(no subject)

[ifilookback]

For restrainer



Jorah had returned to her.

It was late at night, and Daenerys couldn't sleep. It felt unreal. Last time she had seen her Bear had been outside of Vaes Dothrak, when he had helped rescue her. She had commanded him to find a cure for his affliction. Though she refused to give up hope, she had known there was a good chance she would never see him again. It had hurt her heart to watch him walk away.

But he returned to me. It was a good thing Jon Snow and her Dothraki guards had been there, else she might have broken down crying from relief and joy. That would not have been queenly of her. She had missed him more than words could say, and there was much she wanted to tell him and hear his thoughts on. For now, though, she needed her rest.

But rest was eluding her.

Dany tossed and turned in bed, a million thoughts racing through her mind. Cersei, Meereen, the North, Jon Snow's tales of a mysterious threat beyond the wall...there was so much work to be done, and decisions to be made. Yet her thoughts kept returning to Jorah. He appeared healthy and strong, and...

And the way he looked at her had made her heart skip a beat.

By the time dawn came, she had only slept a few hours. Daenerys had been pushing herself hard lately, so it wasn't unusual for her to retire late and start the day early. She bathed, dressed, and left her chambers, feeling restless.

So were the dragons. She joined them on the beach, Unsullied guards nearby but far enough away for privacy. Her children surrounded her, waiting impatiently for attention. "Good morning," she called out, smiling. When she was with her dragons, her spirit always felt lighter, and her mind became clearer.

Comments

[restrainer]

When Jorah had left, all of his remaining cards, obvious as they may have been, had been placed on the table, spread out in the open for everyone to see. Perhaps it had always been blindingly obvious, and Tyrion had merely spoken the words that others had muttered beneath their breath, or had hidden away in the back of their minds. Perhaps the only person who had been blind to them had been Daenerys--and perhaps she had known all along, too. It was a peculiar thought: to think that feelings which had been held so tightly, knitted into the patchwork of his heart, had been on display despite his fierce determination to keep them safe and curtained.

I love you. I'll always love you.

He had played his hand, spreading it out like it would absolve him of the sin. He had left knowing that he had at least spoken the truth, his final truth, and that the most important person had known.

And perhaps he hadn't really thought he'd ever come back to face her, again.

The place by her side had been filled by so many others--the comforting presence of Missandei, the strong shadow of Jon Snow. He wondered, now, if he were doing something he shouldn't; the stairs down to the beach felt heavy and solid, beneath his boots, and though the day had hardly started, Jorah had been awake for some time, now. He wasn't entirely certain what his role was, now that he had returned, now that he was healthy. He had pledged his life to her--he was her knight. But was that where she wanted him to be?

The Unsullied guards weren't troubled by his presence, as sand crunched beneath his feet and he made his way across the beach; Jorah wondered if the dragons would be so kind. He could see Daenerys, a bright light in the near distance, her hair whipped by the pleasurably cool morning breeze.

His movements were slow and methodical, and he kept a bit of distance between them. He loathed to interrupt her time with her children--though, as Drogon lifted his head to regard him, tilting his scaled head curiously, Jorah figured he'd been caught.

Smiling faintly, he clasped his hands at his back and waited.