»I protected you. Fought for you. Killed for you. Daenerys, I have loved you.«
»Love? Love? How can you say that to me? «
Daenerys watched as Jorah left the room, and she could swear she saw a tear running down his cheek. She couldn't forgive him. He sold her and her brother for a chance to get back home. For some stupid remote island, he sold her and her child, and he dared to speak of love and protection?
"Ser Barristan, see Ser Jorah leaves the city tonight. I don't want to look at his face again." She stood up seeing the old knight bowing to her and leaving her. Does he think she's still that scared little girl sold to the highest bidder? She's Queen of Mereen, a rightful queen of Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, and Mother of Dragons. There is no place for fear in her, not anymore. And Ser Jorah Mormont is a traitor, needed to be removed before he could do more damage.
Jorah was packing his things. There wasn't much, a couple of books and some clothes for colder weather he took when he left Bear Island. Dignity and pride were long gone, self respect vanished like Lynesse's love for him. Just a shell, an empty shell his body was, and that was all it was left.
After years of counsel and friendship, she sent him away like a piece of garbage, like an old dress she doesn't want to wear anymore. He was the only reminder that once she wasn't a queen or a mother of dragons. She was a child, sold, married, widowed, with a child she miscarried. And all happened too soon.
He heard a voice. "Ser Jorah." A low voice of a man he admired in his youth but never trusted as an advisor.
"Ser Barristan. Have you come to remove my head from my shoulders?" The old knight stepped into his room, hand firmly placed on the hilt of his sword.
"No. I see you packed. Her Grace asked me to see you out myself."
"In case something happens to me?" Jorah mocked him. The old man had every chance of not showing the royal pardon to Daenerys, yet he did. Selmy sensed the sarcasm in Jorah's voice.
"Ser Barristan." Daenerys walked into the room. "Would you leave us please?" Jorah was left alone with her. She was calm. No, she was stone cold. Her eyes, usually filled with fire, were dead. The worst happened.
She didn't care.
"Your Grace." He didn't know how to respond. She has forbidden him to call her Daenerys, she wasn't his queen anymore, not even his Khaleesi.
"Why what, Your Grace?" She approached him.
"Why did you do this to me?" He licked his lips.
"You know perfectly well why." Jorah looked down to his feet. "I wanted to go home, and everything I did was for either love or home. I wanted to see Bear Island again, to walk in the forest, to feel snowflakes on my cheeks, to see a bear...before I die." He trembled at the last sentence, remembering his time might come sooner than he thought. "And you know I can't collect the pardon. I haven't given them enough information. The pardon was signed by King Robert, and he's dead now. So is his eldest son. Now a little boy rules Westeros." He looked at her. "My homeland is destroyed because of some false kings trying to rule when there's only one that can bring peace and prosperity. You."
Daenerys felt a spark between them. She wanted to hit him, slapped him across the face to teach him a lesson. At the same time, she licked her lips, ready to kiss him. For every good counsel, every word of wisdom, every act of friendship he showed her even if he wasn't obliged to do. For believing in her when even she lost hope. For being her strength.
An awkward silence fell between the two, each one less certain how to react until Jorah made the move and claimed her lips. Those inviting lips he dreamt about every night, tasted of wine and fruit and...Lust. Daenerys resisted at first but when she felt his tongue on her lips, trying to enter her mouth, she lost control, opening her mouth, letting Jorah's tongue exploring it. It ended like it started: quickly and unexpectedly.
"Jorah..." Daenerys moaned when she managed to part from his lips which almost glued to her mouth. His piercing blue eyes were half shut from still ongoing pleasure he felt during the kiss, looking down to her breasts, and finally matched his eyes with hers.
"Am I permitted to call you Daenerys now?" He smiled.
His smiles gave her comfort.
And she needed comfort, now more than ever.
"This is your last chance, Jorah. You can remain in the city, and continue giving me your advice, but I can't say I'll ever trust you again as much as I did before." Jorah held her around the waist. She tried to resist, again without success. His big powerful hands were able to handle a longsword; a tiny Khaleesi was not a problem for him.
"Do you really hate me so much, Daenerys?" He held her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body through his yellow stained shirt. "Or don't you want to allow yourself to forgive?"
"You haven't asked for forgiveness. You thought it's for granted." Her facial muscles tightened. She felt like a little girl again, being told what to do. "Forgiveness is what makes you weak."
Jorah shook his head. "No, my Queen. Forgiveness is what makes a good and just ruler. A ruler who earns respect not by inflicting fear and pain, but by giving people a second chance. We all make mistakes."
"You're only saying this because it's you who is in the mercy of a queen. If it was Daario, you'd have him beheaded by nightfall." Jorah opened his mouth to protest but not a sound came out. His jealousy towards the young Tyroshi captain was obvious and uncontrollable. Daario Naharis managed to get the one thing from Daenerys Jorah never asked but always wanted. He was a man after all, his Queen was a beautiful woman, a Goddess he cherished in every way, but making her ripe with his child was a wish never to be fulfilled.
"I may not trust him but that is not a reason to have a man killed. Remember, you wanted my head if I don't choose another exile." Jorah was skilled with words, Daenerys knew it. And it was why she wanted him by her side.
"You betrayed me, Jorah. And I will never forget that." Her violet eyes watered. Jorah hugged her even tighter, kissing her gently on her forehead.
"I don't want you to forget." He led her to his bed.
"I want you to forgive."