This chapter has been edited due to content. I made minor edits in the chapter. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.
When I had gathered my thoughts, I started to make my way to where I had last seen Daenerys. Her marriage should go smoothly not just for the stability of Westeros, but because she deserved happiness. This war with the dead would take a toll on all of us. It might be many years until something truly good happened again for my Khaleesi.
A crowd was starting to gather in the distance and I grew curious. The skirmish hadn't been exciting which must mean the Northerners and Dothraki had found some amusement for themselves. I should go and serve Daenerys, not join in on some childish game the others had found. And yet my feet went toward the crowd. My gait was odd as part of me was trying to go to Khaleesi. Finally I righted myself and walked calmly toward the thickening crowd.
"Jorah, I've been looking for you." Tyrion said and stood in front of me. "Do you want some more wine? I think we all need some wine."
I stopped and noticed something off in his voice. It was normal for him to try and get me drunk, but this was different. There was panic in the way he spoke. His eyes also showed signs of fear. Something had happened during the skirmish.
Khaleesi!
"Jorah!" Tyrion yelled after me.
If I hadn't left him behind he would've most likely told me to prepare myself. He would've told me to be calm and to not overreact. I didn't need to hear that right now. My mind started going over all the horrible ways she could've been harmed. The cuts and bruises that must now lined her body. I tried to calm myself but nothing helped.
I pushed violently through the crowd. They must've let me be so mad due to either respecting me or the shock. Daenerys was harme-why wasn't there someone going to help? No one in the sea of bodies around me looked like they had any medical experience. They were allowing the chance of infection because of mere shock?
Once I saw my love I knew why no one was going to help her. One of the arrows that I hadn't paid much attention to was now sticking out through her throat. If someone had removed the arrow she would only have died quicker. As is, she had already lost a lot of blood. The mix of snow and grass around her had a reddish tint to it. But the most painful thing to look at was her face. Daenerys' usual confident expression was replaced by one of pure fear. Her eyes locked onto mine and I broke.
She was supposed to sit on the Iron Throne and take Westeros into a great future. She was to build a world that was better than the one around me. I realized I had fallen down and taken Daenerys into my arms. She looked at me and I saw a small look of happiness. I would be the last thing she saw. I would be the last one she felt. This wasn't right. I was older than her and so she should've outlived me. It was her who should be crying over my dying body. This wasn't right. The more I felt the moment the more pain I felt. Once I realized I was screaming I stopped. Or at least I tried to as moans kept escaping my lips.
"I have loved you more than anything." I managed to say. "I...I...I don't know what to do, Khaleesi. I swore to protect you. If only..."
No, that was foolish. Even if I was by her side there was every chance I would've failed to block the stray arrow. No, that was worse. There had to have been a way to prevent this from happening. Something like this just didn't happen. Daenerys could've been protected. It had to have been my fault for leaving her side. Maybe I could've blocked the arrow.
"Jo..." Daenerys said or maybe it was my imagination.
"Don't speak, Khaleesi." I told her. "Don't strain yourself, my love."
"Jo...I...I..."
For a minute more she remained silent. Her blood came down onto me as she tried to regain some of her strength. Even at the end she was fighting. Even when all hope was lost for her she fought. She would've made a good queen for Westeros. She would've helped win against the dead and later defeated Cersei. Now all the good was being wasted because of something. I didn't know what the something was yet.
"Jo...sweet bear, I love you." Daenerys said or maybe I just imagined it. "I love you."
One of her hands struggled to stay open and I placed my own inside hers. I could feel the muscles in her hand attempt to squeeze but failed. I squeezed for her. She reached up and so I leaned down. A trembling finger of hers touched one of the tears running down my cheeks. I hadn't felt it as my only concern was her.
"I love you, Daenerys Stormborn." I replied by forcing words out through the pain. "I have always loved you. I have been jealous of your lovers who have managed to feel the full depth of your devotion. But I pushed through those feelings because, above all, I want you to be happy. I would've died for you. I should've died for you. If I can still...still die to bring you back I will."
"Don't...I need you." Daenerys said with her dwindling strength. "I have lov...jus...too scared to sa...it."
"No!" I cried out. "No, don't leave me! Daenerys! Daenerys! Khaleesi!"
I cried and shouted loudly as I felt her heart beats fading. No, no. This was not the way it was supposed to be. I needed her. Now she was too weak to move and I held back my emotions until she faded from this world. Once she was gone I continued to yell and cry out. I sounded more like a wounded bear than a man.
When I could finally focus on the people around me I was confused. It had seemed like Daenerys and I had been alone with no one around. All that had existed were me and her. My eyes went from one face to the next without really seeing anything.
"Murderer!" I yelled out and pointed to Jon Snow. "If you hadn't foolishly suggested our queen go with you, then this could've been avoided. She would've been safe on Drogon. She would still be alive today if you hadn't been thinking with your ****!"
It had to be his fault. He was the one who suggested she take the King's Road. It had to be his fault. It couldn't be my fault or hers. Now I had a line of reasoning I could easily follow. If I had only tried harder to convince her to ride Drogon she would've live. But the true blame lay on Jon who had suggested the idea. Yes, that was a good line of reasoning to follow. I liked it. The pain was still there but it was somehow lessened.
"I think what Jorah me-" Tyrion began.
"I said what I meant, Imp!" I yelled.
I hadn't meant to yell at my friend but I couldn't help it. Rage was much easier to deal with than sadness. Sadness made you feel helpless while rage gave you a purpose. To his credit Tyrion back away. I'd most likely be hearing about his true feelings later. I turned back to Jon and saw sadness on his face. A small tear went down one cheek. That was much less than the torrent coming out of my own eyes. His mouth opened and then closed as he chose his words carefully. Or maybe his mouth was just opening out of reflex.
"Ser Jorah Mormont," Jon began. "I did not intend for this to happen."
"Of course not." I growled. "You were thinking with your ****. You were thinking about the pleasure you'd derive from Daenerys with no care for her safety."
"It was just a stray arrow."
"It was enough!"
One stray arrow that had missed his mark. Had it been aimed at Jon and he had dodged it? Was that the guilt he now carried with him? Why did his safety concern me? I shouldn't care for him at this moment. Thankfully my thoughts soon turned to hating him again. It would be so much better if he was dead and not her. He shouldn't be living and breathing the air that she couldn't.
"No one thought anything of the skirmish." Jon pleaded with me. "The arrows weren't aimed at anyone."
"And no one thought to look for a stray arrow?"
"Why weren't you the first one by her side?"
The only thing stopping me from attacking him was Daenerys' corpse in my arms. If she hadn't been there I would have killed Jon with no thought of the future. Without Daenerys there was no future for me. Nothing would have any meaning without her. The most aggravating thing about Jon's statement was the fact he said it so calmly. He didn't have any rage behind his words but mere annoyance. It was as if he was reprimanding a small child.
Jon bent down to sit beside me but he soon retracted that action. He could see in my eyes how angry I was. Or maybe he saw the pain. His eyes...his eyes saw much clearer than mine. I hated him for that. I could hardly see through mine.
"The dead." Tyrion said.
I knew what he was hinting at. If Daenerys wasn't burned then she could come back to life. If she came back to life she could become an enemy I'd have to face. I wasn't strong enough to attack the woman I loved. The Night King would use that to his advantage and I'd die. Death didn't sound like a threat but hurting the living pained me. I had shamed my House already, I didn't need to bring it anymore shame.
"Yes," I agreed. "She deserves to be burned on a pyre. She was always more Khaleesi than queen."
An hour passed as the pyre was set up. There was much talk about if she would actually burn or not. She would burn, I was sure of that. Her unique ability was only something she had in life. In death, she was affected by the flames just like anyone else. During all the commotion I never let go of Daenerys. If I let go of her, her death became so much more real. Letting her corpse go meant I had to move on and live without her.
"Jon did not mean to kill Daenerys." Davos said as he sat beside me. "He wouldn't do that to her."
"It was him who suggested traveling on the King's Road." I argued.
"And it was her who agreed. Jorah, you are going to have to accept that Daenerys' death wasn't anyone's fault. It wasn't yours, Jon's, or anyone else's. No one could've predicted a stray arrow from a minor attack would kill her."
"Someone has to be blamed for this."
I looked away from Davos and focused on Khaleesi. Maybe if I held her long enough she would come alive again. She had been in so many hopeless situations and came out of them all. She would rise again and I would be there to serve her. She had to rise again and sit on the Iron Throne.
"No one has to be blamed for it." Davos retorted. "Sometimes things happen."
"What about Shireen?" I sneered.
"Shireen didn't die by a stray arrow. She died because her father was a desperate man that believed the lies of a pretty face."
I was surprised when Davos didn't yell at me. He was a good Hand for Jon. Out of all the people in Westeros, he was one of the noblest. He had accepted his punishment from Stannis and had gone on to serve the Baratheon. I didn't know that much about him as we rarely spoke to each other. I tended to prefer a solitary life unless Tyrion forced me to talk with him.
"Why are you talking to me?" I asked. "Daenerys and Tyrion were the ones to talk to me about personal matters."
"Tyrion has certain limitations." Davos replied with a smile. "Besides, I don't think he wants to mourn Daenerys with you."
"He never hid his feelings about her before."
"Aye, but this is different. If he had come here to mourn with you, it wouldn't be respectful."
"The Imp is always full of surprises."
That was the last we spoke until the pyre was built. I slowly walked up to it and had to stop. This was the moment I would put Daenerys behind me. It wouldn't surprise me if her ghost never stopped haunting me. If I woke up in the middle of the night and saw a ghostly figure of her watching me. I didn't know what the afterlife brought, but there had to be something.
I felt the eyes of the others on me so I hurried up and put her on top of the pyre. I looked at her for the last time. Even in death she was regal with few that could match her beauty. It was so easy to imagine her waking up and looking at me. We would laugh about her apparent death and I could still be by her side. I could still serve her and have purpose.
Before I left her side I kissed her forehead gently as I took out the arrow from her neck. Others had come to try to touch Khaleesi, but I had stopped them. No one would touch her again. Jon, for reasons I didn't care to know, hadn't tried to come close to the woman he had loved. Poor excuse for a human and yet...yet I couldn't truly hate him.
"I want this made into a necklace for me." I told a Dothraki. "I need to be reminded of how I failed her at her moment of need."
The Dothraki woman didn't argue. I stood by Jon as everyone finished gathering around the pyre. All of the faces were either sad or confused. Some probably didn't care for Daenerys and were only confused how such a small thing could take down a powerful woman. It had only taken one moment of chance for her to die. It was a death that she did not deserve.
"You're no longer a man of honor." I said softly so only Jon could hear. "My father gave you Longclaw because you deserved it more than me. Now we are equals in our shames."
"You want me to give it to you?" Jon asked with surprise. "I didn't sell people into slavery. We're not equals."
"You're right. I wasn't there when my future bride needed me the most. You and her were supposed to rule the Iron Throne."
"Sometimes, Ser Jorah, you're unreasonable."
There was a strange expression on Jon's face. It was as if he was struggling to decide what to think. I wanted to yell at him as much as I wanted to embrace him. He was right, I was being unreasonable. But it was better to be unreasonable than to allow grief to plague me. For a moment I thought of abandoning my request. Father had given Jon Longclaw and I had to accept that. What would having my ancestral sword back do? It wouldn't bring back Daenerys which is the only thing I wanted.
I looked at Daenerys as the flames reached higher and higher. They went closer and closer to my love. Tears were still coming out of my eyes as I prepared to watch her body turn into ash. It would be best if she did as that would mean other means wouldn't have to be used. A body could come back to life but if it was in pieces, it wouldn't be a threat. The thought made me shiver as I imagined having to cut her body up to protect the living.
There was the noise of a scabbard being undone and then the weight of Longclaw was in my hands. Jon looked at me and I couldn't bring myself to continue looking at him. His face was gentle but I saw Daenerys dying in his eyes. I gave him my sword before putting the familiar scabbard on myself. My breathing calmed as the weight of my ancestral sword soothed me. Maybe I would thank him when I was calmer. Or maybe I would not give him the satisfaction.
The flames finally started to touch Khaleesi's skin and then consumed her. My eyes did not move from her body until it was nothing but ash. During that entire time I begged the gods to bring her back. I swore that I would do anything they asked. I would be anything they asked me to be. Try as I might I ended up having to let Daenerys go.
I turned to see that Jon hadn't moved either while everyone else but me had. His eyes weren't on the pyre, though, they were on me. He was looking at me with pity as if I were some broken thing. I didn't need his pity as it made me feel weak. It made me feel that no matter what I did, this pain would continue to rip and tear at me.
"You didn't need to stay here with me, Jon." I said sternly.
"I think I did." Jon replied. "If you're not careful you're going to be mourning the past. I held onto the memory of Ygritte when I shouldn't have."
"How did she die?"
"She was a wildling and was attacking the Night's Watch. She died in my arms."
For a brief moment we shared a look of pain and then I allowed the rage to consume me again. I walked away from him quickly so he couldn't say another word.
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