CHAPTER 2

Jorah returned with Sam sometime later. Daenerys had dozed off again in the time he was gone. Her body felt so heavy and their emotional reunion had used up what little energy she had. Nevertheless, Jorah sat on the bed and carefully touched her shoulder.

"Khaleesi," he whispered. Dany stirred and her eyes fluttered open, not fully registering what was happening. "Samwell is here. He'd like to look at your wounds and ask you a few questions. Do you feel well enough for that?"

"Yes, I think so." Her voice sounded far away, but she wanted to know what exactly was wrong with her.

Jorah looked over his shoulder and motioned for Sam to proceed. While Sam unpacked his instruments, Jorah helped Dany sit up on the bed. When he moved away to make room for Sam, she reached out to grab his hand. He hesitated for a moment, still uncertain about touching her when others were watching. "Please," she said. He took her hand in both of his and sat in the chair next to the bed.

Sam quietly began by unwrapping the bandage on her head. "Glad to see you awake, Your Grace. You gave us all a proper fright. No one more so than Ser Jorah here." Sam nodded in Jorah's direction, provoking a polite smile from the knight.

"Imagine how I feel seeing ghosts." She squeezed Jorah's hand to remind herself that he was there.

"Yes, peculiar that. But I suppose it isn't the first resurrection in our company, is it?" Jon. Of course. Sam was right. Jon had been brought back to life after suffering a similar fate. Could the same magic that saved Jon have saved Jorah? Jorah cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with being the topic of conversation.

Sam took the cue and continued with his probing. "The laceration on your head is healing well enough. I think we can leave the bandage off for the time being." Dany was grateful to have the full use of both eyes again. Sam moved on to checking the series of small bruises and cuts on her arms and hands, letting out the occasional sigh or hum. When he moved to press lightly on her ribs, she winced.

"Does it hurt to breathe, Your Grace?"

"A bit," she admitted.

"I see. Fortunately, I think we can rule out any punctured organs, but I suspect that when Drogon grabbed you with his, um, talon he may have accidentally broken a couple of your ribs. But not to worry, you should be good as new in a few weeks." She gave a small nod. Sam then lifted the furs to examine her injured leg. "Hm. Your right ankle appears to be more swollen today than it was yesterday."

"Unsurprising. She stood on it this morning." Jorah added with a hint of disapproval.

"Mhmm. Well, I suppose we can rule out a major breakage then. If it were more than a small fracture or sprain, I doubt you would have been able to stand. We'll keep an eye on it. I'll see if I can find you a crutch of some sort when you're well enough to be more mobile." Sam gave her a warm smile. At this moment, Dany couldn't help but admire the kindness of the young man and his ability to put aside their muddy history and execute his duties with such warmth. After she had executed his father and brother- she shook her head to banish the thought.

Seemingly finished with his assessment, Sam awkwardly pulled a chair up to the end of the bed and took a seat. The mood in the room seemed to change suddenly. Sam looked to Jorah, who nodded for him to go ahead.

"Your Grace, um, if I may be so bold, it's not the injuries from the fall that worry me most. They seem to be healing well enough, although not nearly as quickly as I would expect from someone your age. And…you… you've lost quite a bit of weight since I saw you last in Winterfell. Is there some prior illness I should know about? Something you had before coming to King's Landing?"

"No illness that I'm aware of." It wasn't entirely true. She hadn't really eaten in weeks.

Sam gave Jorah another concerned and uncertain look- had they planned this interrogation? "Your Grace, please. To treat you properly, I need to know the full scope of your health both before and after the battle."

What are they getting at? "I suppose I haven't had much of an appetite since leaving Winterfell."

"Why is that?"

"People I lo…people very dear to me were gone. I felt isolated. And I-" Should she say it? Would they think she was being paranoid? "I had reason to believe someone might be trying to poison me." She looked directly at Sam. She wasn't accusing him of putting her in danger, but when Jon's true parentage was revealed, she began to suspect a coup from within her council. "Lord Varys made it clear that he thought I was no longer fit to rule."

Incompetence should not be rewarded with blind loyalty. As long as I have my eyes, I'll use them.

In his eyes, Daenerys had become a tyrant. Maybe she had...

She continued, "It wouldn't have been the first time he tried to use poison against me." She thought of the wineseller in the market outside of Vaes Dothrak. The pained expression on Jorah's face told her he was remembering it too. "He believed Jon had a better claim. I began to suspect his betrayal not long after we reached Dragonstone. I stopped eating as a precaution." Jorah wiped his face with his hands and stood to pace the room. Sam looked at the floor uncomfortably.

"When his treason was confirmed, I sentenced him to death."

"I see," Sam said. Jorah and Sam shared a knowing glance as if her confession were more a confirmation than a revelation.

A long, tense silence followed. Sam cleared his throat, "You must be very hungry then. I'll have the kitchen send up some stew." With that, Sam stood to gather his things, and with a slight bow, he left the room.

Jorah stood near the fireplace with his back to her. Something was troubling him. What did they know that she did not?

"What are you not telling me?"

Jorah turned to face her. "I'm not sure where to start."

"Tell me who brought you back. Tell me why you're here." He stared at her quietly for a long moment, unsure of how to begin.

"Bran Stark sent me to King's Landing to find you. He said if I did not reach you before the bells stopped ringing-"

Suddenly there was a firm knock at the door.

Seven Hells.

"Come in," Jorah called, expecting it to be a maid with her dinner. Instead, it was Jon Snow who entered the room.

"Dany." He seemed to be on his guard and took slow steps towards her bed. She wasn't surprised considering how they had left things before the siege. "Sam said you were awake. How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think." As much as she knew she and Jon needed to talk, she was not pleased to have her conversation with Jorah interrupted.

"Have you eaten?" Jon asked awkwardly. Why are they all so bloody interested in my eating habits?

"No, I haven't." She said a bit too irritably.

Jorah took a step towards the door, "Sam sent for some stew. I'll go check to see where it is. I'm sure you two could use a moment alone." Daenerys looked over at him with eyes full of questions. His eyes met hers only for a moment. Later, they promised. He quietly exited the room.

Bran Stark sent me to King's Landing. Bran Stark sent Jorah back to her? It didn't make sense.

Jon looked at her seriously, "How are you really?"

"Confused, mostly. So much seems to have happened while I was ill. I remember burning the Greyjoy fleet. I remember the bells. I remember thinking-" she stopped herself. I remember thinking everyone deserved to die. "I remember thinking it was…finally over."

"When the Lannister army threw down their swords, we moved to take the Red Keep. We were able to walk right through the front gates. You and Drogon finished the battle before it could start. Many of our men owe you their lives," he seemed as though he wanted to touch her, but he stopped himself.

If you only knew, Jon Snow.

"Cersei had no defenses around the Red Keep?"

"Cersei was already dead when we got inside. She was killed by Jaime Lannister. When we took the Keep, we found him with her body in the war room."

"What?" She looked at him in disbelief. The last time she heard mention of Jaime Lannister he had been a prisoner in her camp.

"Jaime claimed he knew he was the only person Cersei would let close enough to do the deed."

"I suppose Tyrion released him before the battle?" Jon simply nodded in response.

"I see." It was all she could think to say.

"Jaime is dying, Dany. He killed Euron Greyjoy as he tried to enter the tunnels into the Keep, but not before suffering grave wounds himself. Sam doesn't expect him to live much longer."

"Someone should send for Ser Brienne. She deserves to say goodbye if she can."

"A raven was sent to Winterfell. She should arrive any day."

"Good. And Tyrion?" She wasn't sure what to make of her Hand. Freeing Jaime had been another betrayal- an explicit disregard of her orders. But she might have done the same in his position.

"He's been drinking more heavily than usual, but that's Tyrion. He helped organize soup stalls in the poorest areas of the city and has already devised plans to rebuild the city walls and infrastructure. I think it's his way of avoiding his grief."

"I understand." And she did. She had been avoiding her grief for as long as she could remember. She pitied Tyrion.

They sat in silence for what seemed like a very long time.

"We've all been worried about you." His face and voice were solemn. He seemed to be avoiding looking at her. Was he really so afraid of what she might do?

"Even you?"

"Of course." Finally, he looked at her. She could see the pain in his eyes. They had both lost so much to get here, and the weight of what was yet to be decided hung in the space between them.

"Jon. Please." She motioned to the chair next to her bed. Tentatively, he accepted it. "After everything we've been through, I think we can be honest with each other."

He smirked, "Yes."

"Good. I know what you must think of me after…the way we left things." Memories of their conversation at Dragonstone flashed across her mind. There is no love for me here, there is only fear… "I need to apologize. I understand your hesitation. Your fear even. I was frightened of me too. But I wasn't myself. I can't explain what happened to me. I lost myself-"

"I think I can," Jon interrupted her.

"What?"

"I can explain what happened to you."

Hi all! Thanks so much to those of you who have Favorited/followed this story in the last 24 hours. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. This chapter was a little less clear in my head - I know where I'm going, I just have to find a way to get there. Right now I'm trying to lay the foundation of the plot I have in my head without completely disregarding canon (looking at you, D&D). So, I hope you enjoy my weird transitional/expository word soup.

*Also, just in case it's not clear- italicized words/phrases within the story indicate internal dialogue, thoughts, or memories.