A/N: Prompt: Verbal.
03x07, 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair'
Dusk falls, streaking lavender smears across the blue skies.
Daenerys sighs, leaning back to watch her children at play. Today they'd met the Yunkish representative. She'd offered her terms. Right now all she can do is wait.
As if on cue, Jorah appears, sand-stained and sun-kissed.
"You have news?" she asks promptly.
"Aye," he says.
She gestures to the seat beside her.
"The Second Sons," Jorah supplies, taking the seat. "They're a band of sellswords."
Ah, she hadn't been expecting that. "You know about sellswords, don't you?"
"A bit. I had to make coin somehow."
"It surprises me, ser. It's not a particularly heroic." She smirks at him to let him know that she's only teasing.
He takes it good-naturedly. "Aye, it is a rough business. Not the kind of company a queen should keep."
"I think I can handle myself."
"I'm sure you can. But you should keep an eye out. They have all sorts of mummer's tricks at their disposal."
"I'm sure you know your fair share."
"I might. That would be telling. Certainly not tales a queen should hear."
Dany leans across for a glass of wine, pushing one into Jorah's hand too. "I'm a Khaleesi too. Nothing can shock me."
Jorah gives her a long look. Debating where else to take their flirtation?
The thought makes her blood run cold.
Is that what she really sees this as?
Is that what he sees it as?
There's something there, she knows that. Jorah is a contradiction; at times he is stoic and unreadable, at others he wears his heart so openly on his sleeve that it's a wonder it hasn't been bloodied before now.
But the newfound awareness makes her pause.
Reminds her of what they are, how she can't encourage him.
So she adopts her regality like armour.
"I should like to see them for myself," she says. "Tomorrow."
Jorah is perceptive; he recognises the playfulness has been swept away by the storm clouds overhead. "Yes, my queen."
He places his still-full wine glass on the table and departs, leaving her alone with her turbulent thoughts.