Daenerys was no stranger to loss. After all, she'd lost both her husband and child a few years prior. But she did not know the pain of losing a parent.
Jorah held his composure in the grand hall when Lyanna told him that Jeor was dead, but she could see that the news cut through him like a sword. His words had been few afterwards, and he did not touch a single piece of food as they consumed dinner that evening. But when the two of them finally had a moment alone, the topic was the first thing Jorah brought up.
"I wanted to see him again," Jorah said, "To let him know one more time how sorry I am for the shame I brought upon my family,"
Daenerys sat down next to Jorah and placed her hand on top of his. "I'm sure he knew that," she said gently. "You were his son. He KNEW you, and he loved you,"
"And I threw it all in his face," Jorah got up and leaned against the doorframe, pressing his head against the wall. "Selling slaves," he scoffed. "The man raised me better than that,"
"We all make mistakes,"
"Mine were bigger in comparison,"
"But mistakes nonetheless," Daenerys persisted. "Think of all the slaves you've freed during our time together, and all those we have yet to unchain,"
Jorah knew she was right, but it didn't ease the pain of losing his father. "Killed by his own men," Jorah said as he sat down on the bed and placed his head in his hands, the possible scenarios playing out behind his eyelids. "His own brothers,"
From behind, Daenerys put her hands on his shoulders. "I did not know your father," she said, "But I know you, I've been told you are like your father. If that is true, then you are both honorable men. He knew you felt remorse for what you had done, and if he were here I'm sure he would be proud of what you are doing,"
Jorah raised his head and nodded, but his eyes were still cast downward.
"Is there anything I can do?" Daenerys asked. As someone who'd loved and lost, she had a semblance of what he was going through. She knew time would make these wounds bearable, but this very hour, this very night, and this very year would be a struggle.
Jorah finally turned around and looked at her, his eyes filled with a mourning she'd never seen before. Silently, he pulled her into an embrace. It was not one of passion, but rather of someone holding onto something that he feared losing.
"Just let me hold you," Jorah said simply, "I fear not much else will give me strength tonight,"
[Continued in "When Fates Collide".]