Chapter 3: The Mother of Dragons

(Dragon Heart: A Trilogy)

I am not your little princess. I am Daenerys Stormborn of the blood of old Valyria and I will take what is mine. With fire and blood, I will take it. —Daenerys Stormborn (The Old Gods and the New; Season 2, Episode 6)

The rebels that wreaked havoc in Flea Bottom finally had a name: the Kingswood brotherhood. Aside from the food factions being stolen yet again, the brotherhood has managed to cause an enormous problem as news of noble men and high lords being kidnapped and taken hostage reached the queen.

Immediately, she sent out her troops to wipe out the group of bandits hiding in the forest as well as rescue the hostages.

And yet, they failed their queen in retrieving the noblemen. They all marched back to the red keep, Grey worm looking the most somber as he uttered the words—"they lay out traps for horses and unsullied. Half of men are killed and location of village is not known"

She sat in the iron throne as she listened to the horrible news: She lost half a dozen of her blood riders together with their horses, a couple more unsullied were injured. Many didn't make it out alive. The hostages were in metal cages and men with blades and arrows hid in the trees to kill any and all intruders. The food has diminished, but not one was traced back to any part of the forest nor to a village within it.

She knew she had lost more than that in the battle between her and the Lannisters but a brotherhood of puny outlaws has managed to make a joke out of her reign by challenging her authority, even if she has ruled without casting the shadow of fear.

"It was your father, King Aerys, who has last dealt with the bothersome outlaws. No news have been heard of them until now." spoke Tyrion, who stood to her right "My brother Jamie has told me the story of how he connived with the finest swordsmen and knights: Ser Barristan Selmy, and Ser Arthur Dayne. Together, they managed to kill the brotherhood leader named Simon Toyne, and a one well-renowned Smiling Knight."

"And what did this brotherhood want that had to be paid with ransom?" she inquired

"Food and gold" answered Jorah, who stood to her left in his armor. "And to overthrow whichever ruler that sits on the throne"

"So they are threatening me" she stated coldly, her blood rising. She felt her hands tighten against the arm of the iron chair.

"Mocking is a more suitable term" said Tyrion "they wish for food and gold but most of all: havoc. They thrive in it. They feel strongly for it and they will do anything to relive it"

"I will not be giving them the pleasure" she answered. She stood before all her loyal subjects and said, "We will not allow these bandits to steal what we have given to the common people. We do not know of their numbers and how many are plotting to destroy the peace of this city, but we will fight. They will be begging for their lives after I am finished with them."

She motioned for her advisors and guards to follow her in the chamber of painted tables.

"There are hundreds of them" said Jon Snow, who had only recently arrived at the painted tables with his northern men. He had promised to scout the perimeters of the forest for her. "They own no villages but tents near the largest river and by dead of night, they return to their homes"

"Where are these homes?' she demanded

"The trees" he responded "They are climbers. They have managed to reach great heights without falling, carving out their own place on the branches and trunks all the while enjoying the screams of plea from the noblemen below them"

"Then the solution should be easy, isn't it?" she said, rising from where she sat. "I shall fly with Drogon and burn the forest. I shall not gamble anymore of my men when there is one thing that I can do myself"

This was met with silence. Jon was looking at her differently, as if he wanted so much to disapprove but could not say anything. Tyrion and Varys wasn't looking at her. They had their eyes cast down on the floor.

"Risking your life is not wise, your grace" said Jorah, who stepped forward from her left to look at her. "The first thing these outlaws want is to see you dead, they will do everything to fight back. And also, destroying the entire forest will burn the hostages, as well as the little villages within it. This includes the people who lives nearby who are in no way involved in this feud"

"What do you propose to do then?" she said, "As Lord Commander of my queen's guard?"

Jorah stepped closer to the table, his fingers reaching out to a specific area from the map

"Your men separate into four groups. All four enter from different direction, leaving a one mile radius around the outlaws living on the trees. One group sets fire to a clearing,—" Jorah pointed at a part of Kingswood "until the hostages see the flames and yell out, and until the outlaws can smell the smoke from above."

Daenerys walked to his side to peer closely at where he was pointing. As she bent closer to his shoulder, she noticed how Varys gave her a small knowing smile.

She ignored it.

"Since these bandits have limited eyes from what is happening below, due to the blinding abundance of leaves and branches, they will be forced to go down and put out the fire themselves." Jorah continued "The three groups then attack and slay every kingswood brother. The Dothraki with arrows may start getting closer and shoot, and the fourth group will be in charge of rescuing the hostages"

"Grey Worm" she said, looking at the Unsullied commander who stood next to Missandei "What do you think of this plan?"

"It is an ambush" Grey Worm responded, "The plan may work. We must attack when they don't expect"

"At daybreak" said Jorah, nodding "I agree to this"

"Me and my men volunteer to be a group coming in from the north part of the forest" said Jon, who pointed his finger to an entrance to Kingswood found on the table. "We shall ride our horses and patiently wait for the fire to break out"

"I don't think you should participate" said Jorah, who has finally addressed Jon Snow after that bitter exchange when they met for the first time "You are to be married to the queen. Your life should not be gambled with"

Jon shook his head "What use am I if I don't come and help? Did you expect me to stay and wait until the battle is won?"

"Yes" Jorah replied "your place is now beside the queen's. As I will be going with Grey Worm and a few more unsullied to set the fire trap"

Daenerys looked at her knight in surprise. "You intend to join the battle?"

He bowed "It is I who knows the plan best. Let me fight for you, your grace"

"You are a part of my queen's guard—" she started saying

"And yet I swore an oath to serve and protect you"

She begged him not to go with a look, but he didn't seem perturbed. Daenerys knew Jorah didn't have to do this. But of course he would. He would offer his entire soul if he could, for her. But it infuriated her sometimes how little regard he has for his life when she didn't want to lose him.

"Your grace, I, too, would want to fight" said Jon "Let me and my men fight for you"

She frowned.

However, no one was looking at her. They were all transfixed at the stare-down between Jon Snow and Jorah Mormont who stood face to face with the painted table in between them. Their expressions were blank yet their jaws were tight and clenched. They were clearly trying to one up the other.

Foolish men! she wanted to yell out

But Daenerys know how it was ego that motivated men and she wanted to take no more part in stroking either of theirs.

She cleared her throat and their attention refocused on her. "Very well. Those who want to fight shall fight and I will be sitting here—useless but awaiting for the victory"

She summoned Tyrion to her chambers the evening before the ambush took place the following day. After learning about Jorah and Jon's strong insistence to be part of the men waging a war to the kingswood brotherhood, she had felt very unsettled.

She had never been one to put much faith in prophesies but she has always trusted her instincts. It was what saved her during her time in Essos. Her gut tells her that sending both men she cares about in the forest would result in drastic consequences.

She never should have allowed Jorah to go.

Daenerys flew on Drogon earlier that day, having no particular destination on where to land. Instead, she reveled in the feeling of weightlessness. Of discovering how small everything was from below her, and if she thought much about it, the skies bore witness to every single human plight but considers it insignificant and forgettable.

She has come to ponder about the extent of power and how much of it was permissible for her to yield. Drogon covered small villages with the shadow of its wings and she saw common people from below her look up in awe and fear at the sight of her and her dragon flying over them.

Daenerys never thought of it before, but she has come to the conclusion that every decision was still small, compared to the entire stretch of the world. That whatever it was beyond the skies, didn't care for queens or kings or khals or common people. They were all tiny and meaningless and would return to dust.

It was vital for her that she makes valuable decisions. Decisions that would make her selfish but happy.

"You called for me?" said Tyrion, who had entered her room after knocking.

"Sit" she said, motioning the seat across from her. She had asked Missandei to prepare some wine. When Tyrion saw his strongest vice prepared on the table, he immediately grabbed a goblet and poured for two. One was filled to the brim, the other was half full.

He gave her the half full goblet, which she accepted. Tyrion then sat comfortably, sipping his wine before speaking again, "Mormont has been looking for you. You had him worried when I told him you left with Drogon"

She offered no response but sipped a tiny bit of wine. The flavor settled on her tongue and she had to swallow it very quickly. She was never one for wine, unlike the previous queen who hid barrels upon barrels of it.

"Jon Snow, meanwhile asked me to find you"

"What did he want?" she asked

"The same as anyone else, I suppose" replied Tyrion, "The attention and validation from a powerful dragon queen"

She snorted "You amuse me"

"Don't I always? My loving father used to say how I could work for the circus and be the imp that could amuse people" he chugged a mouthful and set his cup down "Why have you called for me? Do you need my counsel, your grace?"

"Not particularly, no" she replied in a soft voice, twirling the goblet in her hand "You failed to console me back in Mereen so I expect nothing of comfort from you. I simply want to converse with somebody"

"What about?"

"The kingswood brotherhood" she said a little spitefully "I want this conflict to be done with. I am eager to just get on and continue with all the plans we have plotted for King's Landing and the conquest of the other Kingdoms"

"The other kingdoms are well aware that you are coming for them, your grace" he said, "Not many have expressed hostility, if you can believe. I am not one to provide irrational assumptions but I think your conquest for Westeros would be far less work in comparison to that of Aegon's."

"You do know how to console me" she showed him a brief smile "Is this information true?"

"I have been sending letters to the ruler of each kingdom, announcing the beginning of your reign as you sit on the iron throne. Nobody has been remarkably rude or against it as of the moment. Dorne, in particular has no qualms in paying you a visit for them to bend the knee"

"Dorne? How ironic" she said, shaking her head in disbelief "This was the Kingdom that gave Aegon the hardest time"

"Funny how times have changed" said Tyrion, taking another chug from his goblet.

"Funny" she repeated

"Now, why don't we talk about the real reason as to why you summoned me?" he said, attempting to pour himself another cup of wine after thoroughly finishing his first.

"Why do you think I called you here?" she asked, bemused

"You overheard me and Mormont arguing in the throne room" Tyrion said, leveling his eyes with hers. Despite emptying his entire cup, he managed to give her an earnest look. "Haven't you?"

Her brows knotted in confusion "You were aware that I was there?"

He chuckled. His small body shook with it, and a strand of his hair fell to his face. He pushed it away before saying, "You seem to forget how striking your hair is. A tiny display of silver would immediately bring attention. Mormont missed it because his back was to you. But I've seen you duck in that alcove."

She frowned at him. She placed her still-filled cup down the table and folded her palms against her lap. "Am I to assume that you were asking those questions to Jorah because you knew I was listening?"

He smiled and took a long sip. She had the strange urge to knock it down the floor and watch his face crumple in dismay.

"Yes, I did" he said, cradling the goblet with two hands "You should have seen his face, my queen. It was pitiful and pathetic. He shattered in pieces before me."

"I didn't need to see" she answered him coldly "I heard him"

He shrugged, unconcerned

"Why must you be so cruel to him?" she demanded "He has done no wrong. He has never tried anything with me and shows me the highest respect that I have received than any of you combined"

"I admit how wrong it was" Tyrion conceded by raising his cup "However, I wanted him to reflect upon his feelings. He has sat with it for so long. Should he want a wife, he could. Should he want gold, we can provide. Should he want home, you can command him be. But he only wants you, and that is the root of his demise. He sees nothing but you, your grace. He is no longer a man, but a worshiper"

She was about to speak when Tyrion continued, "As pathetic as he is, you have to know that you have become his strength. You, the very essence of who you are and not just the things you bring with you." he finally put his goblet down "I admire him for that"

They sat in silence for a moment as she reflected on his words. Tyrion had been cruel. But every part of what he said was the truth.

"You deserve that bruise" she said, eyeing the discolored injury on his jaw. "Jorah did well to punch you"

"Oh, I knew I earned it" he laughed a little tipsily "It hurts like hell, too. But hearing him admit to every assumption I threw at him was worth it. Wouldn't you say so, your grace?"

She merely took a sip of her wine in response.

It was long before daybreak and the southern winds continued to be chilly and crisp. The sky was dark and had vast distribution of stars and the torches around the castle walls were cracking merrily, burning bright orange flames.

Daenerys watched four troops of her men including Jon Snow and his northerners align themselves on the castle grounds, ready to leave. She knew that this was one of the many more wars she had to endure to secure her throne. And a part of the countless battles in her past that had ultimately led her to rule Westeros.

She had not slept a wink the night before from worry and felt tired but rapt as she stood near the castle door entrance with her advisors behind her, her cloak jostled by the air around them and her breath fogging from the cold. It pains her to see them leave. Jon Snow, and Jorah.

But she bit her tongue and watched in silence as they loaded in their weapons and gave their horses one final brushing.

It was Jon Snow that first approached her.

"We shall talk when this is over" he said to her, his eyes were still downcast but there was an overshadow of determination she had not seen from him before. This only made her trust him more "We will win this for you, your grace"

"I look forward to it" she told him, reaching out to touch his arm "I wish you and your men well. And thank you, for fighting with us in this time of need"

He bowed and said no more.

She watched him mount his horse and adjust the sword resting on his scabbard. He gave her one more look before marching with his men out into the field. It saddened her to see him go into a fight like this, when their alliance hasn't been fortified by marriage. She knew he was a valuable ally and friend and she only wished for him to come back unscathed.

However, her concern for Jon Snow was muted when she saw her knight approach her. Immediately, her heart swelled and she reached out her hands for him to hold.

"Your Grace—" Jorah started

"I am giving you one last chance to stay here with me. Let the others fight. I would be more than glad to see you by my side, safe and sound"

He smiled at her gently, his hand gripping her own with the warmth she knew he brought with him. "It would be my honor if you allow me to fight, just as I have done countless times, for you"

She can only look at him in response. Saying goodbye to him before a fight wasn't new to her. She'd done it in Vaes Dothrak, Mereen, Yunkai, Astapor, and Qarth. But this time was different. This was the time when she had realizations about her feelings for him, despite its wrongness. She had discovered how feeling this insurmountable tenderness for him was more than friendship and trust.

"Then I wish you victory" she said simply

He bowed "For you, my queen"

Jorah was about to go, but she stopped him by tightening her grip on his hands. He looked at her in surprise.

"Jorah, wait" she whispered, swallowing the bile that suddenly rose from her throat. The thought of never seeing him again in this state had driven her to worry. Though she hated letting him see the depth of how much she cared, she didn't stop herself from doing so

"Please. Don't die. I will not know what do with myself if you do. You are to return to me with your life and your body intact. I forbid you to die. I forbid it"

He nodded, his eyes spoke to her about a million parts of his devotion and love.

"I will see you again, my queen. This is a promise that I intend to keep"

Leaving the queen was no easy feat for Jorah Mormont. Time away from her when he contracted the deadly grayscale was their longest separation ever since he met her and while he was being treated in the Citadel, he had thought of nothing more than her safety and well-being, every day and every night, after he woke and before he went to bed. It was her name on his lips and her face on his mind.

This was no different for him, as it was oddly reminiscent to his last departure. He trotted on with his horse and with her men: unsullied, Dothraki and now a new ally, Jon Snow. To bring her back honor and victory by defeating the Kingswood brotherhood. It was always like this for him, and by now he should have been used to saying his goodbyes, knowing that there was a possibility for them to never see each other again. Him, dead in the hands of her enemy.

But every goodbye always felt like the first and last.

Khaleesi. Khaleesi. Khaleesi. He utters under his breath like a prayer. One for good luck, Two for guidance and Three for a victorious return to his queen.

He takes one look back at the castle looming from behind him. He spots his queen still standing at the entrance, her hands clasped together and her silver hair flying all around her. He could no longer make out her face as it was too far away, but he would like to think that she was looking at him.

When the Red Keep was out of sight and they headed on to barren fields, Jon Snow rode up to him, with his fur coat and black leather clothes. Jorah would never admit it out loud but the fur cloaks reminded him of Bear Island. Nothing was warmer and more comfortable than bear fur around a man's back.

Both men rode in silence for a moment and Jorah would have liked to keep it that way until Jon spoke, "She trusts you very much"

"She doesn't trust easily." was Jorah's curt reply

"And yet she did" said Jon "she still does"

Jorah shook his head "It took me a long time to earn it and had to work harder to regain it"

"Tyrion told me" Jon said, referring to Daenerys finding out about Jorah's first intentions "Yet you're still here. You've been given King Robert's pardon and you chose to stay by her side. Why?"

Their horses trotted on, strong yet stealthy in the dark while Jorah thought of how to explain without having to reveal the extent of how much he admired his queen.

"It was different when her dragons were born. She was the only one who managed to bring back these creatures, making the impossible a reality. But it wasn't just about that." Jorah said, "I stayed even when she was at her weakest because it was in those moments where she was bravest. She silenced those who underestimated her power. Khals and Masters and other cynics alike. "

"You never doubted her?" said Jon "Your loyalty never wavered, not once?"

"Never" said Jorah solemnly "The queen is capable of ruling. She may inspire fear but she also inspires freedom and devotion. Here she sits on the throne, and yet people are slowly warming up to the idea of the peace and prosperity she is starting to build"

Jon was silent as he processed this "You believe she isn't like her father?"

"I'd like to believe she was raised differently" answered Jorah "Her everyday choices proves to have the furthest resemblance from her father's"

Jon was looking at him for a long time—as if truly seeing him for the first time—before saying, "Your loyalty is admirable"

"She deserves no less" was Jorah's reply

They were silent again but not before long when Jon broke it.

"I worked with your father in Castle Black" he said in a somber voice "He was an honorable man. He treated me as if I was his son"

Jorah sighed. Hearing about his father would always feel like plunging a dagger back into an old scar, re-opening the flesh and exposing the wound. "I dishonored him. I brought shame into my family"

"Aye, you did" said Jon, but not accusatorily "I have never told you this, but I was there when he died. It was his dying wish to forgive you."

Jorah halted his horse to look at Jon, surprised at this information. Mormonts were taught to show very little on the outside. Little emotion, concise words and rare outbursts. His father always ingrained in him the principle of letting his work speak for himself, rather than running with his mouth.

And so as he opened his mouth now, he quickly changed his mind, remembering what his father taught him. He'd rather keep such outburst to himself. It did him well before and it would do him well now. He promised to honor a prayer to his father once he returns. He will kneel and pray to the seven gods that his father may rest in peace.

"Even at his last moments, he remembered you" continued Jon quietly

Jorah cannot look at Jon as the emotion stirred within him. They continued on along in silence, their horses trotting past more barren fields until the shadow of the kingswood forest loomed over them.

"This is where we separate" Jon said to him "My men and I shall head farther and take shelter nearest the Wendwater river. I wish you well"

They locked gazes for a moment. Jorah felt their regard for each other change. A silent, respectful camaraderie. A shared father. A shared home in the north. Perhaps, even the same woman. But it didn't matter as of now.

"As I, you" said Jorah

Then both men headed into separate directions. Jon Snow further north and Jorah with his troop, entering at the eastern part of the forest.

The journey to the heart of the forest was no easy feat for any of the queen's men. The path was dark and the occasional sound of twigs breaking and heavy branches rustling echoed all around them. Jorah's horse began neighing out of thirst and had to be fed water. Greyworm and the others with them were silent and deadly, eyes wide aware and ears always rapt.

No one had spoken out of fear of being overheard.

Finally, when Jorah caught site of the large metallic cage a few hundred feet away from them, he ordered the rest to halt.

He and Greyworm simultaneously nodded at one another as they reached the edge of the clearing they were about to set ablaze. Zirqyin, one of the Dothraki arrow men, lit up the end of his arrow and shot the mound of shrubbery and plants alight from a mile away. At once, the fire started to consume any and all flammable thing, spreading very quickly like wildfire.

As expected, the screams of terror from the hostages were heard as they all noticed how the fire nearly surrounded them.

Jorah and Greyworm exchanged a look. Wait. Patience.

Then slowly and one by one, men residing above the trees climbed down with ropes tied to their waist, investigating the fire that started. Orders to bring water and dirt were heard all around, men were running back and forth with barrels upon barrels of water. Sacks of dirt were carried by a dozen men, pouring it all over the shrubs around. The chaos they had created momentarily distracted the brotherhood of kingswood.

More water! A dozen more sacks of dirt! Watch our prisoners, you cunt! Scan the perimeter!

Jorah took a step back further against the tree to hide. He tried to squint his eyes and made out the shadow of the other troops. From the north, Jon Snow waiting in the shadows, the west and south, men anticipating, waiting for the signal.

Wait.

From beside him, Zirqyin inhaled—

Zing!

Jorah and Greyworm stood aside, nonplussed when the Dothraki arrow man fell on the forest floor with a thud. Upon further examination, an arrow had struck him right on the forehead. The blood started to pool around his skull, pouring into the forest floor and coating it red, his eyes were open but blank.

The knight's heart started to race. It would have been him, should he have stood at that exact place as Zirqyin. It would have. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to imagine the queen's face, gentle and openly smiling at him. He quickly thought about how she smelled when she entered his chambers, its sweet scent wafting his nose, and her body curved against his in a forbidden embrace.

When he opened them, he was pulled back to the harsh reality.

"They know" said Greyworm

There was silence for a split second.

Zing!

They all ducked as more arrows soared past their heads, very narrowly missing them. Jorah and Greyworm exchanged a look as the knight withdrew his sword from his scabbard.

"Charge!" he yelled

Then chaos ensued from all around them.

Daenerys was in the Dragon Pit once more.

It was broad daylight, and she walked back and forth around her children while they looked at her in curiosity. Drogon most of all, had been more than prepared to spread its wings and take her to the kingswood forest. But she restrained herself until plea for help or any news at all from her men would reach her.

She sighed, her brows knotted together. It wasn't past her to worry. She hated not doing anything, when she knew she could end this preposterous battle once and for all with one fire breath from her child. She should not have gambled with Jon Snow's life. Or Jorah's.

Daenerys closed her eyes and tried to think of how Jorah looked as he promised to come back to her with his life. She had watched him on his trotting horse, until he disappeared out of sight earlier, but her worry for the knight never dissipated. He had survived greyscale. Surely, he could overcome this. Surely.

"Not yet" she told Drogon, as it flapped its wings impatiently

"Your grace!"

She quickly turned to see Varys running, out of breath towards her.

"The battle was won. The Unsullied has returned with the hostages as well as the chained brotherhood"

Her heart quickened, pleased with the news. But she realized one tiny thing about what Varys said.

"The others? Jon…Jorah?"

Varys understood. But she didn't care. She wanted to know. He shook his head gravely "No news of them as of the moment. The more pressing question here your grace is, What would you have these criminals do?"

Daenerys tried her very best not to fly into the forest and scurry along to look for her knight. Her foot twitched. Drogon was still looking at her in anticipation. There was no news of his return. But he promised.

Yet, she exhaled and shook her head. If there was one thing she learned from him, it was to wait. Instead of charging past the red keep, she should remain here and tackle the captured brothers from kingswood so they may learn to bend the knee to her.

"Bring the high lords and noblemen into the kitchen. Feed them food and water. Lock the criminals in the dungeon for the time being. In the afternoon, when the hostages are well rested and the criminals have further reflected on their crimes, we shall have a trial in the Dragon pit"

It has been a long time since he fought with vigor despite his age and diminishing strength. But as Jorah held his sword tightly—the sole protector of his life from death—everything came back to him. The familiar slashes of his blade on another man's flesh, the thrill of outsmarting an enemy in the battlefield, the feel of being an assassin, to kill, to fight and to bring honor not only to his queen, but to his father.

He dodged past a few bandits, quickly evading their piercing swords and retaliate with a flick of his wrist right on the neck, his sword slashing through the throat and tongue.

Jorah panted, his armor was hot and heavy but continues to save his life. He scurried the entire field for a moment. Greyworm and some of the unsullied have successfully released the hostages and managed to escape as he, Jon Snow and his men remained to distract and kill the other men from the brotherhood.

They had lost dozens of men, but the outlaws and bandits lost more. Which meant that the queen's side was winning and they had the potential to wipe out anymore uprisings.

Jorah spotted Jon Snow fighting two at once and quickly joined him. Thus began a lethal dance.

"Your soldiers managed to rescue the hostages. They must be far now" Jon managed to tell him, while fighting off a bandit.

"The others?" asked Jorah, who continues to fight beside the king, their blade clashing metal against metal, echoing in the forest. He managed to kick the bandit who grunted and rolled over, only to return fighting.

"Dead" answered Jon, before successfully managing to pierce his enemy's abdomen with his spear. "Some continue to fight"

"Go" said Jorah, "round up all those who survived and let us slowly retreat. The brotherhood has been defeated and very few remain"

He and Jon shared a look, as if they both understood that it was finally time they claim the victory. Jon nodded and left.

The bandit who Jorah was fighting gave one powerful grunt as he attempted to pierce Jorah's head. The knight quickly dodged, but not before emitting a slash wound that immediately started bleeding.

"I will kill you!" said the bandit savagely, his mouth foaming with saliva and eyes bloodshot with anger.

Jorah panted from exhaustion. The wound at his neck began to pulse with heat as the pain seared him almost blind. He managed to dodge another swing of the sword and rolled over on the forest floor to balance himself. When he opened his eyes, the bandit was grinning.

"You filthy knight!" he spat

Jorah managed to kick him in the stomach and the enemy flew back a few feet.

"How dare you uprise against the queen!" Jorah said, back on his feet and sword tight in his hand. When he cupped his neck, he saw the pool of blood in his palm.

The bandit stood again and they resumed their sword dance. Jorah backward then forward again, clang of metal intended to kill, against each other at daybreak and in the chaos of the once silent forest. From around them, other men continued to fight one another. Jon Snow was nowhere in sight.

Jorah managed to pierce the man's leg, making him kneel. The knight finally saw an opening to kill, as he began envisioning the bright image of his queen welcoming his return with a relieved smile, her arms wide open for him to step in.

The man's chest was exposed and Jorah raised his sword, gave one final swing, a slash and a blur of metal in the entire forest, and blood managed to flood the leaves from under them, slowly then quickly.

Once the man lay dead at his feet, he lowered his sword and tried to assess his surroundings. The forest fire they conjured has been turned to ashes. No more men lingered from the trees above and the hostages were far from danger.

"DUCK!"

The knight tried to find the source, eyes looking wildly, alert and rapt—but not alert enough as rain of arrows began flying everywhere and it was a moment too late when he spotted that it was Jon Snow who yelled out a warning at him.

For a moment, he was confused. He had thought that more men had come out from hiding, intending to kill them. His line of vision stilled, his ears were silent and his men were suddenly looking at him in horror. Jon, most especially, looked the most anguished as the king in the north slashed his sword back and forth against the bandit arrow man, piercing him on the throat.

It was to the knight's horror when he realized something was amiss about him.

"No news of them?" Daenerys demanded of Varys, who sat beside her on the Dragon pit.

Greyworm had brought the brotherhood prisoners, their hands chained and linked to the others. He stood there in front of her, with concealed pride and earnest. They had arrived earlier, their forces injured but without casualties. The high lords and noble men were being taken cared of in the kitchens, as she had commanded, they were given food and drink as their families await for their return.

She admit that seeing the hostages alive and well gave her a sense of relief, but it still wasn't enough to silence the growing worry in her as Jorah and Jon Snow still haven't returned.

Daenerys stirred in her seat for what felt like a millionth time.

Even if she had summoned everyone for a hearing which felt more like a formality at this point, her heart and mind wasn't in it. She wished with all her heart that they were making their way back here, alive and well. Her knight's absence has continually distracted her, the despair slowly creeping up and enveloping her mind.

Varys sighed. "As soon as I do, I will immediately inform you, your grace"

"Why don't we focus on the matter at hand?" Tyrion spoke, who sat on her other side. He gave her a pointed look towards Greyworm with the captured bandits presented in front of her.

From above, her dragons roared and everyone but her visibly winced.

She sighed and stood up to her full height. She eyed the men who dared challenge her authority and approached them carefully. She wanted to be done with them. She wanted to return to normalcy, if that was even possible.

"Give me a reason as to why I should not burn you with my dragons" she said coldly to all of them "Do I have a reason to be merciful to any of you? You who claim to be a brotherhood of kingswood?"

The captured men looked at one another in fear. They remained silent.

"How dare you steal from the common men?" she exclaimed, her voice echoing across the silent Dragon Pit. Her audience were all statues, awaiting her verdict. "What makes you think taking hostages and giving grief to their families could get you what you wanted?"

She stared them all down with her angry gaze, the dragon in her has roared angrily.

"How dare you uprise against me, the queen who sits on the iron throne?"

There was silence, then a distant laugh coming from one of the bandits.

"You are no queen. You whore!" His voice resonated around the stunned audience, as he insulted her further by spitting at her feet.

Her temper flared as her mouth twitched to give the word of punishment. But she breathed out calmly, biting down her tongue. When she looked at her dragons, it was Drogon who looked most angry, hissing and ready to pounce. From behind her, Tyrion was shaking his head. A warning at her.

Greyworm drew his spear and pointed it at the bandit's throat.

"Mind your tongue!" he yelled "Or you won't have any"

"Kill us all now, then!" the bandit retaliated "We'd rather be dead than suffer under a foreign ruler who knows nothing about this land! She will drive us all to madness just as her father did!"

Daenerys tried her best not to show how the words affected her. She was a Targaryen, but she was not her father. She'd rather kill herself than give in to the madness.

"I will give you one last chance" she said, through clenched teeth, her voice quivering with rage. She didn't like giving out chances to hopeless people but she knew it was for the best that she show mercy even to those who do not deserve it.

"Bend the knee to me and your life will be spared. It will be spent in the underground cellars where you will reflect upon your actions" she paused, "Or die"

There was silence as everyone in the dragonpit awaited a response. Daenerys clasped her hands together, waiting as well, her eyebrows rising.

Finally, there was a movement. She watched as the bandit's face twist in scorn. He spat at her feet once more.

"Burn us!" said the man locked in chains before her, his teeth bared "You like seeing people turn into ashes before you, hearing their scream of pain and plea. You enjoy it. You crave for it. Just like your father! Burn us then! Burn us! Prove us all right!"

At that moment, she was caught in between giving in to their taunts, or stepping up and becoming better. She caught Lord Tyrion's eyes and immediately, he shook his head at her. To signify a no. Daenerys turned to Greyworm, after getting frustrated at her right hand's predictable and wearisome counsel. The unsullied commander looked back at her with a hardened expression. He too, had no sympathy for any of these men and it was in this look that conveyed to her how she should do the same.

The queen formed a resolve and her gaze fell once more to the criminals.

The bandits looked especially taunting. They reminded her of the khals who once underestimated and ridiculed her in Vaes Dothrak. Where were they now? She placed them in their rightful place. Today, she was repeating history.

"No" she finally spoke, smiling a fragment. "I don't think burning is punishment enough"

The bandits who were leering at her confidently suddenly stilled.

She stepped forward and addressed the entire dragon pit. "The kingswood brotherhood is charged guilty of thievery, kidnapping and murder."

As one, the high lords and ladies who were present in the hearing nodded in agreement.

Daenerys continued, "And as such, I, Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen first of my name, Queen of the andals and the first men, sentence these criminals to die"

The men's faces quickly turned into fear, the chains that bounded their hands together clinked as they awaited to hear her say the words. But those words would never come. Today was the beginning of her restraint. Tyrion had taught her how fire was too cruel.

But the queen disagrees. There were worse ways to punish criminals, ways that she learned from the dothraki themselves.

"You will all be hanged" she said calmly "And in those very last minute where you gasp for air, my khalasar will come and mangle you slowly. Piece by piece, until nothing is left of you"

Jorah looked down on himself and found an arrow protruding through his torso.

This was the thing: he had no memory of when exactly the arrow managed to pierce his abdomen, nor had any recollection of the pain. All he remembered was his knees giving out, as he fell on the forest floor with a thud of his heavy armor. He felt the slow heat pouring out from behind him, thick and smelling of rust: his own blood soaking his back.

Everything was in slow motion. Jorah's eyes began to blind him, as the trees became a blob of green and brown. His ears heard indistinguishable yells, as thundering footsteps echoed all around him. He gave a few painful pants as he attempted to cover up the wound that the arrow managed to penetrate, but it was no use. The arrow was too deep in and too painful to pull out. It could make him bleed to death. He winced.

"Mormont!" he heard someone say. Jon Snow, perhaps. But it was too far away to decipher and he felt like he was floating like a feather.

He gave out a low grunt of pain. He heard a clang of metal drop, his sword lay beside him on the forest floor, dormant like him.

"You are not dying, Mormont. Do you hear me? Not on my watch!"

He blinked a couple more times, the pain consuming his entire torso into paralysis. He can only make out distinct shapes, a human shadow but nothing else was clear. He closed his eyes as his breathing started to slow down.

"Open your eyes!"

Quickly, Jorah began to realize that this was how it was going to end for him.

And even then, the knight thought of nothing else. Not of the pain, nor the battle that they had won, nor the saved hostages nor his advancing death.

He thought of his father, despite not remembering how his face looked like. Jorah thought of the disappointment and shame he caused by what he'd done. He regret not seeing him for all these years, begging for forgiveness. He regret not taking the black and joining him as Lord Commander.

"I'm sorry father" he murmured to the world that began to lose him "I'm so sorry"

His ears were muted. He felt people jostling him, stirring him awake, mounting his body on an animal but he didn't care enough to open his eyes. He knew that his few breaths left were precious. He used that time to recall everything about his beloved queen, instead.

Every single memory.

How he first laid eyes on her sitting next to khal Drogo, looking so terrified and innocent. She'd looked at him for guidance, friendship, protection. He recalled the many times she conveyed in him her fears and doubts about ruling, about her dragons, acquiring an army.

He could never forget how betrayed and angry she was when she knew of his treachery. She'd sent him away but he knew that it was the most painful thing she'd ever done. Most of all, he could never forget how she forgave and hugged him back into her arms after he was cured of the grey. She welcomed him as if he'd never left, her touch warm and familiar.

She'd kissed him in his chambers as a woman who meant it and he cradled her in his arms as a man, held her there and managed to think that she was his for a moment. It was the kindest thing the world has ever done for him.

Her name was on his lips and her face on his closed lids.

Daenerys. His student. His Queen. His Khaleesi. His love.

White hair and violet eyes, looking down at him with love and mercy and acceptance. She was his home and had given him the redemption he had been seeking all his life and for that, he is eternally grateful.

Unknown to him, a single tear fell on his cheek.

Jorah opened his lips with much effort, it was all he could do.

Out came a word. A breath.

"Khaleesi"

Then he succumbed into the comfort of darkness.

"Khaleesi"

She gave a start.

When she turned, it was only Tyrion looking at her seriously with his hands clasped in front of him.

"That sounded weird on my tongue" he noted, "But it felt powerful"

She gave him a confused look "And it sounds strange to hear it from you. You never call me by that title"

Daenerys watched as he walked towards her and joined her in the castle balcony that opened up to face King's Landing. She had been standing here for quite a while, watching the bustling city go about its usual routine, and hoping to see if any more men have managed to come back from the battle that commenced earlier that day.

"It is powerful" she said, smiling gently "That title has been used to name a khal's wife, but I managed to redefine the meaning behind it. A khaleesi is a woman who is capable of leading a khalasar even without a khal to support her"

He was merely looking at her as she explained, but he can see right through it. The sadness and longing never left her eyes. When he focused his gaze on her hands, they were grasping the balcony tightly.

"You are worrying over nothing" observed Tyrion sharply

"Is it nothing?" she countered almost a little desperately "If it was truly nothing, they'd…he'd…be here already"

"Standing here and waiting won't suddenly make Mormont return to you any faster" Tyrion sighed "Why don't you join everyone in the throne room? You have managed to reunite families together. You should see what you have done for the people"

She shook her head.

"No to seeing the good you've done?" he asked, surprised. "If I may be so frank with you—"

"You may not" she said, cutting him off "I have grown tired of your counsel, Lord Tyrion. Everything I put my mind into sounds wrong to you. Tell me, am I always bound by wrong decisions or are you just compelled to counter everything with an opposition?"

"Everyone is bound by wrong decisions" her right hand answered "But everyone is bound by right ones, too. And my opposition does not indicate anything except genuine concern for your welfare and the welfare of the people"

Daenerys was barely listening. Her eyes were scanning the streets of King's Landing, watching signs of horses making its way to the castle. Alas, no such thing occurred among the streets.

"Your grace?" Tyrion said, "You are distracted"

She sighed in resignation before turning back to him "What were you saying?"

"What you did today: reuniting families, providing justice after trial, is just the start to a promising rule under a new regime. This is what you have wanted for so long. Why are you not filled with enthusiasm at these very notions?"

"Because at this moment, I want nothing more than to see Jorah and Jon Snow come back to me safe and sound. Is it too much to ask?"

She had asked Greyworm earlier what had happened. The unsullied reported that they had covered everything on the battle plan, just as Jorah instructed. But when the unsullied started releasing the hostages, more brotherhood started coming and their troops divided.

Jon Snow had ordered Greyworm to bring back the hostages as well as the captured criminals before the queen while they stay back and kill the remaining ones.

She can only shake her head in dismay. Half of her thought of flying there herself to scan the forest for her knight. But it might only make matters worse.

"I never should have allowed them to go" she sighed, "Every second of their absence makes me worry even more"

Tyrion cannot stand seeing the queen look this pitiful as she looked so distraught. He can only look at her with sympathy.

Watching her now, his suspicions managed to heighten. Over the course of many days, something was amiss with Jorah Mormont and his queen. And these were the kind of suspicions that could potentially sabotage an already fortified northern alliance.

"Waiting here won't do anyone any good" he said gently. When she paid no heed to what he said, he offered his hand to her.

"What's this?"

"Come with me to the throne room, your grace"

Daenerys looked at Tyrion, the face of reason and counsel. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she has allowed her weakness to win again. Maybe the others were merely taking their time getting back. Tyrion was right. Of course he was.

So she took his hand albeit hesitantly, and he continued "The families want to extend their gratitude to you in person. As your right hand, I think you should do right and receive them with kindness"

The queen gave one last look at the view, one last scan on the streets before turning her back and letting Tyrion lead her into the throne room.

Jon Snow rode his horse as fast as he humanly could, hair whipping behind him and his eyes watering from the strong force of wind. Jorah Mormont was strapped behind him, bleeding and unconscious. And possibly…

No.

He refused to think of the inevitable conclusion. The queen would not be pleased if she knew that the knight's life was slipping away.

It was something that nobody foresaw. An arrow man rained down arrows upon arrows in his last desperate attempt to subdue the queen's fighters. Jon Snow had called out a warning to his new friend, but was too late when he witnessed an arrow pierce Jorah Mormont in the torso.

Jon cursed under his breath.

For the many weeks of his stay in the Red Keep he had noticed something between the queen and this particular knight. He recalled how his brothers continually teased him of being clueless about queues and hints about relationships when he was much younger, when everything had been perfect and the family he loved were blissfully unaware of the dark times ahead.

But Jon Snow knew he was not that dense. The king in the north had felt the tension, trust and deep-rooted companionship that was shared between Mormont and the queen. This had been a factor that made him think twice about marrying Daenerys. He knew he could never compete with that.

He stole a quick glance at the bleeding man on his horse. Still unconscious and unmoving.

Following behind him were his loyal northern men, their horses catching up to him as fast as they could. Jon Snow maneuvered the rein he was gripping on his palms, willing his horse to go faster. He wanted so much to wipe that drop of sweat falling on his temple. But he didn't stop.

Nothing was going to make him stop until he reached the queen.

She was back in her quarters as Missandei brushed her hair. She never cared to say it out loud, but having her hair brushed calmed her immensely. The chaos in her chest had dulled for a fragment, as she closed her eyes and sat quietly at the foot of her bed.

She had sent off the saved hostages earlier, talking to the grateful families in an assuring voice and noted Tyrion's approval from the corner of her eyes. This was her as the queen. And now that she was done with her proper duties, she retreated back into the body of a child, wanting to curl up and seek for comfort.

"Your grace―" her friend started

Every brush stroke felt like her mother's hand caressing her head with the warmth of love. She wanted to forget about her existence being associated as the queen. She wanted to disappear for a moment and leave behind all of it: Every pain, anxiety and heartache that this mission had cost her.

"Let us not talk" Daenerys replied, her eyes still closed, she wanted to stay inside her bubble of madness for just a minute longer. She was mad, mad, mad. And her heart ached tremendously.

For a split second, she wished they were back in Essos, with him by her side.

"As you wish, my queen"

Daenerys wanted to lull herself to sleep. She had enough for today and was almost sure that when she wakes, her knight would be there to greet her, injured and perhaps bloodied. She would scold him, but wouldn't be able to conceal her relief. And they would be again together, safely inside the castle so long as they lived.

A knock roused her from her dazed state. But even before she could say a word, Tyrion let himself in. He was panting terribly with a somber look on his face.

The queen's heart dropped. She stood up immediately, yanking the brush away from her hair and said in a voice that was almost not hers, "Is he―?"

"Gravely injured, your grace. Jon Snow rode with him here as fast as he could. They just arrived in the castle grounds—"

Daenerys ran.

Tyrion ran after the dragon queen. The walls gave the dull echo of her hurried footsteps as she breezed through every chamber and room to get to the castle grounds. Her men scurried after her, falling into step with her as they made their way out.

He'd caught the side of her face as she ran and he saw the wetness on her cheeks for a moment. Every single person knelt when they saw her run past them, before giving her a curious look for being out of character.

Tyrion was out of breath but still he ran, too many steps behind her. He wanted to yell out after her to calm down, to be rational, but he believes himself to be too out of breath.

Finally, when the grounds loomed closer and he caught site of Jon Snow laying a body down, his running slowed to a walk, his eyes disbelieving what it was he saw: Jorah Mormont terribly covered in his own blood, an arrow poking out from his stomach. His eyes were closed, faced relaxed. He continued not to move.

He refused to accept that this very knight whom he had been bickering with, who almost looked invincible with his armor, who looked proud and honored to stand and protect the queen he loves, now looked nothing like who he'd been.

Jon Snow bowed before the queen "He lost a lot of blood. I rode here as quick as I could"

Tyrion watched as Daenerys knelt before the body on the ground.

"No…" she sobbed "No…no…no. NO!"

Her white robes muddied and bloodied, black and red.

Tyrion watched her cling to Jorah's neck like a sobbing child and even then, the knight did not move. He watched her whisper something in his ears, in anguish as if she was scolding him. She rocked his body back and forth, begging him to open his eyes for her.

The castle was silent before her, watching how she changed from a dragon-mounting queen to something human.

Finally, Tyrion watched her check Jorah's pulse and her face contorting into a false hope.

"Call every Maester!" the queen yelled, tears streaming down her face "NOW!"

Everyone scurried to her heed and nearly tripped themselves to find all the maesters while Tyrion watched Daenerys transform in his very eyes.

Today, she was not a queen.

Today, she was simply a woman mourning over a possibly dead man—the man who truly loved her for who she was and who she'd become.

Author's Note: Hold your horses. There will be an epilogue. I am not that cruel.