Chapter 15: Just a Fantasy

~o0o~

After he and Jaime had finished their beers and the Princess had texted him the address of the party, Jorah made a quick stop back at the Kensington Palace apartments to change into a suit. He chose his favorite one, a dark midnight blue one that contrasted nicely with his light eyes. After he buttoned up his crisp white shirt (leaving a few of the top buttons undone to not appear too stuffy), he slipped his dark leather holster over his shoulders and entered the code on his safe in his office for his handgun. With his suit jacket on, no one would be able to see he was carrying.

It had been a long while since he had carried a gun out in the city. He practiced at the range regularly with Jaime and Grey, but only to keep himself in top form for rare instances like tonight – he would be all too happy to never have to fire a weapon again after his days in the military. But even if he removed himself from it entirely, the mindset would never really leave him. He had seen so many horrors and those were nothing compared to Rhaegar making the ultimate sacrifice and Jaime losing his arm.

And he was the Princesses' only lifeline for the night, which he took incredibly seriously. A large party was not an easy situation to control, especially with his growing personal feelings for her thrown into the mix.

He looked at himself in the mirror, hoping he wouldn't appear too out of place. He didn't have a clue what this type of gathering entailed. But if he was being truly honest with himself, all he really cared about was how the Princess thought he looked.

Jorah passed by Lyanna, laden with Chinese takeout, who was headed into her apartments as he was headed out. She was quick to assure him that the Princess had invited her to the party, but she would rather stay in and watch true crime documentaries. As he wished her a nice evening and headed towards Daario's old motorbike (otherwise known as his new motorbike) that he kept parked in the courtyard, Jorah felt a pang of sadness wash over him. He remembered that when Rhaegar and Lyanna wanted a simple night together, Jorah would order them in Chinese and they would watch their crime shows together. That was a true love if he ever saw it. He could only hope that he would find what the Prince and Lyanna had one day – even if it was as short-lived.

The party was at the Victoria and Albert museum, just a short ride down from the palace. Showing his credentials, Jorah was able to park his bike right out front of the staggeringly beautiful front visage of the museum, all lit up for the party within, the front stairs completely packed with paparazzi and arriving guests.

Jorah knew next to nothing about fashion, preferring custom British tailors for his suits, but even he knew who Stella McCartney was. This was a big deal, surely, and he felt a twinge of pride for Sansa. Co-hosting a fashion week party was impressive, but one at this level was quite astonishing.

Another quick flash of his authorization and he was let into the party without question, ahead of the line of dozens of others waiting patiently to be checked off the guest list. Once inside, he noticed some of the museum roped off, making a pathway for the guests through the sculpture gallery and out to the boxed-in courtyard. There was a DJ under the large Chihuly glass sculpture and a number of bars sprinkled throughout. There were so many distractions, but his first priority was to check-in with the Princess. He pulled out his mobile to message her.

Jorah: Just walked in. Where are you?

He saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye as he waited for Daenerys' reply. A longer glance confirmed that Sansa was across the entrance hall from him, greeting people with air kisses alongside the infamous Stella. Sansa towered over her co-host and her sky-high heels made the height difference even greater. Jorah couldn't help but indulge himself looking over her lithe body in a shimmering navy gown – as if she had planned to match him.

Khaleesi: Just arrived as well. I'm outside, near the water.

Her text snapped him back into reality, and Jorah headed through the sculpture gallery and out into the night. The courtyard was lit up with fairy-lights strung between the old, red brick buildings of the museum and they beautifully illuminated the shallow, circular pool in the middle of the grass.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for him to pick out the Princess. His eyes were used to always looking for her in any room as of late, but tonight she looked so radiant that it was if there was a spotlight shining on her.

She was surrounded by a group of people Jorah didn't recognize, and who were clearly very enamored at being in her presence, which was understandable. Her platinum hair was braided intricately down her back and she wore a strapless, pale blue gown with a full skirt that made her look like the living embodiment of a Princess from a Disney film. It had a little bit of a train that trailed delicately behind her and her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight as she talked politely with her companions.

It took Jorah's breath away, seeing her. He always had thought her beautiful, but tonight he had a hard time fathoming that she was even real. A sobering thought hit him - she was far too out of his league.

"Princess, could I borrow you for a second?" Jorah walked towards her and smiled apologetically at the group. They obliged and a few of them curtseyed before they walked away. The look in Daenerys' eyes showed how thankful she was for the save.

"I'm glad you are here…people keep propositioning me to post their ridiculous KickStarter ideas on the official Royal Instagram," she laughed at the thought of it and Jorah offered his arm and led her to a quieter spot near a hedge of rose bushes. "Let's get you a drink…"

"No drinking on duty, I'm afraid," Jorah said aloud to mostly remind himself. He would love to sit with her under the stars and keep her company for the evening, but he wasn't her date. He was simply the security.

"I heard about the Commonwealth Tour…my father called me earlier." Daenerys smiled up at Jorah and he had to look away and pretend to be surveying the crowd in order not to get too flustered. Her half-blue, half-violet eyes were arresting and he could easily get swept up in them and give himself away.

"I'm working on the plans and they should be done in the next few days. The King did tell you he wants us to leave next week, didn't he?"

"Yes, after my date with Robb." No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hide the sudden distance in her voice when she said his name. Although he knew it was wrong, Jorah derived a bit of pleasure out of the tone of her voice, hoping she wasn't smitten with the young Stark after all. He still needed to plan that date as well, much to his chagrin.

"I'm going to see if we can get your friend Missy to come along. You'll be a bit bored with just myself, Grey, and Captain Lannister, I'm sure…" Jorah said, and the Princess smiled at the thought.

"She's with Grey right now, which is why you are here…" she bit her lip as she leaned closer to him and whispered the gossip, almost conspiratorially. She was starting to feel as if she was just as excited at Grey and Missy's newly blossoming relationship as they were.

Jorah smirked. Everyone was lucky in love but him. And here he was, standing in front of arguably the most important woman in all of Britain, completely besotted and having no chance in hell with her. "Message me if you need anything, but I'll be close by. I need to do a perimeter check and you need to enjoy this party. You are wasting your opportunities to talk about clothes and fashion and all that with the like-minded. All of that is completely lost on me."

The Princess laughed, genuinely, and it made his heart jump as he nodded to her and took off to make sure the party was secure.

~o0o~

"All of these years and I thought I knew so much about you, but it's becoming clear I know next to nothing," Grey admitted to Missy as they walked along the Thames together, down by the Tower of London. They had dinner and drinks at a pub and hadn't wanted the night to end, so Grey had suggested a walk. After talking non-stop for hours, both of them were reveling in the intimacy of getting to know one another alone, outside of their previously peripheral relationship.

"But you do know things that only someone really close to me would know. Like that I snore – from all of those nights outside of Daenerys' and mine's dorm room. Practically all of my food preferences. And that I twirl my curls in between my fingers when I'm nervous…" Missy recounts.

"Which you are doing right now."

"Maybe I am a bit nervous. It isn't every day you get to actually go on a date with a man you've had a crush on for four years," she shrugs, blushing, and reaches for his hand. They both smile when he envelops her smaller hand in his larger, warm one.

"I know exactly how you feel." He laughs and turns to look at her full lips and her gorgeous honeyed skin and dark eyes. He's nervous as well – he's been waiting a long while for this moment and he doesn't want to screw it up.

Missy stops and pulls him closer, taking his other hand. "Grey, you saw me. Really saw me for who I was, and who I am. You've never treated me as just the Princesses' friend. Or cared less about my well-being because I'm not the one you are assigned to protect. And I'm thankful for that."

"Working for the Princess has been an honor. She's a good friend to me, and to you. But the real highlight of my work has been knowing that I get to spend time around you. I'll never take for granted anything that led me to this moment." Grey said honestly. He took a step forward and closed the distance between them, gently reaching his hand around her to cradle the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss.

~o0o~

After walking around the party, checking the exits and keeping an eye out for anyone who looked even remotely suspicious, Jorah felt it was time to return back to the Princess and check on her.

He felt his mobile vibrate in his jacket pocket and fished it out, smiling to himself when he saw who had messaged him.

Khaleesi: Where are you?

Jorah looked around to find a marker for her. He was standing right near the entrance to the part of the museum dedicated to fashion throughout history, placed in chronological order within a rotunda. He messaged her the location, thinking it might be a nice bit of the museum to explore together. There weren't too many people and it was quieter, away from the thumping music of the main foyer.

"Jorah… you've been playing hard to get…"

He turned around to see Sansa stalking towards him, moving her body slowly as she crossed the hallway to him, knowing exactly what she was doing with her hips in that dress. He swallowed hard.

"I've been working. I'm here for the Princess tonight."

"I just saw her not too long ago. She looks perfectly happy, and I'm in need of a date…" Sansa smiled when she reached him. With her heels on they were nearly eye-level with one another.

"I have to say, Sansa, that this is pretty incredible," he told her sincerely, looking around at the party and all of the work she has done to pull it off. "I'm proud of you."

He was surprised when his comment seemed to catch her off-guard for the slightest of moments. She blushed and then quickly tried to regain her cool, confident demeanor that she always embodied. "Thank you. But as much as I am glad to hear you are proud of me, I'd much rather have you inside of me."

Jorah coughed, Gods was she bold. "Sansa…"

"We've been dancing around this and I'm not going to take no for an answer," Sansa whispered it with her red lips against his ear and it took every ounce of his self-control to remain composed.

"Sansa, I need to watch the Princess and make sure she gets home in one piece," he reiterated. He wasn't sure if he could keep saying 'no' to her. Every man had a breaking point and she was pushing him dangerously close to his.

"Then get her home. She doesn't dictate what you do after she goes to bed, does she?"

Jorah sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. As much as part of him wanted to leave this party with her, he also knew he needed to talk to her about the Tour. Hopefully a few weeks away from one another would be a good thing, "I need to talk to you about something…"

~o0o~

Daenerys grabbed another glass of champagne as one of the waiters came by with dozens of bubbly flutes on a tray. She had been looking for Jorah but then ran into the woman of the hour and started talking to Stella about wearing some of her designs on the Commonwealth Tour. It was too short-notice for something custom, but the quintessentially British fashion maven promised the Princess that she would put some looks together for her.

She felt her phone buzz from within her black clutch and excused herself from the conversation.

Jorah: I'm over by the history of fashion room. Meet me there?

Daenerys knew exactly where he was – it was one of her favorite parts of the V&A and she carefully picked her way through the crowd with her champagne in hand, which wasn't an easy thing to do once people recognized her and started falling over themselves to curtsey. With a room full of overly-served socialites, curtseys appeared less than graceful.

But all Daenerys had on her mind was seeing Jorah again. Maybe she had built it up a little too much in her mind, but when he had shown up out in the courtyard, looking like James Bond in his suit, she had thought he had looked at her differently. The way his eyes had slowly grazed over her in her dress made her stomach flip, and not unpleasantly. She knew he had a job to do, but part of her had wished he could just accompany her tonight as her date. It was ridiculous, she knew that, but her ridiculous crush on him was growing by the day.

Surely I imagined the way he was looking at me…She reasoned with herself. She should never feel this way about her private secretary, but here she was, thinking of him all the time and the moment she had found out that he would be joining her on the Commonwealth Tour, her imagination had run wild over all the opportunities she would have to spend time with him. Alone. Away from forced dates with Robb Stark, who was nice, but certainly hadn't captured her attention in the way Captain Mormont had done, slowly over the last few weeks and then suddenly all at once when she found herself waking up from sleeping on his chest.

The crowd thinned as she walked away from the bars and music and towards the exhibits. Then she saw him, his body angled away from her and he was with someone.

He was with Sansa Stark.

And she had her blood-red nails against the stubble on his cheeks.

She had her body pressed against his and had her head tilted to kiss him.

Daenerys dropped her champagne glass. It fell right out of her hand and crashed onto the floor and broke apart like all of the built-up the notions she had in her head of her and Jorah.

He had texted her to meet him. Why would he do this? Nothing made sense in her racing mind.

Jorah heard the crash of glass breaking. He turned away from Sansa and his eyes locked with hers for a moment. She saw confusion and guilt mar his face. But she didn't want to stand around and see any more or hear any explanation.

He doesn't owe you one. He isn't yours. She repeated in her head like a mantra, trying to remind herself of the clear difference in reality and fantasy. She had already embarrassed herself by dropping the glass and she didn't want to cause a scene.

Chin up, that's a girl.

Rhaegar had always said that to her when something went wrong. Daenerys repeated her brother's words to herself, held her head up, and turned around to head back towards the party.