Chapter Text
Daenerys Targaryen was sick of men.
As the ruling monarch, she was expected to marry. The entire reason being that it would result in heirs, who could then continue the line. Of course, Daenerys knew that marriage or no, there would be no heirs in the traditional sense. And her and Tyrion were still butting heads on the best way to choose a successor.
But she was still expected to court, and for that courting to aid her in finding a high Lord who was worthy, and eventually to marry.
It was tradition after all.
But they were all the same.
Every time she thought she had found a man who wasn't only interested in her for her looks, or her title or the power she possessed with her dragons and armies, he proved his true colours within a few weeks.
Just like they all did.
Her men would find him visiting a brothel, paying whores when he had been given the honour of courting The Queen.
Or he would speak badly of her dragons.
Or she wouldn't like the manner he had around the common folk.
Some she struggled to make conversation with, and some she just felt awkward around. Others she decided she wouldn't lay with if they were the last men on earth.
No matter their affliction, none were suitable to her.
Jon Snow had been the last man to even come close to a suitor that she would have considered marrying. But then Jon had become recluse, he had practically thrown her to curb.
She wasn't exactly upset. She hadn't thought that there were any feelings between them, just a spark that had been worth exploring, one that had fizzled all too quickly.
But she could have settled with Jon.
Jon was like minded to her. He accepted her dragons, and he had honour. He had values. She never would have fallen in love with him, but they could have had a marriage that worked. One that would keep all of these men at bay who fawned over her for greed alone. They would have had a partnership, even if it was more of a friendship than anything else.
But as it was, Daenerys was left with poor choices. None of which she would marry, no matter how hard Tyrion pushed her to settle down.
And this was how she came to proposition her dearest friend.
Because everything she could have had with Jon, she could have that and more with Jorah. She had proved through her courting that there was much, much worse out there. And she had given up on the likelihood of ever falling in love.
Jorah had loved her for more years than Daenerys even knew. Perhaps from the day they had met? He already worshipped the ground she walked on, believed in her more than any other. He would treat her well, he would see being her husband as a great honour. He would never be found in the brothels, nor would he disrespect her dragons.
Daenerys knew she would have to lay with him, at the very least on the night of their wedding, to make the marriage official. And she feared it would be incredibly awkward. How many people had sex with their closest friend after all? But she would still rather him than any of the snivelling Lords she'd had to deal with of late.
He would treat her with respect, ensure her needs were tended to and not just his own. He would not do anything that would make her uncomfortable.
And she knew she could live a pleasant life with Jorah as her husband. They already shared silences comfortably. Their conversations flowed easily, freely. And she actually enjoyed listening to him telling her of his day, or reciting a tale of old.
"You called for me Khaleesi?" He asked, as his face appeared around her door.
"I did." She replied. "Come in, Jorah."
He entered the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
"Sit." She told him, gesturing to the seat opposite her.
She topped up her cup of Dornish red and filled another for him , sliding it across the table as he settled himself into the seat.
"I have a proposition for you." She announced, taking a sip of her drink before placing back down on the table in front of her.
"A proposition?" Jorah asked, watching her quizzically.
He rested a hand on the table beside his drink, yet he had yet to lift the cup, yet to drink a sip.
"Drink." Daenerys commanded, eyes narrowing.
"That is your proposition?" He asked, brow raised.
Daenerys smirked.
"You're not funny." She told him.
"Then why are you smiling Khaleesi?" He said with a smile of his own.
She hid her smirk behind the rim of her cup, taking another drink. In all honestly, she was a little nervous about what she was to propose to him. And of his answer. Taking mercy on her, Jorah finally lifted his cup, and took a gulp of wine.
When he lowered the cup back to the table, Daenerys spoke again.
"You are aware Tyrion has been encouraging me to court?" She asked him.
Jorah swallowed. She saw it in the bob at his throat.
"Aye." He answered.
"And you may also be aware that they are all -" she cut herself off, sighed heavily. "None of them are acceptable to me." She shook her head, worried her lip. "I could never be content with any of them, nevermind grow to love them."
"There aren't so many choices so soon after war." Jorah told her.
His eyes left her the moment she raised her eyes to meet his. She knew it was an uncomfortable discussion for him after all.
He took another drink, and Daenerys followed suit.
"There does not seem to be any choices, truth be told." She said after her drink, yet this time she held the cup.
The silence stretched.
Neither spoke for a time. It wasn't silent, for it never was in Kings Landing. The noise from the streets was always a muted rumble, the winter winds howled, the fire in hearth popped.
"I don't need love." She said at last, staring into the depths of her cup. "I just need a steady man. One who will treat me with respect, whom I can convese with comfortably. And none of those men can offer me that."
They both fell into silence again, as Jorah watched her carefully, wondering what proposition she was referring to.
She supposed she could offer a reward to find her the perfect man. Though she would have to send him away for that, and she would rather not truth be told. It would also be incredibly cruel, to send the man who loved her so completely, to find her the perfect husband.
Instead she looked up at him, met his eye as she stated:
"But you can."
Jorah, who had been lifting his cup to his lips, froze. The cup half way up to his mouth, stopped, held mid way as he watched her with a shocked expression. He hadn't been expecting that.
Daenerys gave him a moment to process her words.
The cup lowered, returning to its place on the table. Undrank. Jorah blinked. Cleared his throat. Blinked again.
"I don't understand." He stammered at last. "I can - ?"
"You have all of the qualities that I need in a husband." Daenerys confirmed.
"So, your proposition -?"
"Tyrion has organised for a few more Lords to come to the capital, to meet with me and see if the are -" She struggled to find the right words, but eventually continued. "adequate. If they are not." Or when, she thought to herself. "Then I propose you be my husband. If you are amenable?"
She watched him poignantly, and he squirmed under her gaze. Something she had rarely seen him do. His tongue snuck out from between his lips, sliding along them in order to bring some moisture back to them.
"I am not certain that is the most sensible idea Khaleesi."
"And why is that?" She asked, eyes watching him still.
"I am not -" he stuttered. "I mean. You -"
Jorah had always been rather eloquent with his words, had spoken with confidence and certainty. Yet it seemed a simple proposition could change that fact.
"Do you truly wish to see me tied to one of those men for the rest of my life?" She asked him. It was a harsh question. "A man who will disrespect me, be found in the brothels at the first chance he gets. Who will speak ill of my dragons, or turn his nose up at my efforts to support the small folk. Who I cannot stand to be around, never mind to talk to, or share a room with. A man that the thought of him laying a hand on me makes me feel queasy. Who would expect it of me, as his wife. And the Gods forbid he finds out I cannot give him an heir-"
She broke off, turned her face away from him. Her lip caught between her teeth. It was an old wound that did not often pain her so much anymore. But when it did, it felt like a newly formed injury, one that still bled with vigor.
Her hand rose to her forehead, pinching it as she stressed. Her eyes closed and she sighed.
"You know that I would never wish that kind of life on you." Jorah's voice filled her ears, yet her eyes remained closed. "But I also don't want you to feel trapped with me. Yes I would treat you well, would never expect anything of you. But I do not wish to deprive you of finding love Khaleesi."
She shook her head, her eyes opening and her hand falling to her chest, where it rested for a moment before lowering to the table. She clutched at her cup of wine, though did not raise it to her lips.
"I'm never finding love Jorah." She confessed. "I'm not certain it's even possible for me to feel such a thing."
He looked entirely crestfallen, and it was in that moment that she realised just how incredible this man was. The woman he had been in love with for almost as long as they had know one another, had offered herself to him in marriage. Yet he did not instantly agree, did not snap up the offer and sing it from the rooftops. There was no glee or gloating. Instead he was hesitant, he was uncertain. And it was not for his benefit, but for hers. He worried that if they were to wed, that she would never fall in love. And upon hearing that she did not believe that to be something in her future, it upset him.
No other man would ever react in such a way.
It was all the more reason why her choice was correct. It affirmed that he was the perfect match for her. And of course she needed to reassure him of one thing. She reached across the table, her hand grasping his where it still lay on the tabletop, next to his mostly untouched cup.
"I care for you Jorah, more than I could ever care for one of these political matches." Her eyes held his, and she saw the anguish leaving them. Saw a warmth trickling its way across the vast blue. "You have meant more to me, over all of these years, than I could even put into words."
There was deep emotion in her own eyes. One she struggled to name. It was more than just care, for how broken had she been, when he had fallen on The Long Night?
Perhaps she saw him as family? All she had ever had was Viserys, and she most certainly hadn't cared for him. Jorah had been her one constant. So perhaps she had come to think of him as family, true family.
If that were the case then marrying him was potentially a bad move. Yet had her father remained King, and had she been raised in these very halls, she knew she'd have been promised to Viserys. Just as her mother had be forced into marrying her brother, Daenerys's father.
Jorah wasn't actually family.
They shared no blood.
And she knew she would be more content with him than with any other, time had shown that in so may ways already.
She squeezed his hand, held his eye.
"If I am to marry, which Tyrion is fairly insistent upon, I'd rather it be you."
Jorah moistened his lips, his hand shaking ever so slightly under the weight of hers.
"And these matches Tyrion has organised?" He asked, his voice tremoring.
"As I said before," She spoke softly. "I will entertain them."
She squeezed his hand once more before sitting back, yet her eyes kept his within their hold. She picked up her cup, and took another drink of wine, before speaking again.
"Who knows, perhaps they will be more appropriate than the previous ones. Though I highly doubt it." She raised a brow at him playfully, and the corner of his mouth raised just a fraction.
"And if one of them is?"
"Then we can forget this conversation ever happened." She assured him, though there was dull ache in her chest at the very thought of it. "But when they prove themselves substandard, do I have your approval, to go ahead with this?"
There was another pause between them, as Jorah considered her offer truly. He raised his own cup, drinking the red liquid all in one go. Daenerys had never known him to be a drinker, yet it wouldn't surprise her this evening, if she had driven him to hunt down Tyrion and share a number of bottles with the dwarf.
"Aye." He said at last. "If you're certain that it what you want, then I would be willing."
She smiled softly at him, and finally placed her cup back down onto the table, having kept it clutched in her hand.
She hadn't realised how much she had fretted over his response. How anxious she had been that he would refuse.
It gave her pause.
Why would that be? It wasn't as though she was in love with her loyal knight, though she had to admit, a marriage to him sounded peaceful, easy.
She rationalised that she was merely anxious about having to choose between men who would anger her, should he have said no. She would much rather share her life with a man who had already proved his loyalty to her, his care for her, and his temperament, than one she would struggle to converse with or find herself butting heads with.
That was all it was.
And coming to this conclusion she sighed softly, sat up straighter, and reached for more wine. She topped her glass off, before gesturing to Jorah's.
"Another?" She asked. "We should probaly toast to our agreement, right?"
Jorah had been on the verge of refusing. He wasn't much of a drinker, and Daenerys knew that the main reason was because he did not like the idea of being intoxicated if a threat befell her. Yet he could hardly refuse, when they were to toast a rather important agreement, could he?
He nodded, and she filled the cup before sliding it back across the table.
"To potentially the rest of our lives together." She announced, holding her cup aloft.
Jorah lifted his own, a hesitance in him that she wasn't used to.
"Aye. Should you not find a better match." He hastened to add, as though insuring that she would at least try with these Lords who travelled to meet her.
"Indeed." She agreed, before bringing her cup to her lips.
Their deal was sealed. Should the Lords that Tyrion had arranged not meet her approval (most likely when they didn't) she would marry her Lord Commander instead.
A man who loved her above all else.
A man who had been by her side, unwaveringly loyal, for over a decade.
A man who unbeknownst to Daenerys, she would fall head over heels in love with.