Date: 2019-10-19 01:43 pm (UTC)
restrainer: (㉜)
From: [personal profile] restrainer
Although he had expected something--perhaps a hand squeeze, or maybe just another longing rake of her gaze across him that he could not quite interpret--Jorah was surprised to see the pouch. Part of him thought to insist she keep whatever it was to herself; after all, she needed protection, too, and more direly than he did. To the world, he was simply a shamed man who had found some small way of redeeming his mistakes through his support of their true Queen, and could not, or would not, ever deserve such a gift as the one she prepared to give him.

But he found that he could not refuse it. He could not look at her and hand it back, so he closed it into his palm, wrapped his fingers firmly around it and held it up, close to his heart.

"I shall carry it well, Khaleesi," he vowed, but there was a solemness to his voice that he could not quite imitate. Whatever it was, as light as it could be, it felt heavy to him, as though she were entrusting him with something precious and rare.

Aboard the ship, he opened the pouch.

Aboard the ship, he slipped the braided leather over his neck, tucked the weight of the ring in beneath his tunic.

And in the North, he clutched at the ring and prayed, begged for the Gods--whichever Gods, he did not care--to watch over his Khaleesi, to protect her from danger once he was gone.

Because there was danger, there, beyond the Wall, and it appeared to be danger he would never return from.
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Daenerys Targaryen

May 2019

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