04x05, 'First of His Name'
Astapor overthrown. Yunkai back in chains. All of her hard work undone.
Westeros will have to wait. She'd rather it didn't have to. But she can't leave these people behind. She would never be able to live with herself knowing that she had abandoned them to their fates.
There's a soft knock on her door.
"Come in," she calls.
It's Jorah who enters. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Why would I not be?"
He gives her a look.
There's little point in pretending otherwise with him. "There's a lot to adjust to, that's all."
"I know. But you're doing better than you think. Give it time. You'll find your feet."
"I need to find them quickly. I've already made mistakes."
"And you'll make many more. Do you believe any of your ancestors ruled without making mistakes? No. Even the greatest amongst them."
He's trying to be reassuring and she's grateful for it, but to her horror she feels tears welling in her eyes. She turns away, but a hand lands on her shoulder.
"Khaleesi, what is it?" Jorah asks softly. He doesn't push for more.
He is her best friend, the one person she can be more than just a queen with.
"I've been thinking about them," she whispers, "Drogo and Rhaego. About those mistakes that have got me here." Letting the witch near Drogo. Trusting her to save him. Killing them both in the process.
"You can't blame that on yourself," says Jorah. "What happened was a tragic accident. No one could have known."
Everyone had seen it, apart from her. Blinded by love. Too arrogant to assume that the lamb woman would have anything but gratitude for her.
"I miss them," she allows herself to whisper. Drogo, of course, but Rhaego even more so; the son she should have held in her arms. The Khal of Khals.
The son she would have loved more than anything in this world.
"I know you do," Jorah says quietly.
She realises that this is the first time she's allowed herself to mourn for her husband and son. The human cost of her crown.
In the Red Waste it had been too painful. It had been easier to bury those feelings in the earth with her babe. The mysteries of Qarth had expended all of her energy. Her wrath had been focused on getting an army. Always moving forward.
But now she is in one place, and it's giving her too much time to reflect.
What would she trade to have Rhaego?
Anything.
But she has dealt in blood magic before. Never again.
Drogo, ashes on the wind. Rhaego, dust in the Dothraki Sea. She, reborn from the ruins, rising like the dragon.
Jorah nods to her chamber.
"Try and rest," he says. "And if you need anything—anything at all—let me know. I'll be right outside the door."
"It's not your guard duty," she points out.
"I know," he says.
He'll do it anyway.