and whenever Jae and Godry argued, he was the one to talk sense into them.

"I agree with him, Gerris," Melwyn finally spoke, shocking them both. "Your sister is queen now. She'll look to Westeros sooner or later, and when she does, this war would have already cleared her path to the throne, it would weaken kingdoms, bring lords to heel. They do not hate war, but they hate fighting more than one in a single lifetime."

"So I should let it be?" Jae asked uncertainly. I've never defied the gods before.

Melwyn placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, "Let it be, brother."

Jae stared at the seven-pointed star in his hands, the piece of wood he held to his chest every night before sleep took him and nodded. let it be so, he thought to himself. "To White Harbor then."

"Men carry secrets in their hearts, dark and terrible ones. They use them as shields when it serves them."

"You did the right thing, my queen, despite the personal cost."

"Ser Jorah was always loyal. He was always by my side. Did I send away the only friend I have left?"

"I do not know, your grace, I only know of what he did. But he won't be the only friend you have."

"I only wonder if the next one betrays me as well."

"Not this one. We received word of the Dragonseed, my queen. He is on his way here."

"Jaehaerys? Truly?"

"He should arrive any day now."

"Then we shall greet him properly."