Hey everybody! This is my first fanfic. I love the Jorah/Dany fandom so much, and wanted to take a stab at my own story. Full disclosure, I am NOT a writer- so please review, but be gentle. I haven't read the books so this is all show-verse. I hope you all enjoy.

I do not own any part of Game of Thrones. Please don't sue me.

CHAPTER 1 - The Bells:

Someone was shouting beneath her, "Ring the bells!" So they did. She heard them. The battle was over. The Lannister forces surrendered. The Golden Company was obliterated.

There, perched atop Drogon, she was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, had won both the Great War and the Last War. And yet, she had never felt more defeated. Her victory was hollow. She was alone.

The perimeter of Kings Landing burned around her. The air was filled with thick smoke and the screams of the small folk.

I've liberated them and they fear me anyway. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. Didn't they understand their oppression? Couldn't they see that Cersei was a tyrant, intent on nothing but her own survival?

If Cersei Lannister is not dead yet, she will be soon.

Dany had lost everything in breaking the wheel. Why did no one see that? Her people ran in terror from her. Jon could not love her. The North would never trust her. Varys betrayed her. Tyrion betrayed her. Missandei died in chains. Viserion was dead. Rhaegal was dead. Jorah…Jorah was dead.

He died for her. He died so she could have this moment. She wouldn't let him die for nothing.

He took the light with him and now everything is dark. It seemed that with him, all belief in her had disappeared. He was her strength, her dearest friend, her most trusted advisor, her… She was glad he could not see the destruction she would cause. Perhaps the good in her had died with Jorah.

She wished she could go back. She'd give anything to see him again. She needed his counsel now more than ever. She wanted to tell him he had been wrong about Tyrion, about Varys, and about her. She did not have a gentle heart. Not without him.

There is no going back.

Screams filled her ears, and she felt all the resentments, the loses, the betrayals boiling inside her. Why simply break the wheel when she could decimate it? One word. One word was all it would take, and then she could start over. Wipe the slate clean and forget the hurt and the emptiness she felt now. Burn them all her father had said, perhaps he had been right? After all, she had promised fire and blood… She felt the word form on her tongue. She felt her spite burning her from the inside out like the dragon she was. She looked towards the Red Keep. Damn Cersei Lannister. Damn King's Landing. Damn the wheel. Let it be fear then.

Then, before she could act, she heard him. Between the chime of the bells. Between the hoards of people. She heard him. She never thought she would hear him again. It couldn't be. He was dead. She had held his body. She had lit his pyre. And yet his voice rang out above the gruesome scene around them.

"KHALEESI!"

She couldn't see him, but it was him. Ser Jorah was somewhere in the crowd. Her breath quickened as she frantically searched the street below, but she couldn't find him. She just heard him again and again. Emotion began to overwhelm her and suddenly the world went dark.

She seemed to swim in and out of semi-consciousness. Her head was throbbing, her chest ached, her throat was raw, she felt hot and cold. How did she get here? What happened?

Images of the siege flashed across her mind. Fire and blood, fire and blood...fire and...what did I almost do? What have I become? Daenerys Targaryen... The Mad Queen...

The world seemed to have faded away very suddenly. The screams and smoke faded into deep and heavy darkness. Serious voices spoke in hushed tones around her. Jon? Tyrion? She only cared about one voice. The voice in the crowd.

"Jorah," she murmured. "Jorah. Please."

"Shhh. I'm here. Rest now," the voice would whisper back.

I must be dead, she thought. How else could she hear and feel him?

Slowly she began to find the surface of the darkness and came to. When she woke she was unsure of where she was or how she came to be there. Candles flickered around the chamber and the room seemed very hot. Heavy furs covered her, and something was obscuring the vision of her left eye. She flexed her fingers, carefully testing her body. Everything seemed to hurt. She raised her hand to gingerly touch the bandage that covered her forehead and eye. What in seven hells had happened to her? She tried to trace her mind back to the last thing she remembered. She had been on Drogon. She felt so empty and alone. Dark thoughts filled her mind, and she shuddered at what she had almost done. Dracarys. It would have been so easy… and then... Jorah in the crowd…

The gentle snoring coming from the chair near her bed alerted her to the presence of another person in the room.

It was him.

He was there at the side of her bed, sword at his side, book in his lap. Without thinking, she tried to get up and go to him, ignoring the pain that bloomed through her body when she did. She needed to touch him. She had to reach him before he was gone. Her entire body rebelled against her urgency- she felt dizzy, her breath pinched her lungs- but still, she stood from the bed. She took an unsteady step towards her sleeping bear. The pain in her right leg overwhelmed her, and she called out as her knees gave way. Jorah woke with a start and caught her before she could collapse, his face full of worry.

"Easy now." Gently he lifted her into his arms and sat with her on the bed. Wild sobs caught in her throat as she clung to him; desperately trying to make the phantom stay with her.

His blue eyes examined her with a mixture of deep concern and relief. "Careful, lass" he hushed. "It's alright, Daenerys. You're alright." Jorah rocked her in his arms, one hand cradling her head and the other rubbing her back- soothing her as one does a child after a nightmare. "You're safe. It's over. The war is over. You took King's Landing. You're in the Red Keep. Everyone is safe." Pressed against his chest as she was, she could hear his heart beating. She couldn't believe it.

"Jorah… But how? You can't… I… don't- it can't be real." Tears filled her eyes and her sobs threatened to choke her. What kind of cruel trick was this? She nuzzled herself deeper into his arms, desperately needing proof that he was real. Proof that he wouldn't disappear leaving her alone again.

"Gently. Don't upset yourself." He placed a cool palm to her cheek.

"Have I gone mad?"

"No, Khaleesi." He almost sounded exasperated.

"But you're dead. I watched you die. It's not possible. Your body was burn-"

"Time enough for that later." Jorah tried to settle her.

"You can't-"

"How are you feeling? Did you hurt yourself when you stood?"

"What? No. How can you-" she was growing increasingly more agitated.

"Khaleesi, please be gentle with yourself. Your injuries are not fully healed. Please." His eyes pleaded with her to believe him.

"I don't understand." Jorah laid her back on the bed, adjusting the pillows so she could sit up more easily. He continued to hold her hand as if knowing she needed the reassurance that he was truly there before her.

"I don't fully understand it myself. There will be plenty of time to explain later. But I swear to you that you are not mad. I am here, Khaleesi. This is real and you are safe. That is all that matters right now." He lifted her bruised hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles to prove his point.

For a moment they sat in pregnant silence. The silence that comes between two people when both have far too much to say. They had always been able to communicate with their silences and shared looks.

I missed you.

I missed you too.

"I should go fetch Samwell Tarly. You've been asleep for days. I'm sure he'll want to conduct a more thorough examination of your condition now that you're awake." Jorah moved to stand.

"Please, don't go. I can't lose you again." Panic filled her voice, and she clung even harder to his hand, pulling him back to the bed.

Never again, his eyes said.

"I will only be gone a moment, I promise. It's important that he see you while you're awake." At this, he stood from the bed, but not before giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"My memory feels so cloudy. So many pieces seem to be missing. What happened?"

"Unburnt you may be, but invincible you are not," Jorah said with a kind smirk as he fastened his sword belt around his waist. "You fell from Drogon. He caught you before you could hit the ground, but…you gave us all quite a scare." And from the look in his eyes, she could tell her injuries must have been more substantial than they appeared now.

"Only a moment." She nodded her assent as he turned and left the room.

She was alone again, however, the emptiness that had consumed her for weeks seemed to be fading. She had so many questions but did not yet know how to ask them. All she knew was somehow Jorah had returned to her once again.

She prayed to the Old Gods and the New that it wasn't a trick.

Thanks for reading! I anticipate this story will be 5-6 chapters long, but who knows? I promise to explain Jorah's survival, but it will involve fudging some character arcs a bit. Bear with me as I learn by doing.