"I had two queens to convince." But only one that he could trust to rescue him when everything became dire. "It wasn't the best conditions, but there was a sort of freedom there that doesn't exist anywhere else." But no, he really didn't miss it all that much. The cold, the rancid food, the scrambling for his life. A part of him preferred this quiet existence, even with its troubles.
He had expected pain that mirrored the loss of Viserion in her eyes, but there was only a sad acceptance. He could remember how she had warned him that she was unable to have children at his bedside, in what seemed to be an attempt to offer him an out. It hadn't been enough to shake his faith in her or his desire to be with her.
He tried to picture her pregnant and on horseback, but the only image he could conjure was of her in Winterfell, wrapped in furs and carrying his child. "While on horseback?" He teased her, squeezing her hand.
"And you took one of her knights." She misses her old bear, who had seen so very much with her. She misses him like one must miss a limb. Separated for so long, reunited briefly, and now he sleeps... "Thank you for returning him in one piece. Can't say the same for you, though."
He'd survived his own trials north of the Wall, and the memory of it makes her quick to look on to other topics of conversation.
"You invite trouble with those sorts of questions, my lord." Her lips quirk. "In the mornings, mostly. Sometimes when the khalasar came to a halt and the smell of meats roasting drifted on the breeze. I couldn't lose my stomach before all my people, that's weak, you know."
He still wasn't certain what to feel about Jorah. He was a man that Daenerys trusted and held very dear to her heart. But it was hard to forget the things he had heard from the former Lord Commander and his father, Lord Stark However, they had fought together and he knew better than most, you find your true friends on the battlefield.
"You don't need to thank me. He is a good warrior. I think he would have returned without my help. He seems to do that." That was the impression he was given, at least.
"The Dothraki remind me of the Free Folk, their way of life and the way they view weakness. We had to climb the Wall once with nothing but pick axes and rope."
The lines around her eyes soften just a bit at the mention of Jorah's stubbornness. It certainly was a point of contention when she'd banished him, but it's clear he's devoted to her. That loyalty, that her old bear still fights for her and in her name, well... there were very few like him.
"I know," she softly says, "He'd been with me since the start. It's entirely likely he'd have crawled back to the wall, if need be."
And because she's stood atop the Wall, Jon now gets a look from her. "You what?"
He nodded, having seen how deep the relationship was between them and well aware of how much she relied on Jorah. There was so much about the man that confused Jon. Not only his past as a slaver, but his affection and dedication to Daenerys. Though it was his certainty and mention of children that had left Jon stupefied. There was more to the statement than a simple passing of the torch, but beyond the Wall, Jon wasn't sure what that meaning was.
"He isn't what I expected." Which was probably the only thing he could take from all of this. The stories he heard had been told by a hurt father and a warden that held honor and loyalty firmly. But life wasn't skewed so rigidly and Jorah wasn't evil, he was simply flawed.
"It was when I was living with the Freefolk. They were trying to go south and the only way they could was by climbing the Wall. We did it together."
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He had expected pain that mirrored the loss of Viserion in her eyes, but there was only a sad acceptance. He could remember how she had warned him that she was unable to have children at his bedside, in what seemed to be an attempt to offer him an out. It hadn't been enough to shake his faith in her or his desire to be with her.
He tried to picture her pregnant and on horseback, but the only image he could conjure was of her in Winterfell, wrapped in furs and carrying his child. "While on horseback?" He teased her, squeezing her hand.
no subject
He'd survived his own trials north of the Wall, and the memory of it makes her quick to look on to other topics of conversation.
"You invite trouble with those sorts of questions, my lord." Her lips quirk. "In the mornings, mostly. Sometimes when the khalasar came to a halt and the smell of meats roasting drifted on the breeze. I couldn't lose my stomach before all my people, that's weak, you know."
no subject
"You don't need to thank me. He is a good warrior. I think he would have returned without my help. He seems to do that." That was the impression he was given, at least.
"The Dothraki remind me of the Free Folk, their way of life and the way they view weakness. We had to climb the Wall once with nothing but pick axes and rope."
no subject
"I know," she softly says, "He'd been with me since the start. It's entirely likely he'd have crawled back to the wall, if need be."
And because she's stood atop the Wall, Jon now gets a look from her. "You what?"
no subject
"He isn't what I expected." Which was probably the only thing he could take from all of this. The stories he heard had been told by a hurt father and a warden that held honor and loyalty firmly. But life wasn't skewed so rigidly and Jorah wasn't evil, he was simply flawed.
"It was when I was living with the Freefolk. They were trying to go south and the only way they could was by climbing the Wall. We did it together."