My working title for this chapter was "When Men Meddle" - I think that really explains just about everything you're about to read.

Also, love is SUPER irrational and I think very few of us are prepared to accept love from others without assuming the other shoe is about to drop. SO. I hope you enjoy.

(Also also, my laptop stopped working this week so this entire chapter was written in the notes section of my phone. I apologize in advance for inevitable typos.)

I don't own GoT.

Chapter 9

JORAH:

Why had Tyrion been asleep in the stairwell leading to Daenerys' rooms? What did he know? What had he heard? Daenerys said she didn't care what the others thought, but Jorah had to. This did not sit well with him.

Jorah followed Tyrion to his chambers. When they arrived, he couldn't believe the state of Tyrion's quarters. Multiple books lay open on every available surface. Wine stains covered half-written letters on his desk. Parchment littered the floor. Discarded clothing lay in a small piles around the room. Everything appeared to be in utter disarray- save the bed, which looked as if it had not been slept on in days.

As much as Jorah wanted to get to the point of their meeting, he couldn't help but cast a concerned glance in Tyrion's direction.

"Don't look at me like that. I can accept pity from just about anyone, but not you. From you I expect a long, reproachful look and a firm punch in the face. That's the Mormont way, remember?" Tyrion gave him a sad smile.

It was easy to forget just how much they had all lost on their respective journeys. Jorah rested a heavy hand on Tyrion's shoulder, "Best not to confuse pity with empathy. Speaking from experience, it can be very isolating."

"Wise words from an old man," Tyrion smirked.

Jorah rolled his eyes, "Have it your way then. Is there a point to this meeting? I have work to do."

"Yes, but first-" Tyrion grabbed a pitcher from his desk and filled the two cups he held- presumably from the night before- shoving a full cup into Jorah's hands, "A toast-"

"It's a bit early." Jorah looked at the liquid questioningly.

Tyrion held his cup out in Jorah's direction, "There's the reproach I've been waiting for. As I was saying: A toast to the last surviving members of two ancient houses. May the Gods have mercy on us both." Tyrion drained his cup while Jorah took a small sip and returned his to the desk. It hadn't occurred to Jorah before, but Tyrion was right. There they stood, the last surviving male heirs to houses Mormont and Lannister. How disappointed their fathers would be.

Tyrion gestured to the ornate chair next to the fireplace, then he pulled his own desk chair over to meet it. Jorah sat and watched Tyrion in silence, still unsure of his purpose here.

Tyrion sat heavily, facing Jorah. "I'm glad you didn't stay dead, Mormont. Truly." Tyrion looked at Jorah, and for the first time, there was no hint of mockery in his expression. "How did it happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your miraculous resurrection. How did Bran Stark manage it, do you think?"

"I'm not sure..." Jorah hesitated. Tyrion had the most brilliant mind Jorah had ever known; perhaps he would have the answers no one else did. Jorah removed the leather pouch from around his neck and tossed it to Tyrion. "Sam found that on my body when they pulled me from the ashes. Do you recognize it?"

Tyrion shook the small stone into his palm and held it up to the light. "It's not something I recognize."

Jorah couldn't hide the hint of disappointment in his voice as he reached for the stone, "No matter."

"Unless…no, it couldn't be," Tyrion eyed the stone suspiciously.

"What?"

"In Meereen…the Red priestess, Kinvara, wore a stone like this. So did Lady Melisandre, if I recall correctly." Tyrion continued to turn the stone between his fingers.

Jorah leaned forward, "That makes no sense. Why would the Red Woman's ruby end up with me? I don't practice her religion."

"I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with Daenerys? Melisandre thought Daenerys was, quote, 'The Princess Who Was Promised.' While Kinvara said she was 'born of fire to remake the world.' Now you are born of fire too, I suppose. Perhaps someone with knowledge of the stone's power knew what they were doing when they left it on you." Tyrion gave Jorah a faraway look, as if he were realizing something which hadn't previously occurred to him.

Jorah looked at the stone as Tyrion turned it in his hand, "I saw the Red Woman ride up on the battlefield. She told me to have the Dothraki lift their swords and then she lit their arakhs ablaze with her magic. She nodded to me before she rode away, and for a moment, it gave me hope that we all might live."

Tyrion nodded somberly, "Only trouble is, the Red Woman died before we lit the pyres. Davos said she turned into dust as the sun came up. There's no way she could have hidden it on you herself." Tyrion put the stone back in its pouch and passed it to Jorah who secured it around his neck once more. "Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Perhaps it's meant to stay a mystery." Honestly, he tried not to think about his death too much. It made him feel less human in a way. Less like a living, breathing man and more like the dead they had fought so hard to destroy.

"What's it like? Is there life after death?" Tyrion asked quietly.

"Not that I've seen…I'm sorry." Jorah knew why he was asking, "Ser Jaime…was a fierce warrior."

"Oblivion is probably the best any Lannister could hope for after what we've done." Tyrion stood to retrieve the pitcher of wine from his desk, but when he moved to refill his cup Jorah placed a firm hand over it.

Tyrion sighed deeply, "Very well then. To the point." He put the pitcher down and returned to his seat. "It seems you are now the second undead hero our Queen has loved."

Jorah tensed. This was the conversation he had feared it would be, "As a longtime friend and trusted advisor."

Tyrion cast him and incredulous look, "Please Mormont, you insult my intelligence."

Jorah shifted in his chair, "I don't know what you've heard, but eavesdropping on the Queen-"

Tyrion interrupted him, "I would advise that when arguing with one's romantic partner, it is best to keep your voices low."

Damn him.

Jorah moved forward suddenly and grabbed handfuls of Tyrion's tunic, but Tyrion threw up his hands in a gesture that signaled surrender.

"Wait! Before you beat me bloody, listen to what I have to say. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize her reign."

"You betrayed her trust before," Jorah said a bit too loudly.

"I did. So did you. Fortunately for us our Queen is forgiving."

Jorah released him, and stepped back.

Tyrion groaned, "When I said I wanted you to hit me, I was being hyperbolic." He halfheartedly adjusted his now rumpled tunic, "Now, before you lose your head, know that I'm not fundamentally against it..."

Jorah looked at him coldly, not trusting what Tyrion was about to say. "What did you hear?"

Tyrion smoothed his beard, "You know, you are perhaps the only soldier I have ever met who can cut as fatally with a glance as you do with a blade."

"What did you hear?" Jorah whispered again through gritted teeth.

"I heard her say she loved you."

That was it, then. Jorah's stomach sank. He knew it had been too good to be true.

Jorah sighed, "If you've brought me here to tell me you think it's unwise, I already know."

Tyrion waved his hand, "I know you do. I heard that too. Let me ask you, if it weren't you she had taken to her bed; if it were some other exiled knight- some other, much older exiled knight- how would you advise her?"

"I would advise against it. Just as I did last night." Jorah moved to lean against the back of his chair, finding that he was too anxious to sit.

Tyrion continued, "Sensible. Now, what if she told you that she had fallen in love with a man who had served her faithfully for many years. A man who had risked his life for her numerous times. A man who literally died for her, only to be brought back from the dead to serve by her side once more. What would you advise her to do with that man?"

"What are you saying?"

Tyrion stood to refill his cup and this time Jorah did not stop him, "I'm saying you present an unusual problem. You are both her best and worst option, and I need to know what it means for the realm."

Jorah shook his head, "She just wants something safe and familiar after everything she's been through. It will pass. She still loves Jon Snow. She denies it, but I can see it in the way she talks about him."

Tyrion let out a sarcastic chuckle, "Then perhaps you should have Samwell Tarly check your sight. She's paid almost no notice to Jon since you returned to her side. Any love you see between them is a projection of your own insecurities."

"Did you bring me here to insult me?"

"No, but for such a clever man you are being willfully blind. When you died, it changed her- and not for the better. When she was ill, it wasn't Jon Snow she called for in her sleep. It was you. She does love you." Tyrion looked at him seriously, and Jorah knew he meant what he said.

Jorah ran his hands through his hair, "What do you want me to say? You said yourself that I couldn't stand by her side when she took the Seven Kingdoms. You just said I pose a problem to the realm."

Tyrion pinched the bridge of his nose, "Look, I cannot ignore the fact that you took a blade to the heart for her and were subsequently resurrected- either by a boy who can see infinite futures or a fire deity- to return to her side. Clearly you have a purpose, and I don't have a rational argument against magic. There's no doubt she needs you. However, I cannot pretend that a man twice her age with no significant lands, titles, or wealth is an ideal consort for the Queen."

"You are making rather grand assumptions about the depth of her affection for me." Jorah returned to his seat.

Tyrion let out an exasperated sigh, "And you are desperately oblivious if you think her feelings for you are a passing whim." Tyrion gave him a pointed look, "But nevertheless, let us consider the first possibility: you stay with her, you marry, you rule by her side. You're both decent, compassionate people. It's a pretty picture for peacetime."

"But?"

"But let us consider the other possibility. You marry leaving her exposed to opposition from the other noble families- namely the North, but both house Tully and house Arryn would bend the knee to a direwolf before they would a dragon or a bear. We have to assume that many- if not all of them- know about Jon's true parentage-"

"Thanks to you."

"Yes. I allowed myself to be manipulated by Sansa Stark. Therein lies my concern. Sansa is not vicious, but she is fiercely protective of her lands, her people, and her family- that includes Jon Snow. She's also remarkably skilled in this game that we play. It would make her a terrible enemy if she chose to be."

"Do you really think Sansa Stark would thrust the North into another war over the Queen's choice of bed partner?"

"No, Sansa's not a fool. But like you, I think an advantageous marriage offers Daenerys security that she doesn't currently have. It's part of what made Jon an ideal match. A union between Stark and Targaryen would have tempered the legacy of the Mad King for the people of Westeros and tied the largest province in the Seven Kingdoms directly to the throne."

"You're forgetting one important piece of this puzzle. Jon himself. Even if he no longer harbors romantic interest for Daenerys, he doesn't want to be King. He wouldn't allow Sansa to start a war with Daenerys over a throne he does not want."

"That's true, but he didn't want to be King in the North either. In my experience 'want' often has little to do with who sits on the Iron Throne. King's are merely pawns for better players to move about the board. Sansa knows Jon would grant the North its independence- something she wants badly and something Daenerys refused to do. What is more, Jon would not fight against Sansa if it came to war. He would not fight against the North. And, as a male heir, he has a better claim. Jon Snow presents a major complication. Daenerys cannot rule in absolute security as long as the shadow of Jon Snow's lineage looms over her."

Jorah stood once more and paced the length of the room, "Daenerys risked everything to defend the North- to defend Westeros- against the army of the dead."

"Yes, and when the battle was done it wasn't Daenerys they praised, it was Jon, remember?" Jorah looked at him blankly, "Oh, no. Of course. You were...absent. My point is, the unfortunate reality is even the people Jon pledged to her when he bent the knee do not consider her their queen. If our allies won't enthusiastically support her, who will?"

Jorah rubbed the whiskers on his chin roughly, "Must she spend the rest of her life sacrificing personal happiness for a crown she has already won simply because you fear a handful of nobles might prefer Jon on the throne?"

Tyrion returned to his chair and sipped from his cup, "Every war ever fought has been because a handful of nobles wanted someone else on the throne. But you're right. This could all be completely contrived. I could be preparing for a threat that does not even exist. Trouble is, I can't say with any certainty and her reluctance to share any of her plans makes my job nearly impossible."

Jorah turned to face Tyrion, "You mean this meeting with the Great Houses?" In truth, this meeting had been troubling them all.

"I mean all of it. This meeting, yes. But also the delay of her coronation, her reluctance to hold any kind of public audience with her people- I don't think she's set foot in the throne room since taking the Keep."

"She's been ill."

"Perhaps it is that simple. But...she said something to me when she visited me the night Jaime died. I told her that the people of Westeros would grow to love her in time, and she asked me if they should. I fear...I fear she may no longer want to be Queen."

Jorah shook his head in disbelief, "That's impossible. All she's ever wanted is to change the world for the better."

Tyrion went on, "And she has done just that. She helped defeat the army of the dead. She decimated Euron Greyjoy's fleet. She ended Cersei's chokehold on the people of Westeros. But, in all the time I've served her, I've only seen her defeat her enemies. She knows she can conquer, but does she have the confidence to rule?"

Jorah felt very defensive suddenly, "She led the Dothraki through the Red Waste. She led the Unsullied across the Narrow Sea."

"Is leading armies ruling?"

"She ruled in Mereen."

Tyrion made a slightly pained expression, and wobbled his hand, "Impulsively, clumsily, and briefly. Some leaders are made to conquer while others are made to maintain the peace. She's compassionate. She could be a great queen, but not if she's not strategic. And certainly not if she no longer wants it."

Jorah knew she wanted it. She had to want it, or what had been the point? "All she's wanted for as long as I've known her is to break the wheel; to offer freedom to those who do not have it."

"Precisely. She wanted to liberate the people of Westeros, but the small folk aren't in chains. They're poor and hungry. They need a steady ruler now, not a warrior Queen."

Jorah shot Tyrion a cold look, "It sounds like you don't want her to rule."

Tyrion looked genuinely insulted, "Do you think I would have done everything I did if I didn't want to see Daenerys on the throne? But someone has to consider each possible outcome. That is what I'm doing. We cannot become so consumed by our idolatry of her that we lose sight of reality. The small folk do not yet trust her and the nobles do not yet support her. She is vulnerable whether we choose to acknowledge it or not."

Jorah knew he was right. The same fears had plagued his mind, "What would you suggest?"

Tyrion shrugged, "Perception is reality. She's still a stranger to the people of Westeros. They see her as the Mad King's daughter. Right now she is more usurper than savior. House Greyjoy might bend the knee to her, but the North would rally behind Sansa Stark or Jon Snow far more readily than they would Daenerys. It's important to align her with powerful allies."

"What would you have me do?" Jorah sat heavily. He had only been awake for an hour or so, but he suddenly felt very tired.

"First you need to convince her to offer independence to the North."

"I advised her to make peace with Sansa once before. Evidently it didn't work."

"She might be more inclined to listen to you now, if you understand my meaning...Which brings me to my next suggestion...She needs you by her side, but you must convince her to purse another companion."

The two men looked at each other, both understanding all too well what was being asked.

Jorah looked at the floor, "It wouldn't be the first time I stood by while she loved other men. But the harder I push it, the harder she'll fight against it."

"Not if she believes it's what you want."

Jorah felt his heart break, "It is the farthest thing from what I want."

Tyrion gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "The longer you wait, the harder it will be to let her go."

Jorah closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, gathering himself. "If that's all, I'll be going."

Tyrion gave a him a nod. Jorah then stood silently, and left the room.

He leaned against the wall of the corridor considering what he must do. Somehow he had to convince the woman he loved that she must love someone else. Would he have the words to say what needed to be said? Would he have the power to resist her when all he wanted was to have her in his arms? He had built a wall around his heart once before, but could he do it again knowing that she loved him?

This chapter really took on a life of its own, but I think we can all agree that one of the themes for the last few seasons of the show could have been "Dudes Making Bold Assumptions" so I feel like it tracks.

As always, thank you for reading. I have to go out of town for work this week so there will probably be a big gap between postings, but hopefully the next couple of chapters will make up for the delay.