I Don't Own Game of Thrones, the Song of Ice and Fire or any of their Characters

Daenerys

She was back in the house of hell. Lying on the bed that had been

Suddenly, she could smell smoke. People were screaming and running down the halls. The man shoved her in a closet and locked it. She's alone. Left for dead. But she didn't want to die. She screamed for help. Begging for anyone to rescue her. But the smoke becomes too thick and soon enough, she's having difficulty breathing.

In the distance, she heard glass breaking. The heat from the fire must have shattered a window.

She looked up and amidst all of the smoke, she saw them...blue eyes. Jorah...

Daenerys's eyes snapped open and she sat up with a loud gasp of shock. A quick glance at her phone told her that it was still late. Not even five. That's right. It was Sunday. It takes a while for her to get her breathing back to normal. She remembered now. The night she was taken to that house. The fire. For years she couldn't place how she had managed to get out. She'd been so dizzy from all of the smoke she didn't even remember much after being stuffed in the closet. It was all fuzzy after that.

It was Jorah Mormont who saved her that night. He somehow climbed to the second story of the house, went into the fire, found her in the closet, and got her outside. He saved her.

Why hasn't he said anything though? He's made it a point to let her know that he's attracted to her. Surly telling her that he was her hero would have been a great way to win her over.

Mind made up, she threw off her blankets and hopped off the bed. It couldn't be that much later than five a.m. But she didn't care. She needed answers. She wanted Jorah to look her in the eyes and tell her the truth.

The hallway was pitch black it was so dark. She blindly felt around as she turned the corner, passed his study to his room. She knocked on his door; hopefully loud enough for him to hear but not to wake up Davos downstairs. She waited a couple of seconds before rapping again.

She pressed her ear against the door, listening. She heard a groan and some shuffling before she heard the thump of his feet on the carpeted floor. Pulling away as the steps got closer, she waited patiently.

There was a yawn followed by a tired voice, "Davos?"

Daenerys straightened her back, "No, it's me."

"Oh," When the door opened, she was taken aback by a sleepy-eyed Jorah Mormont...who was also shirtless. The upper part of his chest had a gentle patch of hair; the same shade as the strands on his head. She knew already that he must've kept in shape. But she had no inkling of how well sculpted he really was. That small peak of his collarbone she'd caught before was nothing compared to the artwork of his entire upper body unveiled to her eyes. Nicely toned muscles adorned his torso; starting from his shoulders and his arms down to the sixpack of his abdomen where the v-line disappeared into his lounge pants that hung low...enough for her to tell that there was underwear beneath them.

She let out a small squeak of surprise and quickly turned her back. "I'm sorry!"

He made a confused grunt, "What's wrong?"

"I...er…" What was she doing here again? She didn't expect to be caught off guard like that. Off guard...fire...the fire! Slowly, she turned back to face him. "I need to talk to you."

"Now?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Two parts of her brain were arguing with her. One said to turn back around because she was getting distracted with his physic while the other told her to it was important to look him in the eye during an interrogation. Shirtless or not.

Her back straightened, "Yes, now."

He stepped to the side and she brisked passed him. Immediately berating herself for not suggesting they do it...anywhere else. His study? The hallway? Of course not! She picked his bedroom. Very dangerous territory.

A quick glance around the room helped her be more aware of her surroundings. The walls were painted light grey; covered with framed pictures and certificates. From the left, she could see a door that must lead to a walk-in closet. French doors leading out to a balcony facing the east. Then there was the huge four-poster king-sized bed that stood in the middle of the room next to the wall.

The door shut and she turned to see Jorah rubbing the back of his neck. His face fixed with worry. "Darling, is everything alright?"

"I want the truth," She said with the straightest face she could muster. "Here and now."

He blinked, confused. "Of course, Daenerys. I would never lie to you."

"Then tell me this." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Again, I need your absolute honesty. Where you there the night of the fire?" His eyes widened and his whole body turned stiff. But he didn't answer. "Were you?"

He ground his jaw while he kept his eyes from meeting hers. "I was."

She crossed her arms, "Was it you then? Were you the one that got me out? I dreamed about that night for the first time in years. I could vaguely recall it because it's always come into me in flashes. With many missing fragments. But for the first time, I can remember one man from that night. The one who actually found me in the closet and brought me out to freedom. Was that man you?"

He let out a loud sigh as his shoulders sagged in defeat, "Yes. It was me."

"How long?" Pressure began to build behind her eyes as she held back tears. "How long have you known that I was the girl from that night?"

"Not too long," He said calmly, "It was a little over a week before we met at the cafe."

She gaped at him, "It was long enough!"

"Daenerys, luv―"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded, impatient. "I've been living under your roof for nearly two weeks. There were plenty of opportunities for you to come clean!"

"And how would you have reacted?" He challenged. "To know that the man you were sharing a roof with was the same man who got you out? Would you have come with me willingly?"

She rolled her eyes to keep more tears from falling, "I let out my heart to you about what happened. What it did to me. And all this time you already knew about all of it!"

"I wanted you to trust me." He implored, holding his hands out in surrender. "So you would feel safe around me. And that you knew none of it changed how I felt about you. How I still feel."

"And you expect me to trust you now?" A teardrop escaped from her eye as she tried to keep her voice from trembling. She was losing her resolve. "I haven't told anyone else about what happened. Only you. But you already knew everything. You lied to me!"

That made him hold his finger up in warning, "Now, let me stop you there. I never lied to you."

She threw her hands up, frustrated. "Lies, half truths, they're the same thing!"

"Are they?" He asked, his tone gentle again. "I've never denied how I felt about you from the beginning. Yes, I remembered you from that night after I saw a photograph from your childhood at your house. It was your eyes that I recognized. I didn't really get a close look at you back then because of all the fire and smoke. After I got you out, you were take away by paramedics." While he'd been talking he'd slowly closed the space she'd made between them. Slowly, he lifted his hand so he could rest it on my cheek. His thumb wiped the tears that were now running freely down my face. "But the lilac orbs that stared up at me that night seared themselves into my brain. Forever to remain. Years passed and I never saw you again. Until Viseerys made his deal. Then there they were. Those same eyes looking back at me from the face, not of a child, but of a young woman. And a beautiful one at that."

"Ever the flatterer," She sniffled with a laugh. "Hard to believe there is no Mrs. Mormont."

A shadow flickered over his eyes. "There was. Once."

"I'm sorry," Ashamed of her ignorance, Daenerys placed her hand on his wrist. "That's none of my business."

Instead of agreeing with her, he surprised her by leaning forward and encased her lips with his. The hand that held her check slid down to grasp the back of her neck and pull her closer. She felt lost in the feeling of his lips. Almost unsure of what to do given her little experience. She closed her eyes and let her lips move with his while her hands had somehow managed to rest on his chest. Allowing her body to speak for her, when his other hand rested on the small of her back to pull her closer, she let fingers spread wide over his pecs.

She pulled away so she could catch her breath, panting while her heyes stayed closed. His lips didn't stray from her skin. Instead, they made their way to her cheek. She basked in his warmth and let him rest her chin on the base of his neck. Sighing in blis as she slid her hands around his chest and up his back to take hold of his taunt shoulders.

He hissed when her fingers brushed at the top of the scapula. Her eyes snapped open and she then noticed the small bandage that stuck to his shoulder. And from the looks of it, it was bleeding again. "Jorah, what on earth?"

His arms slipped from her body and he craned his neck to see what she was looking at. Once he saw the bandage he snorted, "Oh that? It's nothing, luv. A suspect got a little rough, that's all. Don't worry, I got him back."

She resisted when he tried to pull her to him again. "It's not nothing if it's bleeding again."

While she was talking, his arms slid down and took hold of her waist. His nose brushing the side of her neck. "It's only a scrape. Leave it. Besides," His voice lowered even more, "Besides I'd much rather resume this." Fighting the urge to give in, she pushed harder until finally gave in with a groan of disappointment. "I guess it can't be helped."

"No it can't." He sat on the bed and she looked around the room. "Do you have any more bandages?"

He pointed towards the bathroom. "Under the sink."

She followed his direction and found a medical kist right where he said. Taking it out, she unzipped it and examined its contents. Satisfied, she left the bathroom to rejoin him. She took off the old bandage and discarded it. Then she took a rubbing alcohol pad and started gently patting the scrape.

"Do you want to know what happened?" He offered.

She paused, "Only if you want to."

He smirked, "I don't mind."

The words came out before she could stop them. "Did you love her?" They both stiffened. Good going, Dany! She scolded herself. What right did she have to ask that? It wasn't any of her business!

Her mental tirade was interrupted by his calm voice. "No, I didn't."

"I'm sorry." She said again. As if it would make things better.

He gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't be. It was a long time ago. And it wasn't my choice."

She blinked, "It was arranged?" He dipped his chin. "How old fashioned."

He chuckled, "Again, not my choice. It was arranged between our parents when we were children. Her name's Marsali. Last I heard, she's living somewhere in Australia."

Once the scrape was clean, she took out a new bandage, "How long were the two of you married?"

A shoulder shrugged, "Couldn't have been any more than three years. It just didn't work out between us. The split was mutual and amicable."

For some reason, she felt a twinge of envy. "Are the two of you still in touch?"

He shook his head, "No. We haven't spoken since the divorce. Saw no reason to as we both wanted to move on. And that was seventeen years ago."

She shuddered, "Goodness, I was still a teenager back then."

The corner of his mouth quirked, "Yes?"

She shrugged, "It just reminds me a little that I'm a lot younger than you."

That made him frown, "Is that a problem?"

"It just," how could she word this properly? "It makes me feel like you see me as naive. Childish. When, at the time you were divorcing from your first wife, I was still in Grade 10."

"You're not in Grade 10 now." He said with an obvious tone. "You're a thirty-year-old woman. Who is most certainly not naive."

"You can say that again." She placed the adhesive on his scrape and then pulled back. His eyes followed her when she went back into the bathroom before returning again. But she was surprised to see him standing up. The sunlight had begun to rise and the room was giving that morning glow. And it bounded off him with a beautiful luminescence.

He stepped toward her. "Danerys, this doesn't change anything."

She looked up at him once he was in front of her. "Jorah, I―"

"My wife is my past. As is what happened to you. I knew already at that moment in the cafe you hadn't let it define you." He smiled encouragingly. "You've suffered so much and yet you still stand tall."

"You don't know the half of it." She admitted.

"You know you can tell me anything, Daenerys." He urged. His hand stroking her hair. "There's nothing that would change my opinion of you."

"This might," She sighed, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes. "It would be easier to show you."

He got up to his feet, pulling her with him. Only one word on his lips, "Where?"

She didn't blink. "Highgate Cemetery."

The drive wasn't long but it might as well have been. The tension in the car was so thick that Daenerys feared she might suffocate. The weight on her chest was the same as that of an elephant. It was becoming rather clear to her that she might not survive the trip.

Back at the house, they'd separated to wash and get dressed. It was after eight when they finally left. She was worried that at any moment that she'll change her mind and demand that he turn back and forget about it.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a large hand took hold of hers. Jorah squeezed it gently, "Gently," He brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Keeping it there, he said, "It will be alright, Daenerys."

She shook her head. "You don't know that. In about five minutes, you'll eat those words."

"Do you truly have such little faith in me?" He sounded hurt and it broke her heart.

"I've never told a single person. Viserys doesn't even know about it." She whispered. "What you're about to see may change your view of me completely."

"I doubt that." He insisted. "After everything you've shared with me, I don't think anything could frighten me away from you now."

They continued to drive when she finally noticed the narrow street. Not too far now.

She sighed, hopeless as the gates became visible, "A single grain of rice can tip the scales." She quoted.

He rubbed his lips against her fingers and parked the car, "One man may be the difference between victory and defeat." He finished. He let go of her hand, got out of the car first and ran to her side to open the passenger door. "I don't intend to let you be defeated." He held his hand out to her.

She stared at it for a moment, contemplating. Was this really wise? This man had done so much for her in the little time they'd known each other. She felt selfish because she didn't want to lose what they had. But she couldn't stand the unknown either. Even now, he waited patiently while she faced her internal battle.

Finally, after going back and forth in her head, she placed her hand in his. He pulled her out of the car and interlaced their fingers. "Lead the way," He said.

She took a deep breath and led him into the west cemetery. They walked hand-in-hand down the many paths leading to the destination. It was obviously clear to him at this point that she was taking him to a grave. He just didn't know who's.

A long forest path came into view and the more trees there were, she knew they were getting close. She only came here once a year. The entire walk was memorized into her soul. She could be both vision and hearing impaired, she would still be able to find her way through this cemetery.

"Here," She said, stopping them at a tree. "He's here."

"Who?" Jorah asked softly.

She got down to her knees, in front of a stone marker. It was covered in dirt and some vines that stretched from the tree down to the ground. She wiped it away with her bare hands, clearing it so the name engraved became visible. Once it was free of the forest debris, the name was revealed to their eyes.

Rhaego Targaryan.

April 12, 2006

Beloved son who returned to the Gods before birth, yet his memory will always be loved and cherished.

"I was left with more than emotional scars from the night of the fire." She explained. "The night I was raped, I conceived a child. A boy." She ran her fingers over his name. "I was so terrified. Fifteen-years-old, recently orphaned and now pregnant. I didn't realize it until a month later. I must have taken three at-home pregnancy tests. All positive."

She felt him kneel beside her, his hand resting gently on her back. "What did you do?"

She cleared her throat, keeping the tears at bay. "I started preparing for an open adoption." Turning to face him, she shrugged. "I knew that there was not enough money left from my father to support Viserys, myself and the baby. I could have gotten a job, of course. But I knew that there was no way that I could have raised him with us. This way, he would get what he needed. A home, food, and parents that could actually take care of him. As it would've been an open adoption, I would still be able to see him. I couldn't be the mother he needed, but that didn't mean I couldn't still be in his life. The only thing I wanted to do for him as his mother was name him."

"After your eldest brother," He concluded.

She nodded slightly, "He's the closest thing to a parent that I'd ever had growing up. I wanted to honor his memory by naming his nephew after him."

He looked at the stone and asked gently, "What happened?"

"I kept the pregnancy a secret. Wore heavy clothes and ponchos all the time. Even when it was warm out. Not even my peers at school knew I was expecting. Her eyes went back to the stone. "I was sixteen weeks into the pregnancy. Something happened, I don't know what. All of a sudden I was in severe pain and couldn't walk. Some passerby saw me on the ground and called an ambulance. The pain was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It was so bad that I actually passed out. When I came to, I was alone in a hospital bed. My child was gone."

"You went into labor." It wasn't a question.

"I did." She confirmed. "But...he was stillborn."

"Daenerys…"

Tears blurred her vision as the memories of that day came flooding in. "I asked the nurse for him, but she told me that he had been horribly deformed and fell apart in the doctor's hands. And because I was a minor with no identification, they put in the order to have him cremated. I didn't even get to hold him!" She wiped the tears from her cheeks and met his eyes. "See? Now you know. Do you understand why I didn't want to tell you about this? You already knew that I was sold and raped that night. How could I tell you that I also got pregnant and lost the baby all within a year? My family already had a terrible reputation. I didn't want Rhaego to be remembered like that." Jorah's hand stroked her back in a soothing circular motion as she spoke. "He didn't even get to live to see the light of day."

The hand that had been stroking her slid up to cradle the back of her neck and pull her towards him. He tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his other arm around her, holding her tight. "My gentle-hearted, Khaleesi."

She pulled back and looked at him, confused. "'Khaleesi?'"

His lips quirked upward, "There was a race called the Dothraki. Nomadic horse-mounted warriors. They traveled in different tribes called khalasar. Led by their Khal, or king, with his bloodriders. His queen equivalent is called a Khaleesi. Depending on how she was revered, she could lead the khalasar in her own command. Should it not go against that of the Khal's. And being a respected Khaleesi was no easy task. They had to earn it. The Dothraki didn't follow birthrights. They followed in strength." He leaned in so they were nose-to-nose. "You, Daenerys have more than earned such a title. I've never met someone so strong-willed and determined. You've fought for yourself alone since you were only fifteen. Sold into slavery, you must have been so terrified. You suffered trial after trial and you still stand on your own feet. Not letting anything destroy your kind heart." He pressed his forehead against hers. "You are truly a miracle, Khaleesi."

She laughed through her tears, sniffling. "Are you always so good with your words, Sir?"

That made him chuckle as he kissed the tip of her nose and rubbed it with his. "Only when I'm with you."

He rested his cheek on top of her hair. Keeping her close. They sat there on the ground in front of Rhaego's stone for a long while. Just holding each other. Finally, he murmured, "You didn't tell anyone about your son because you feared that you would be misunderstood. But, Khaleesi, no one understands your pain more than I do."

She blinked. "How do you mean?"

"You remember how I told you about the arranged marriage I was pushed into when I was young? And that we divorced over unavoidable differences?" She nodded and he let out a harsh breath. "My wife went through two miscarriages before we had our son. But he was born prematurely at twenty-three weeks. She nearly died from blood loss."

She started sniffling all over again. "Oh, Jorah,"

He cleared his throat, obviously holding back his own tears. "He was so small he could fit in the palm of my hand. We both knew that his chances of survival were next to nonexistent. The technology back then wasn't as advanced as it is today. He held on for a few hours. I never left his side." He kissed her hair. "After he was gone and we scattered his ashes, my wife demanded a divorce. I didn't object. It was no love loss between us. We cared about each other as much as we could, given the circumstances. But this gave the break we needed to be free of one another. She didn't even want any alimony. We haven't seen or spoken to each other since." He reached down the front of his shirt and pulled out the silver cylinder pendant hanging from a leather cord around his neck. "I keep some of his ashes with me, always. This way, I feel that I can show him the world I couldn't show him in his short life. He's with me everywhere I go. He sees what I see, hears what I hear."

"I'm so sorry, Jorah." She murmured, holding the small thing with her fingers.

He held her tighter. "Now you see? I know exactly how you feel." His hand reached and touched the engraving of Rheago's name. "The loss of a child leaves a hole in your heart. One that can never be filled. You see life in an entirely different view."

"It's as if you weren't the same person." She said quietly, "What was his name?"

She heard him sniff and he kept his hold on her tight. "Lucious, because even though he wasn't on this earth for long, for that short time he was my light." He pressed his forehead to hers and looked deep into her eyes. "There isn't a day when I don't mourn my son. But I would relive it again because I was blessed to still have time with him. In the end, he freed Marsali and me. We didn't need to remain bound by duty to one another. We were finally allowed to live our own lives. It was about a year later when I saved you from the fire. It was my last case with sex crimes. After that, I put in a request to transfer to homicide. Years later and I find you again. In the end, everything led me back to you."

"Are you saying this is all somehow fate?" She couldn't help but ask.

He pulled away gently to run his nose across her forehead. "Fate or not, I don't regret ever meeting you, Khaleesi."

She permitted herself a small smile, leaning into his gentle touch. "Neither do I."