I Don't Own Game of Thrones, the Song of Ice and Fire or any of their Characters

It Only Gets Worse

Daenerys

"Thank you, come again!" Daenerys says to the customer's retreating back. The door shuts making the bell on the top ding and she lets out a sigh of relief and rests her chin on her palm. " Please don't."

A chuckle came from her left as her coworker put down a box of contents. "Back again, eh?"

Daenerys eyed the red-head with annoyance. "Honestly, Sansa, I don't know what the man wants me to say. 'Yes, sir, I know you asked for the pastry to be cold when you received it even though it just came out of the oven, like they do every morning. Here, let me cool it down with my icy stare.'?"

Sansa tilted. "Like the one you're giving me now?"

She wasn't amused. "That's not funny."

"It is too!" Sansa chuckled, opening the boxes. "My sister has the same look whenever her ex calls."

"How is Arya by the way?" Daenerys asked.

"She's good! She's taken up fencing again."

She smiled. "Oh that's great! How is she doing? I remember you telling me she took some classes before High School."

Sansa nodded. "She's a little rusty, but she's picking up very fast. How about you? Have you applied for more courses this semester?"

Daenerys frowned slightly, fiddling with a strand of her silver hair. "Yes, about that."

"Dany…" Sansa started.

"I can't go to school full time while working two jobs." She argued. "It's too much, so I'll just have put off Art school for a little longer."

Sansa scowled. "You've been putting it off for over ten years now. You're almost thirty!"

That made Daenerys roll her eyes. "Thank you for reminding me."

"You can just quit one of the jobs!" She reasoned. "And by one, I don't mean this one because I would miss you too much. Come on, Dany, you've wanted to be a professional photographer for as long as I've known you!"

"Longer in fact." She said. "I can't even afford a decent camera, Sansa, how am I going to afford to pay for classes? And I can't quit "

The redhead thought for a moment. Then a gleam appeared in her eyes. "You can rent one from the electronic store. The fees aren't so bad and as long as you return it in pristine condition and on time, so there's no worry."

"I appreciate the advice, Sansa, but I don't think it will work." Daenerys started to wipe down the counter. "I have enough payments to keep up with as it is."

Sansa huffed. "Don't you ever have a day off?"

"Sure!" She defended. Then muttered. "On Sundays when both places are closed."

"I swear, Dany, you can't keep paying off your brother's debts all your life!"

"Shhh!" She hissed, looking around. Luckily none of the customers were paying attention. "Speak a little louder, will you? I don't think the rest of London could hear!"

"Oh tush." Sansa waved her hand. Then in a lower voice. "Viserys is sucking you dry for every penny you have and he's never worked a day in his life."

Daenerys frowned. She knew she was right. "What else am I supposed to do, Sansa? He's the only family I have left. I can't just abandon him."

"How about I do it for you?" Sansa offered, making Daenerys hit her with a hand towel. "Just tell me where and when." Daenerys laughed. "Seriously, Dany, why don't you come stay with Arya and me? She wouldn't mind."

She smiled at the thought. "Gee, that sounds nice." No more of Viserys' nonsense or paying off his debts. She could actually do what she wanted instead of dreading another failed 'Get Rich Quick" scheme. "But I can't. I'd never be able to sleep at night wondering what messes he's gotten himself into."

Sansa wiped her hands on her apron and grumbled. "One of these days he's going to get into too much debt that money won't be able to save him."

The tiny bell rung again, signaling the arrival of a new customer. The two girls stood up straight and greeted him with a smile. "Good morning!" Daenerys greeted. "Welcome to Sophie's Cafe!" But when she finally got a good look at the new patron, she was struck stupid.

The man who walked in was certainly handsome to say the least. He looked to be somewhere between his mid to late 40s. Six-foot-one, lightly tanned with blonde hair swept back, blue eyes as bright as the morning sky, a little shy of a beard, wearing a pair of dark blue bootcut jeans, white dress shirt, brown oxfords, and dark grey pea jacket.

Daenerys stared at him for a few seconds before Sansa elbowed her in the kidney, bringing her back to Earth. She cleared her throat and smiled in greeting. "Good Morning, Sir. What can I get you?"

The handsome stranger regarded her with a bemused expression before turning his eyes to the chalkboard behind her. "Forgive me." He purred. "This is my first time at this establishment and I'm unfamiliar with the menu." He returned his gaze to her, a flirtatious smile stretching his lips. "What do you recommend?"

His voice made her knees weak. It was soft as satin but also rough with hidden strength. It took her a moment before she remembered he'd just asked her a question. "Ah, well." She took a quick glance at the menu. "Maybe something simple like sweet cinnamon milk tea?" She turned back to him. "It tastes good with biscuits. Especially choco leibniz. We actually make our own." She reached into one of the baskets and pulled out a small plastic bag full of them.

He rests his arms on the counter and leans into her personal space. His face so close to hers it made her forget to breathe. "Did you make these biscuits?"

Don't blush! Whatever you do; don't blush! She nodded. "I did, yes."

Satisfied, he plucks the bag out of her hand. "I'll take them. And the tea too."

"Tea?" She asks, making him raise his brow. Then she remembers. "Oh right! Umm, what size would you prefer?"

"A medium will suffice." He tells her. She gives him the total and he hands her his a card.

She swipes it. "May I have your name, Sir?"

He grinned. "Jorah."

She nodded, hoping her heart would stay in her chest. "It will be ready in a few minutes. Please, sit anywhere you like while I make it for you." He nods with a thank you and walks away, taking a seat by the window.

Daenerys wasn't sure how long she stared at him until Sansa came by and whispered in her ear. "Close your mouth or you'll catch flies." Her jaw snapped shut. "Don't you have tea to make?"

She shook herself out of her stupor. "I'm working on it!" It didn't take much to make sweet cinnamon milk tea, so she didn't know why it took her a couple of tries before she actually got it right. Once she put the finishing touch of cinnamon on top, she called out, "Jorah?"

He'd been looking out the window but turned his head when she called him. He stood up and walked back to the counter. When he took the tea, "Thank you."

Daenerys fought to keep from swooning at his voice. "You're welcome. Do come again."

He walked to the door and opened it, letting the bell jingle. "Will do, Daenerys." When her eyes widened; he grinned and walked out.

Shocked, she reached for Sansa and pointed at the closed door. "Did you hear that?"

Sansa nodded. "Yes, he said 'thank you'."

"Not that!" Daenerys said. "How did he know my name?"

Sansa rolled his eyes. "Well he might have gotten a clue from the name tag you have on."

She looked down on her apron and her shoulders dropped. "Oh right. What's the matter with me?"

Her coworker laughed pulled out more cups. "If I had to guess, I'd say you were attracted to the new stranger."

Daenerys looked at her with a small smile. "I think you're right. He was handsome, wasn't he?"

"Ask for his cell number if he comes in again."

"Oh no!" She waved her hand. "Out of the question. I'm celibate, remember?"

Sansa narrowed her eyes. "Now, Dany, you have let somebody in sometime."

"No thank you." She protested. "A relationship usually means that it will eventually lead to sex. Not something I'm interested in."

"You just haven't met the right one yet." She giggled.

Daenerys raised a brow. "How is John doing?" Sansa cleared her throat and turned away. There was a buzz in her pocket and she pulled out her phone. "Bugger."

"What is it?" Sansa asked.

She sighed. "It's my job at the restaurant, one of the other waitresses has a fever and they want me to come in early today."

"When?"

She checked the time and groaned. "At noon." Which was less than a half hour away.

Sansa patted her back. "Go ahead. It's slow today. I can cover it."

Daenerys looked at her, unsure. "Are you sure, Sansa? Ellen isn't due for another two hours."

She shrugged. "I'll manage. Go."

She enveloped her in a hug and ran towards the back. "Thank you, Sansa! I owe you one!"

"You'll owe me a girl's night!" She heard call behind her.

"Deal!"

"Beware, Dany, we have the blonde arse himself at table ten in your section." Her fellow waitress Missandei told her when she came into the kitchen bringing in some empty plates.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes and peaked through the kitchen window to indeed see the face of every member of staff's least favorite guest. Joffrey Baratheon. "Fan-fucking-tastic." Nothing could please this boy. Spoiled rotten to the very core. No matter what happened there was always something wrong. The food didn't taste right. It took too long. Why are there leaves on my plate?

Everyone's has had to deal with him once. And he never tipped. If it wasn't for the automatic charge with the large party that he would sometimes come with, we wouldn't see a penny out of him.

"Who's the lucky girl this week?" Daenerys asked.

Missandei peaked. "Looks like the heiress Margaery Tyrell."

"Maybe she's nicer than his usual arm candy."

He came in every week with a new hussy on his arm. Treated the staff like dirt. And never had anything nice to say.

Missandei gave her a pitiful glance. "Good luck."

"I'm going to need it." Daenerys replied. She'd already worked over ten hours today, covering for the girl who called in sick. What's another hour or two of torture? She straightened her vest, pulled at the cuffs of her sleeves, wiped down her pants, grabs a basket of breadsticks, puts on her best smile, and went straight into the lion's den. When she reached the table she greeted them. "Good evening, welcome to Stefano's! My name is Daenerys and I will have the pleasure of serving you this evening. Can I get you something to drink?"

The blonde brat didn't even lift his eyes from the menu. "We'll take a bottle of your best champagne."

She places down the breadsticks. "Right away, Sir." She left for the back and took out a ice bucket and pulled it out on cart. She brought it back and showed it to him for good measure. "How is Dom Pérignon, Sir?"

"Fine, fine. Just pour us our glasses." His eyes looked up at her in open challenge. "If you can manage?"

Biting her tongue, she kept smiling. "Of course, Sir." She pulls the cork out without trouble and pours them their champagne. "Do you need more time or are you ready to order?"

His date Margaery speaks up first. "I'll have the grilled fish with artichoke caponata."

Daenerys wrote it on her pad and took the menu from before turning to Joffrey. "How about you, Sir?"

"The braised chicken all'arrabbiata." He flips his menu shut and nearly throws it at her. "Make sure it comes out fast too."

Oh I hate you already . "As you wish, Sir." She walks away and quickly put their order into the system. Whilst waiting she tends to her other tables. Making sure their food is satisfactory, that their drinks are full. Then she hears a snap of fingers and sees the man himself waving her over.

When she makes it to him, his first question is, "Can you move any slower? Nevermind, where's our food? We've been waiting here for a while now."

She checks her watch, her eyebrow going up at the entire eight minutes that have passed. "I'll check on it right now, Sir."

"Be quick about it." He snaps.

Fighting not to roll her eyes, she nods and heads back to the kitchen. "Poirot, his royal highness wants to know how much longer till his food will be ready. He's withering away into the fatest nothing I've ever seen."

The large french chef looks up at her and grins. "I'm just putting on the garnish, tesoro ." His head is bent over the two plates and then lifts them into the window. "Here you are!"

" Graci , chef." She takes the plates and heads back to the table. "You ask and I shall serve. The grilled fish with artichoke caponata for you, ma'am." The girl takes it gratefully. "And the braised chicken all'arrabbiata for you, Sir."

As Daenerys put the plate in front of him, he grasps her wrist. "What is this? "

She tries not to yank her arm out of his grip as she looks at him with confusion. "Your order, Sir. The braised chicken all'arrabbiata."

He scoffed, "I wait forever for this?" he shoves the plate away. "I'm not eating this shite."

Well wasn't that just great. "Would you like me to have the chef make you another, Sir?"

He let go of her wrist and shoved the plate back into her hands. "Take it back. I'll just have a side salad. You can't possibly mess that up."

She nods and turns to walk away. But, his foot went out in front of hers and everything happened as if in slow motion. She falls to her knees and the plate slips from her fingers. It lands on the ground and shatters. The food explodes and the sauce from the chicken lands on her face. She feels more feet bump into her side but whoever it was didn't fall over. But they couldn't stop the contents of their tray falling on top of her, ruining her clothes and into her hair.

The entire restaurant goes dead quite. Not a sound from anyone or anything except from the sizzling sound from the kitchen.

Daenerys dares to lift her head up to see every person in the restaurant, both coworkers and customers, was looking straight at her. There's a giggle behind her, coming from the Joffrey. Then he bursts into a fit of laughter. Pretty soon everyone else in the restaurant joins in. Echoes of spreading all over the room at my predicament. Everyone giggling and pointing fingers at her. Some of them even taking out their phones to take videos and pictures.

She hangs her head as the embarrassment sweeps over her entire being. But she then feels gentle hands on her arms and is being helped to her feet. Followed by a soothing voice. "You're alright. Up you go."

Daenerys looks up to see that it's the same handsome stranger that she'd met earlier that morning at the cafe. Jorah. He was wearing the same clothes as he had when she saw him a few hours ago. There was no way she couldn't stop herself from blushing this time. Making her almost glad for being covered in sauce and peppers.

He wasn't laughing like the other patrons were. Instead, he looks at her with an expression that could only be described as pity. He pulls out a handkerchief from inside his jacket and hands it to her. "Here,"

"Thank you." She takes it from him and dabs at her dirty face.

"Daenerys!" Shouts from her right, and she flinches. Its her boss. "What do you have to say for this?" He asks gesturing to the mess around her.

She sighs. "That it was an accident, Petyr. I'd lost my footing and fell." She knew he wouldn't believe her if she'd told him the truth.

Speaking of which, Joffrey spoke up again. "I've never had such lousy service here, Petyr. I expected more from your restaurant."

"My deepest apologies, Mr. Baratheon. Your dinner is on me tonight." He offers him with a kind smile.

Joffrey scoffed. "I disagree. Looks like it's on her." He started laughing again and Daenerys hung her head in shame.

Petyr crosses his arms and scowls at hers. "Well considering the humiliation you've brought to this place of fine dining and to me, I don't think you have what it takes anymore, Daenerys."

She gasps, knowing what's coming. "Petyr, please, I'm sorry. I need this job!"

He shakes his head. "Remove your belongings from your locker and leave. You may pick up your final check at the end of the week." He holds out his hand. "Give me your apron. You are dismissed. Your tips as well. That should cover the broken dishes."

"But…" She lets her hand fall to her side and takes out all of her cash tips and places them in Petyr's hand. Then she unties her apron, handing that to him too. With one last glance at Jorah, who's expression had become unreadable, she heads towards the back. She fights back her tears as she clears out her locker. Ripping off her name tag and throwing it in the trash as she leaves the restaurant behind.

Little did she know that a pair of blue eyes were watching her as she left.

There was hardly anyone on the bus on the way and the driver didn't say anything about her messy appearance. Which Daenerys was grateful for. She'd been humiliated enough. The thirty minute bus ride felt like hours. She couldn't get home fast enough. Once it finally got to her stop, she hopped off, bidding a farewell to to the driver as she walked the rest of the way to her family home.

The lights were off, so it meant Viserys was either not home or already in bed. Which didn't bother her in the least. She did not have the patience to deal with him and his problems tonight. She just wanted to was wash this junk off and fall into bed.

She walked up to the second floor of their house, disposed of her dirty uniform and went into the restroom. She wrapped herself in a towel and took her hair out of it's ponytail as she waited for the water to get warm. All she could think about was what she was going to do when she looked for a new job. Stefano's was a five star restaurant in London and with all those phones pointed at her, she knew whatever future career she had as a server was over. Once the water turned hot, she let towel drop and got in. The hot spray rinsing out all of gunk and residue from her silver hair. A strange trait that everyone in her family on her father's side had. She felt so sticky and gross. And humiliated. She hadn't felt like this in years. The last time was fifteen years ago.

She shook her head, forcing the memory away before it could haunt her again. Once she was certain she was clean, she turned off the shower and toweled off. She combs her wet hair into a braid, changes into her pajamas, and then slips into bed. Her head hits her pillow with a moan of regret. It was only Monday. Could this week get any worse?