A/N: Prompt: Falter.
01x03, 'Lord Snow'
He sees the boys about butchering a goat for Daenerys' supper before he saddles his horse.
He's busy ensuring that he has enough provisions to last him on his journey to Qohor when he hears a soft voice behind him.
His blood runs cold.
Her voice.
"Khaleesi, what are you doing out here?" he says evenly, tightening the bridle.
"I needed some air," she confesses. "I feel a little sick."
"Sip some water," he advises her.
Daenerys remains silent, watching him work. He tries to ignore her presence, all too aware of the weight of his betrayal.
"Irri says you're leaving." Her voice is small. A child's.
He doesn't look at her. "Aye."
"Please don't go."
That plaintive note almost breaks him. If he turns, it will. His fingers falter over the sack as he attaches his provisions.
He doesn't turn.
"I must, Khaleesi. A few days is all."
"You're my only friend."
"That's not true. You have your handmaidens."
"But they don't understand me. No one does, only you."
Guilt stabs low at his gut, worse than any blade he's taken before.
Home, he tells himself. If you do this, you can go home. It's only information. They've not asked you to slit her throat.
He swings himself onto his mount and takes hold of the reins.
"Don't worry, Princess," he says. "Go and get your supper. Get some rest. You've got to take care of yourself now that you're with child. I will return to you soon. You can tell me about what I've missed with the horde and I'll tell you any tales I have."
The idea of news outside the Dothraki brightens Daenerys enough to nod. He wheels his horse around, mapping his path through the crackling fires that burn outside so many of the tents.
"Stay safe," Daenerys says.
"You too, Khaleesi," he returns, the words ash in his mouth with the dishonour of what he's about to do. His betrayal.
He hesitates for a moment more before digging his heels into the horse's side, departing at a canter, leaving Daenerys behind in the dust.