A/N: Thanks for reading my story. Perhaps some of you will recognize the title or the plot of this story. For those who don't: this story is inspired by the Star Trek: Voyager episode "Blood Fever". I wrote this story a while back, when it was still relevant. In the meantime, lots of other stuff has happened on the show. Still, I liked it enough to post it even now. Hope you will enjoy it! -PP
The coy smile on her lips contrasting with the naughty look in her eyes. Silver blond waves of hair danced around her head and shoulders, down her back to the place her royal blue dress parted to show off her naked backside.
Once more, Jorah Mormont found himself in the last place on planetos he wanted to be in, punishing himself by watching the abomination that downgraded his Khaleesi to a sex object, a lust-crazed whore.
It had been months since he had last seen the real mother of dragons and when he first saw that silver head again he found himself drinking in the sight, hungry for more after all those months roaming the world alone. The hunger he felt was different from that of the men currently placing their greasy hands on the impostor's body. Well, he would be lying if he didn't feel that kind of hunger for her too, but it was buried underneath layers of admiration, of respect, and of his undying love.
The whore was wandering around the establishment seductively, trying to find customers that would be able to afford her company at this hour of the day – it was somewhere late in the afternoon; customers with money usually had business to conduct at this time of day and wouldn't come up till later in the evening. Jorah kept watching her while he drank his mead. He wished he didn't have to stop here again, on the very isle of Lys, that held everything he despised. The people's indifference to world politics. The constant search for instant pleasure. The way they exploited and perverted true beauty.
But it was a necessary stop if he wanted to find her again. Having traveled all the way up to the Citadel to find the cure for his greyscale, he had started out to find his way back to her as soon as the last scales had fell off of his body. Problem was, he didn't know where she was, and she didn't know where he was. So he had mapped the most logical route she would take in her conquest to claim the Iron Throne and all of Westeros – and had started off in opposite direction, hoping they were working their way towards each other.
He had hoped to find her somewhere on the mainland of Westeros. Then, as he reached Dorne, he hoped to see her fleet of ships sailing towards him. But he hadn't, and so he continued on towards Lys, where he was now thinking he may he miscalculated her travel plans. Who knew what her other advisers would have suggested. She could have traveled over Essos' mainland and only set sail for Westeros when they reached Pentos to go straight for King's Landing. It would be folly, of course, but Jorah knew the Dothraki would prefer this plan to the original where they would have to sail all the way from the Gulf of Grief, across Valyria to Volantis, and from there to Lys and Dorne.
Not having heard any news of the Dragon Queen having set foot on Westeros during his travels on the continent, he decided to stick to his plan and travel all the way back to Meereen if needed. If he wouldn't have found her by then, he would come up with a new plan. Tomorrow he would leave Lys and sail further east.
He watched as the impostor turned around and came walking back in his direction. He looked at her now, her face only slightly resembling the face he loved so much. A little too late he realized he had kept eye contact for too long and he saw her smiling seductively at him. Even though he had broken eye-contact immediately, he could see her approaching him from the corner of his eye, her eyes dead-set on her target. This would be a situation he couldn't win; she would either be completely unable to entrance him as his queen had done and it would anger him further; or she would – and he would have let the isle of Lys pervert the one thing pure and beautiful that he carried with him.
Only seconds before she would have undoubtedly initiated a conversation, a man that had just entered, intercepted her course. He laughed out loud and grasped her arm to turn her to look at him.
"Well I'll be damned!" he called out in surprise. "If I had known you were prepared to go this far to get those ships, I would have stolen each and every one I could find for you!"
Jorah pricked up his ears. The woman smiled and tried to engage in his conversation, but it was clear she had no idea what he was talking about.
"Ooh, a bad boy..!" she purred. "Well, I won't be needing ships, but I would love a wealthy man like yourself to show me a good time!"
She giggled. The man seemed confused for a moment.
"You won't be needing ships anymore? Not even the ones I sold you this morning? Because I'm not taking them back…"
The woman wrapped her arms around the man.
"I think it was very smart of you to sell your ships. Ships sink… and ships can't buy you this…" she said as she peeled away the fabric that was covering her chest to reveal her tits. The man went speechless.
"You are one crazy wench, you know that. But I must say, I would take your kind of crazy over your father's any day!" he said and placed his arm firmly around her waist to pull her closer.
Jorah had heard enough to get his hopes up – the man spoke in such detail that it couldn't be a coincidence. He jumped up from his booth and neared the pair. The prostitute saw him coming.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, come visit me some other time."
Jorah didn't pay her any mind and shoved her away as gently as his anger would allow him. He turned to the man, who must have thought he was picking a fight over the whore. Jorah was at least four inches taller than the man and backed him into a corner.
"The woman you were talking about, the one you sold ships to – when did you see her?" Jorah asked. The man seemed confused and stared over Jorah's shoulder at the impostor.
"Not her" Jorah growled. "The Queen. When did you see her? Where?"
"This morning, she came to me at the harbor. She wanted to buy every ship I had, paid good money for them too, though I must say I did offer her great quality ships, worth every bit."
"Did she say where she was going?"
The man thought about it. Jorah grabbed his shirt in his fists.
"No! I mean, I overheard her talking to other merchants, she wanted to buy their ships as well. They seemed slightly more reluctant to take her money, but they agreed to discuss it further in private."
Jorah shook him firmly.
"Where did they go?"
"I don't know!" he cried out – it was causing the people around them to stare. Jorah released him a bit and the people no longer paid them any mind. The man continued.
"I did recognize one of the merchants as Tregarion, the owner of the most exclusive … pillow house in Lys. They might've gone there…"
Jorah released him as he thought about this. The man snuck away while Jorah was deep in thought. He knew where to find it, Irogenia's Pearl, and though he didn't know this Tregarion, he had known his father and the previous owner of the brothel. It had been the man that had stolen Lynesse away from him after all his troubles. Jorah was inclined to believe the son of a man like that couldn't be up to much good.
So without further ado, he paid his bill, grabbed his sword and climbed up through the city to find the Pearl.
As he neared it, he spotted several guards dressed as citizens, discreetly positioned throughout the establishment. While fewer of them covered the back and the balcony, they increased in number in the direction of a distant corner. Jorah was aware that his sword was drawing attention, but he couldn't risk leaving it outside.
Jorah stepped inside as casually as he could. The air was clouded with heavy perfumes and filled with incense, creating swirls of smoke all throughout the room. People dressed in the most expensive clothes were lying on divans and pillows on the floor, smoking water pipes, eating all kinds of sweets and fruits, while scarcely clothed women danced around and tended to their customers' every need. Everywhere Jorah looked there were women; exotic ones, pale skinned and freckled ones, slender or voluptuous, fierce or shy, short haired or long haired. But he had yet to spot his queen, which proved to be difficult through the mist the incense created and the thin, colored veils that hung from the room, creating the illusion of privacy.
Jorah worked his way through the room, careful not to disturb the despicable customers, so as not to draw any more attention to himself. As he searched for her, his mind wandered. If she really was here, would she even be glad to see him? Perhaps she had already said her definite goodbye to him in her mind, and would him showing up only make things more difficult. What use did she have for an old, twice exiled introvert like himself? Whereas he might still be a decent swordsman, the battles in Westeros were fought with words, and with politics, and with seductions. How was he of use to her there, if he wasn't even able to seduce the woman he had loved for over six years?
But then – suddenly – he heard the most beautiful sound known to him. Daenerys's laughter. He stopped and noticed her lounging in the distant corner, surrounded by cushions and pillows – and two men that must have been the merchants the man had mentioned.
Thankfully, she was only drinking what seemed to be tea, declining the offered water pipe. One never knew what had been put in it and once under influence, the Dragon Queen suddenly became very close to just being a girl all by herself. It struck him as strange that she had come here alone – but then again he knew how desperately she needed ships. Besides, no matter how despicable the men seemed to him, they appeared to be decent and friendly company to her.
Jorah made his way over to the wall, so he could discreetly watch the appointment without drawing attention to himself. He was quite sure she wouldn't be too thrilled if he were the cause of her deal falling through. He would keep an eye on her, making sure she was safe and then meet her afterwards.
As he stood there, he allowed himself to stare at her freely. She still looked as beautiful as she had before he left, only prettier, he thought to himself. Every day he had been away, he had missed her more, but the aching had dulled over time. Only to come back to him now full force upon seeing her again. He had been away far too long, he thought as he pictured her sailing across the ruins of her family's home without him.
But she seemed happy. Laughing genuinely as she tasted some offered sweets. He loved how she softly licked her fingers to clean them of the sweets' residue. He loved how she seemed relaxed while she determinedly talked business. He loved how she tried to get what she wanted by making friends, rather than enemies. He loved everything about her. It had been the last thing he had said to her before he left and she had cried, telling him that she needed him by her side. He briefly wondered how her feelings for him had been affected by their separation, while his had only increased every day since. But as he dwelled on it, he noticed one of the men scooting closer to Daenerys. He now lay down straight next to her, the small table no longer between them. Daenerys still smiled but tried to create some space between them anyway. The man teasingly tried to feed her another sweet, but she didn't want it. She frowned. The other man closed in at her other side. She looked alarmed and pushed herself to sit up straight, appearing dizzy and shaking her head.
It was enough for Jorah to storm in with his sword drawn. He walked straight up to where Daenerys was sitting, but noticed two guards coming at him from both sides. He fought them both off, all the while trying to keep an eye on Daenerys. The two men where now helping her up, while she was struggling faintly against their grip. She seemed slower and less in control than her usual self. Jorah quickly advanced on the trio, ready to kill both men. They seemed to know it and let go of Daenerys, who now stood wobbly on her feet. Two other guards came at Jorah. He tried to hold them off and simultaneously get Daenerys to safety. She slumped against a pile of cushions. Jorah held out his hand for her to take.
"Khaleesi, come on, let's go" he said between clashes of his sword, but she could only look up at him in utter astonishment.
He ran over to her, grabbed her by the arms and pushed her towards the back door. She was able to run now – albeit stumblingly, and they both made their escape to the balcony. Jorah all the while covered her back as she ran for the old and dirty stairs that seemed to lead nowhere. They ran down, into the city. Daenerys looked around feverishly. They were near the city's back end. Before Jorah had reached her, she ran off again, straight into the city. He called after her but she didn't stop. He sprinted towards her and caught her arm.
"Khaleesi, stop!" he nearly commanded. She looked at him with bewildered eyes.
"Our ships are docked near the desert. We need to exit through the eastern gate" she panted urgently.
Jorah shook his head.
"No, we can't go back into town. They will be looking all over for us. We have to go through the forest."
Daenerys looked at the forest that loomed behind the city's back wall. She seemed out of breath and the thought of the rain forest alone seemed to cause her to despair.
"Go through that jungle if you wish, but I'm choosing the desert" she bit back without looking at him.
Even with all the commotion going on, he still was a little taken aback by her hostile response. He looked at her and tried to find out what had caused her to be so angry at him. She was still panting and seemed uncomfortable under his gaze. Eventually, she looked up at him and met his eyes.
"Fine. We'll do it your way."
Before he could comprehend what was going on, she had already stalked off towards the rain forest. He knew she could be stubborn and sometimes a bit fickle, but he didn't remember her being like this. As he heard the screaming of men behind them, he pushed his confusion aside and ran after her.
As he caught up with her she grabbed his hand and halted him.
"Jorah…" she breathed. It sounded lovingly, but her face showed confusion and a certain desperation. He paused for a second – he told himself it was to obey his queen, but he knew it was because he was mesmerized by the way she said her name. She continued.
"I'm sorry…"
"No need for an apology, Your Grace."
"I don't feel very… I feel strange" she told him.
"Can you run?"
She nodded.
"Then follow me, Your Grace" he said and held her hand while they ran and guided them out of the city into the forest.
As soon as they were reasonable far into the forest, they paused for a moment. Daenerys was out of breath, caused by their running but as well as something else. Adrenalin rushed through her body, making her tingle everywhere, and making her unable to properly relax. Had she been comfortable for so long that her body had forgotten what it was to be fighting for her life?
She looked over at Jorah, her closest companion now once again standing right in front of her. How she had missed him during the last few months. He noticed her staring at him and looked at her. She smiled despite what had just happened.
"I can't believe you're here" she said as she grabbed his hand again.
The look in her eyes was so intense that Jorah averted his gaze towards his hand where her fingers were touching his skin. He nodded.
Her breathing grew heavier. A she studied him in front of her, head bowed, shyly looking down, she felt a rush of emotions and something she couldn't quite identify overwhelm her to the point that it frightened her.
She dropped his hand and backed away. This caused Jorah to look up in concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked and walked up closer again, studying her face and body for signs of hurt.
Daenerys nodded. "I just need to catch my breath for a moment."
As she tried to regain control of herself, she looked at Jorah, who had long regained his breath and who looked rather vigorous at this moment. Suddenly, she grasped her hand in shock, the hand that had taken his while they ran away and again only a few seconds ago, but there was no greyscale to be found.
She stalked over to him and grabbed his left hand. He watched her curiously as she rolled up his shirt's sleeve. No greyscale. Not even any scars. She looked up at him.
"You're alright..!" she said fighting tears of happiness.
Relief flooded her and a sudden urge came up from deep within herself. She grabbed his hand, his arm, and showered it with kisses, more erotic than caring, while she pressed it against her face and her chest. After only a moment she realized what she was doing and noticed his discomfort. Embarrassment and shame overcame her. As primal as her urge to kiss him had been, just as primal were her feelings of shame and rejection.
She had lost control, she realized, and he hadn't. He had been strong, unwavering, unaffected. And he had done as he always had: Just being there for her, not judging her, a safe and stable haven for her to make her mistakes, never faltering himself.
Well, except when he had, she thought angrily. When he had betrayed her. Anger swelled in her veins. She dropped the hand she was still holding and stalked off.
Jorah waited for a bit and sighed. He was afraid it would come to this. Initially, she might have been happy that he was cured, but now the threat of death had gone, she remembered his flaws and failings again. She was right to be angry with him, and to blame him for her temporarily lapse in judgment.
She hadn't verbally dismissed him though, so he figured he would accompany back to safety for as long as she let him. And so he ran after her.
They walked through the rainforest in silence. It was warm and humid. Their skins were clammy and their clothes clung to their bodies. Daenerys breathing was shallow, and Jorah wondered how she had gotten so out of shape. Her body still looked as slender and strong as ever… He stopped his train of thoughts before they got out of hand, but it seemed nearly impossible, walking behind her with her long hair gliding over her bare shoulders and back, the loose near white lavender pants clinging to her legs and backside, becoming translucent from the moist, her dark blue halter top tight over her chest. She was barefoot and he knew the plants and twines and rocks underneath her feet must hurt them, still she kept on walking without complaining.
He jogged up to her, coming to walk slightly behind her.
"Khaleesi, please stop for a moment. Your feet must be hurting."
She turned to look at him for a moment.
"What would you do about it? Carry me?" she sneered back and the image made his mind wander again to forbidden places. He stopped it when he noticed her eyes glazing over just as his must have only seconds ago.
There was an unfamiliar tension between them. He guessed it was caused by her inner conflict, trying to decide whether to answer his confession of love with the loving happiness at seeing him alive again, or the anger at his betrayal. He tried to diffuse it.
"There's a river a bit further into the forest. Once we reach it, I will build a raft that can drift us downstream towards the beach. From there it will be a short walk to where the ships are waiting."
She rolled her eyes.
"We should have gone through the desert and the dunes. It's far more direct. One would almost think that you purposely chose a detour to spend more time alone with me."
He could have stayed silent at her hurtful words, but he felt an overwhelming need to explain to her that his motives where pure.
"I would never, Your Grace. The desert was just too unprotected. They would spot us a mile away."
"Relax, ser Jorah" she said annoyed and humorless. "I know you think you had good reasons to have us walk all the way through this forest."
He had heard her speak like that before, to former slavers and other people she absolutely despised. He remembered her tears when he told her he was ill. He almost wished he was dying again.
"It's just, this forest… I would've much rather walked through the desert" she said, the venom gone from her voice.
As he thought about it, he could understand she felt more comfortable traveling through a desert. At least that was something she had done before. She knew the way there, knew the climate, could handle the scorching heat. Being the last dragon, she would be able to stand the heat even if I he wouldn't. He had thought that went for all kinds of heat – the oppressive heat from this forest included. But as it turned out, she had much more trouble dealing with this kind. She was sweating more than he had ever seen her do and her face was flushed. She paused for a second and looked back, as if debating to turn around and make her way to the desert anyway.
"This is the best way" he stated, and then added "trust me." He immediately regretted it, but Daenerys did trust him so she followed him down the path he created for them.
Daenerys realized her attitude towards her knight was uncalled for, much less regal. Upon watching him in front of her, she only felt happiness that he was by her side again. How many nights had she lied awake wishing for exactly that? How often had she thought about him, when she missed his advice, his stories, his friendship, even the loving looks he thought she hadn't noticed?
"I'm glad you're back, ser Jorah."
He turned around to look at her and she gave him a smile.
"You have missed a lot while you were away."
Jorah smiled and she continued by telling him about everything that had happened over the last few months and asking him to tell her of his adventures.
As they traveled further, the sun began to set. Their stomachs were empty and their mouths ran dry from talking and the lack of water. Daenerys moods continued to swing uncontrollably and she noticed it just as well as he did. One moment they were talking animatedly about Grey Worm trying to seduce Missandei, the next she only barked short, annoyed responses to his questions.
Jorah's mind was in overdrive. Perhaps it wasn't his betrayal that was the cause of her frustration with him, but rather his unrequited declaration of love that made her feel uncomfortable. For a lack of a better way to handle it, Jorah kept quiet. But that seemed to unnerve her even more.
She was walking in front of him over the small, rocky path on the side of a ravine, her hands trailing over the rock wall as if she could hold onto it in case she should fall. Jorah watched her carefully, focusing on her feet, making sure she put them on the right spots in front of her. Ironically, he didn't mind his own feet enough and stumbled at bit, causing small rocks to fall down into the ravine. Shocked, Daenerys spun on her heels to look at him, which caused the sharp leaves and rocks on the ground to cut her skin. She grabbed her heel with her hand.
"Ouch!" she growled and continue to mutter.
"How can it be that one moment I am lying down completely relaxed, enjoying Lys' finest, while the next I'm walking barefoot through the jungle with you again!"
"Those men were up to no good, Khaleesi" Jorah responded as he approached her to look at her foot. She turned away from him.
"I was negotiating business" she said defiantly. She knew he was absolutely right, but felt the need to pick a fight with him anyway. Jorah stayed frustratingly patient.
"Those men were never planning on selling you their ships. You know they had other plans…"
She looked at him as he spoke calmly. Damn him and his compelling voice.
"How would you know? You weren't there for it all, you just showed up last minute!" She hated how her voice wavered.
"I tried to get back to you as soon as possible, I did everything I could to get back to you..!" he responded, raising his voice.
Daenerys knew she had struck a nerve, she knew she should stop, she didn't want to fight – but something primal in her did.
"So that's why I found you here in Lys, spending your time in a whore house."
She sounded more amused than angry.
"I was just looking for information about your whereabouts. I thought you wanted me to come back to you…"
"I did!" she cried in frustration. "But maybe we shouldn't bother with that anymore, because there's probably going to be another reason why you'll have to leave me again."
They were silent for a moment. Jorah sighed.
"I really hope that won't be the case" he said.
Daenerys calmed somewhat and tried to regain control of her breathing again.
"Neither do I" she said softly and met his eyes.
She sighed and slumped back against the rock wall. She seemed rather defeated. She rolled her head sideways so she could look at him. He held her gaze.
"I've missed you, Jorah. More than you'll know."
Jorah swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. He tried to smile as a response, not knowing what to say. Daenerys continued to open up, now coming to stand slowly.
"I'm glad you found me tonight, and not just because I missed you…"
She walked towards him, still locking eyes with him.
"You saved me, again. You'll always save me… My bear" she murmured as she walked up close to him. She broke eye contact to look at his chest where she gently placed her hands. Jorah held his breath. She looked up at him, her big eyes looking so lovingly and grateful.
"I've missed you as well" he breathed. His hands moved on their own accord to her face, but when his rough fingers touched her cheeks he noticed that they were burning hot. Worry broke his trance.
He stepped back slightly to create some distance and held her shoulders to keep her steady. She seemed confused. He pressed his hands to her cheeks and forehead.
"You're burning up" he stated, concern lacing his words.
The sweet look that had turned into confusion, now turned into frustration. She shrugged herself loose.
"Dragons can't burn."
"Maybe not from the outside, but you are from the inside."
Daenerys huffed.
"I'm just hot, Jorah. It is ridiculously hot. Don't deny it, you're shirt is hanging wide open" she threw at him while her eyes rested on his nearly bare chest.
Jorah buttoned up his shirt somewhat, self-conscious under her stare that seemed to turn disappointed as he did.
"How are you feeling" he asked and reached out to her to touch her shoulder, but before their skins made contact she was already shrugging away from his concerned fussing.
"I'm fine" she growled and started to walk further on the path that led them onto the rocks. As Jorah once again saw her walking away from him, he noticed she wavered a bit with every three to four steps and he didn't like it one bit. She was sick and he knew it. He sprinted after her but as soon as he appeared next to her, she told him that he was too close and that he should walk a bit behind her. Jorah did as he was instructed, but kept a concerned look on her as he heard her labored breathing and noticed the small wounds and cuts on her feet.
Jorah decided to stay silent for now, trying to get her back to their camp as soon as possible, but after only a minute, Daenerys broke the silence herself.
"You know you're impossible to have as a friend?" she asked. Jorah didn't respond. "You've given me plenty of reasons to send you away, to be angry at you…"
He hung his head even though she didn't look at him.
"… But I can never stay angry with you for long."
She was silent again, but again only for a short while.
"I know you're a man of great passion, Ser Jorah" she said. She seemed to be rambling but Jorah listened diligently to his queen. She continued. "I've seen it often enough. But then on so many other occasions you're so in control, so unaffected by emotions. I don't kn-"
She stopped mid-sentence as she made a misstep and as he looked up, Jorah saw her nearly falling down from the ridge's edge. Instinctively, he reached for her and grabbed her arms from behind to pull her back. She flinched as his hands held her body and scrambled away from him as if he had hurt her. She stared at him, wide eyed, scared, and he wondered if maybe he had been too late that evening. If those men had already hurt her. Then he considered that her reaction could actually be caused by him and his behavior towards her. He couldn't bear to think either had happened. He inched closer, crouching down to be at eye level with her. She scampered even further away against the rocky wall. Her pupils where the size of saucers, darkening her violet-blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin damp with sweat, though the sun had nearly set and the air was cooler since they had started to climb upwards.
"Khaleesi, what's going on?" Jorah asked.
She seemed to become even more afraid as she shook her head.
"I don't know."
They stayed like that for a second longer, looking each other in the eye. Then Jorah walked up determined, his arms outstretched.
"I'll carry you for a bit" he told her.
She shook her head fervently, almost panicking. Jorah tried to smile reassuringly.
"Please, Khaleesi. I don't think anyone will forgive me if I let their queen hurt her feet or faint from the heat" he said as he came closer to her despite her protests. Her eyes shifted over his face and body, landing on his lips. Jorah halted and just as he thought she would kiss him, she pushed him away with a force that made him stumble backwards and fall over the edge of the cliff, just grabbing hold of it the last second. Shocked, she watched as Jorah pushed himself back on the ridge and up on his feet. For a second he inspected a scratch on his shoulder that wasn't too deep but bleeding still, before focusing back on her. Still no judgement, no anger; just concern.
Still in shock and filled with a fear inside her, she turned back to the road ahead and kept walking on steadily. Jorah wouldn't have any more of it, though.
"Hold on!" he called after her. "Stop!"
He sounded the tiniest bit frustrated for the first time and she stopped, but didn't turn back to face him.
"What's going on here?" he asked. "I won't deny that I deserve every bit of anger you feel towards me, but I won't allow you to hurt yourself in the process. I will leave you, if that is what you wish. But I can't do that before I see you safely back to your camp."
Daenerys sighed.
"No, Jorah… It's not that".
It encouraged Jorah to come a bit closer.
"Then what is it, Your Grace? Did they do something to you?" Anger laced his words.
"No, you prevented that… Thank you." she declared honestly.
Jorah fell silent for a moment.
"Always, Khaleesi…" he answered sincerely, his earlier frustration immediately forgotten.
This made her turn around a bit.
"I don't know what's wrong with me. This isn't how I am now; I haven't changed since you left" she said urgently.
"I know' he acknowledged. "Tell me how you feel."
She stared at him intently. Her cheeks reddened even more. She averted her eyes and looked around, trying to change the subject.
"Do you even know where were going?" she asked.
Jorah walked up to her. He looked around and pointed along the rock they were hiking upwards.
"See there? There's a waterfall, so the river is close by. We'll follow it downstream for a while and it will lead us straight to the beach."
"Good" Daenerys said, but she seemed tired.
Jorah looked around again. Near the waterfall were a few caves. The sun was nearly gone now.
"But for the night we'll camp in those caves. Get some rest and start out at first daylight tomorrow. Traveling through these forests at night is suicide."
Daenerys seemed reluctant. Jorah didn't allow her any time to disagree and started off ahead of her, leaving her no choice but to follow.
They arrived at the caves in short time and found one that was suitable enough. Jorah found them a few pieces of fruit on a tree and made beds out of leaves and moss. While he started on a small fire, he watched Daenerys drink greedily from the small lake beneath the waterfall. Then she started cooling herself down with the water, splashing it over her face and body, down her hair and chest. Jorah still felt concerned for her health, but those concerns were temporarily pushed to the back of his mind while his head filled with less pure thoughts as he watched her. Suddenly, her eyes caught his and she froze. He averted his eyes quickly and focused on making the fire.
Daenerys spend some more time at the lake. Finally, she walked back towards the caves, but instead of walking to the one Jorah had prepared for them, she chose the one as far from it as possible. Jorah stood up abruptly when she sat down there, all by herself in the cold, dark cave. He called her over, but she wouldn't come. He walked up to her, keeping an appropriate distance.
"You should come over to the other cave, my queen… It's much better protected" he tried to persuade her, holding out his hand for her.
She didn't respond, just kept looking at him, panting slightly, a pained expression on her face. He dropped his outstretched hand, not knowing what he could do to make her more comfortable.
"Please, tell me what the problem is. I'll fix it…"
No response.
"I've made a bed, you could try and sleep a bit" he offered.
"I think it would be better if we spend the night in different caves" she said, but it came out nervous rather than determined.
Jorah felt his cheeks reddening and thought about all the times he made a fool of himself. All the times others had called him out on his feelings for her, even in front of her, the times he declared her his love, all the stolen looks and glances, the touches. Even tonight, when she was refreshing herself. He had always only thought of his own embarrassment, never about her discomfort. He couldn't look her in the eye as he tried to apologize.
"Please, Your Grace…," he mumbled. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I never meant to… You shouldn't be afraid, Your Grace, trust me. I won't try anything" he added softly.
She was silent for a while, slowly walking up to him, never looking him in the eye though. He inhaled deeply, nervous for her reaction. She stopped in front of him.
"It's not you who I don't trust…" she panted.
He seemed confused.
She looked up at him, her face all helplessness.
"It's me."