A/N: Prompt: Compliment.

01x04, 'Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things'

Home.

The word echoes between them, a hope, a dream, a one-word oath which will bind them together for the rest of time though right now, with the whole future sprawling and unknown in front of her, Daenerys has no idea.

"If not for Viserys, how will we get home?" she asks. It's a question she knows Ser Jorah can't have the answer to, but it's one she asks nevertheless, for in the short time she has known him, she has started to look to him for reassurance and comfort at every turn.

"I don't know, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah admits honestly. "Mayhaps Viserys will get Khal Drogo's army across the Narrow Sea. Mayhaps he will take his throne back from the Usurper. Or perhaps someone else will lead us."

"Who?" she persists. There is no one else. Her brother, whilst almost intolerable, is the rightful king.

Ser Jorah's lip curls just slightly. "Viserys has a sister, does he not?"

When his words register, she frowns at him. "Now you're japing."

"I am not," he says. "You are the opposite of your brother. The Dothraki like you. You've grown to command respect. I'd wager that you'd make a much better queen than Viserys would king."

"He'll have your head if he hears you," she hisses, peering round him to ensure there's no one eavesdropping at the mouth of the tent.

"Aye, likely he will," Ser Jorah allows, but he doesn't sound concerned. He gives a bow now. "Goodnight, Khaleesi."

He leaves her then, the flaps of the tent swishing just slightly as if they're sighing on a secret, and despite everything, Daenerys smiles.