07x07, 'The Dragon and the Wolf'

Daenerys Targaryen is travelling north with Jon Snow.

Jorah commands the Dothraki.

Daenerys wanted him absent. She didn't want to face him when she took Jon Snow into her bed. Didn't want to face his disappointment and pain in the rosy hues of a happy union.

His disappointment is his own fault. How stupid he's been. How selfish.

Because in the deepest part of himself, he'd seen a battle of sorts. A clash between himself and Jon Snow. Daenerys caught in the middle, teetering on the edge, as likely to fall one way as the other. The way she'd embraced him on the cliffs, the way she'd looked at him on the beach before their fateful voyage beyond the Wall, he'd held a small, flickering hope that perhaps somewhere she was beginning to realise that there could be more between them than what they'd had so far.

Tyrion had given him the subtle warning, and is proven right. How can a bear compete with a wolf? How can an exile compete with a king?

Jorah rides each day with a heavy heart. The Dothraki mutter, amused by his surliness. Missandei and Grey Worm offer him sympathetic looks. It humiliates him to know that they understand his melancholy. He has no right to Daenerys. He's always known this. And yet his heart persists in its yearning. It will never stop him serving her, or doing whatever he can for her end goal. But it doesn't ease his suffering.

His imagination is too fertile. In the day, he does his best to distract his thoughts by applying himself to the marshalling of the troops he's been entrusted with. But at night, he can't help but think on Daenerys, running her hands over Jon Snow's chest, writhing beneath his touch, kissing him with hungry fervour as she commands more from him…

It's an exquisite agony he's going to have to learn to live with. Because, he knows, this is just the beginning of their reign.

The dragon and the wolf will be a formidable match, the mating of fire and ice.

Eternal lovers.