Notes:

I haven't stopped writing my other story. Just taking a short "holiday" to write this one.

Thanks for the encouraging reviews.


When Jon came back to look in on Jorah and Daenerys a while later, Grey Worm had left to check on the Unsullied and help gather the dead. Daenerys had discarded her bloody coat and was instead wrapped in a fur. Missandei was sitting with her, holding her hand.

"How is he?" Jon asked.

When Daenerys didn't answer, Missandei said, "There's no change."

"Could you please leave us alone for a moment?" Jon asked.

Missandei looked at Daenerys, who nodded.

"I know you care for him," Jon said, sitting down on Missandei's chair. "But you haven't left his side since-"

"He saved my life."

"I know."

Looking at him for the first time since he had entered, Daenerys asked, "Do you?" How could he ever understand? "I wouldn't be sitting here if it wasn't for him."

"I know," Jon said gently, trying to take her hand, but Daenerys pulled it away. "You act as if it was my fault that he got wounded."

"We came here to help you fight the White Walkers."

Jon looked at her in disbelief. "They were a threat to all of us," he reminded her.

Daenerys sighed. "I'm sorry. I can't think at the moment. You better leave. Before I say something I shouldn't."

"You are tired. You need to sleep."

"No, I need him to wake up."

Jon shook his head in frustration but remained quiet. It was no use arguing with her like that. He hoped Jorah would make it. And he hoped there would be a change for the better soon. They had important things to discuss. But at the moment Jon knew it would only end in an argument.


Daenerys had sent Missandei away to get some sleep. She had refused to leave at first, but eventually Grey Worm had managed to convince Missandei to leave with him.

Daenerys had put her head down on Jorah's bed, dozing off from time to time while holding his hand. The moment he moved his hand, she was awake instantly. "Jorah?"

He just looked at her for a moment before he managed to speak. "You look… tired."

Daenerys laughed and almost cried at the same time. It was so like him to only worry about her and not about himself. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to encourage him, give him strength, but she couldn't say one word. Therefore, she simply stroked his cheek.

"Are you alright?" Jorah asked.

Daenerys managed to force a small smile on her face. Still having trouble with words she just nodded. Jorah seemed to relax at that and closed his eyes again. "Sleep. Rest. But come back to me," she whispered.

Eventually, Daenerys fell asleep at Jorah's bedside. When Jon looked in on them again, he lifted her from the chair and laid her on the bed next to Jorah, knowing she would have his head if he carried her to her own room. He covered her with some furs, sighed and then left to get some sleep himself.


"We are almost ready," Jon said.

Daenerys didn't reply or move.

"You have to be there when we burn the dead," Jon said, trying to be patient and understanding with her.

"You have to," Tyrion implored.

Daenerys just nodded.

"You have to get ready," Jon said. She was still wearing the clothes from the day before.

"I will stay with him, if you want me to," Missandei offered. She knew she wouldn't be missed out there anyway.

Daenerys nodded. "I don't want him to be alone."

"He won't be," Missandei assured her.

Daenerys got up from her chair and walked towards the door. Then she stopped and turned around again. Addressing Missandei, she said in Valyrian, "Come and get me if he needs me." She didn't want Jon to hear. He wouldn't approve. But the dead were already dead. Jorah wasn't.

Missandei nodded.


Once the ceremony for the dead was over Daenerys left as soon as was acceptable.

Jon followed her. When they were out of sight, he grabbed her arm and stopped her. "I know you care about him, but at the moment you are not behaving like a Queen. Right now you are behaving very selfishly."

She tore loose from his grip. "How dare you? You know nothing about him."

"I know there is no one more loyal to you than him. I spent a considerable amount of time with him beyond the Wall and on the way there. And, if you'd ask me, I would say he is in love with you."

Daenerys just stared at him, not sure what he wanted her to say.

"You are not denying it then?"

"No."

"Do you love him?"

"I need him."

"You didn't answer my question."

"In my own way." She wasn't sure anymore what she felt for Jorah. She just knew she needed him to survive.

"Are you sure that's all it is? You have spent every single moment at his side. You haven't asked me once how I am since we defeated the Night King. You haven't once talked to Arya and congratulated her that she saved us all."

"I am thankful."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"He could die," she said irritably. "All I am is in large parts because of him. He has guided me, protected me, loved-" she stopped short. She hadn't meant to say that. It had just come out. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. She turned and started to walk away, back to Jorah. She had stayed away too long already.

Jon grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Will you come to dinner?" he asked, fearing he already knew the answer. She didn't seem inclined to take any advice from him at the moment and he knew he couldn't force her. Maybe Tyrion would have more luck.

"Yes."

Jon looked at her with surprise.

"I will be there." Daenerys knew she had to make an appearance. She looked at her wrist, waiting for Jon to let go. The moment he finally did she turned and walked away.


By the time Daenerys arrived back in Jorah's room, his sleep had become fitful. She sat down on the bed and motioned for Missandei to hand her the vial with milk of the poppy, which Maester Wolkan had left for him. Daenerys leaned over him. "Jorah, wake up." She stroked his face. "Open your eyes." She could see that he was fighting his way to consciousness. When he finally opened his eyes, his face was distorted by pain. "Drink this. It will ease the pain."

"Khaleesi."

"Yes, I'm here. Drink." Daenerys lifted his head and pressed the vial to his lips. When he had drunk she gently placed his head back down on the pillow. "Fight, please fight. Stay with me." Stroking his hair, she tried to calm him until the milk of the poppy would take effect. Daenerys was so close to his face that she didn't see him lifting his arm. It caught her completely by surprise when he touched her cheek. She leaned into his hand. But only a moment later his strength left him and he closed his eyes again.

Daenerys lowered her head to his ear. "You said you wanted to see me sit on the Iron Throne. Do you remember? I need you more than ever. Please, Jorah, I am asking you to fight. I know I have asked so much of you already, but please, don't leave me." She rested her forehead on his shoulder, but only for a moment, afraid to cause him additional pain.

"You should try to get some sleep," Missandei said concerned. "You need to be rested when the Northerners decide if they will go south with you or not."

"I know. But I am too nervous to sleep," she admitted. In her head Daenerys was trying to go over what she would say, but couldn't really concentrate.

"Let me do your hair then," Missandei suggested. It usually had a calming effect on her.

Daenerys just nodded.

"What exactly happened out there?" Missandei asked almost in a whisper.

It took a long time until Daenerys answered. "It was… horrible… incomprehensible. The wights swarmed Drogon, covering his whole body. He flew off, trying to get rid of them. I thought I would die. But then Jorah came out of nowhere and killed them. It didn't stop. He didn't stop. And then suddenly it was all over. Just like that. And then Jorah..." She looked over towards him, making sure he was still breathing.

"He will make it. I am sure of it," Missandei said, trying to sound more convincing than she actually felt.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but if Arya had killed the Night King a bit earlier…"

"Maybe you should see it the other way around. A moment later and you both might-"

Daenerys raised her hand to stop Missandei from finishing the sentence. "You are right. I should be grateful. As long as he survives."

Missandei quietly continued to braid her hair. After a while Daenerys fell asleep after all, but only to be woken a short time later by Tyrion, who informed them that the meeting was about to start.


The meeting had been going on for a while. They were arguing back and forth about how to proceed.

Daenerys was struggling to keep her thoughts on the task at hand. She was tired and her thoughts were with Jorah and her armies. The numbers of their armies' losses were devastating. She had seen the fires go out when her Dothraki had charged at the wights, but she had hoped… she didn't know what she had hoped for. A miracle maybe. Could she ask them to keep fighting? Would they stand a chance? Tyrion didn't want her to use her dragons, because then everybody would associate her with her father. But was it fair to sacrifice her armies in order to avoid being compared with her father? Should she wait until the wounded had recovered? Daenerys feared she wouldn't be able to rally the Northern armies around her again. And walking towards King's Landing without the Northern armies would indeed look like a foreign invasion. She needed at least some of Westeros on her side.

"She doesn't care about the North," Sansa said. "She will never give us our independence, even though we have earned it more than any of the other Kingdoms."

"How can you say she doesn't care about the North?" Jorah asked from the entrance.