You stand by the window, the soft moonlight spilling across the room, casting shadows on the stone floor. The view of Meereen, now free from the constant tension of battle, is eerily calm. The night air is cool, but the weight of your thoughts makes you feel like the room is stifling.

The day’s royal affairs had drained you—council meetings, squabbles over logistics, the constant balancing of alliances. Yet, there’s still one thing that lingers in your mind, one thing that no political issue or royal duty can silence.

The soft creak of the door behind you snaps you from your thoughts. The familiar scent of leather and earth fills the air, and before you can even turn, a voice cuts through the silence.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you murmur, barely above a whisper. Your heart picks up its pace as your gaze stays fixed on the dark horizon outside.

Jorah’s presence is unmistakable. You’ve always known when he’s near, even if he’s not in your sight. His loyalty, his protectiveness, they linger in the air like a second skin.

A soft rustle of fabric follows, and then, his low voice breaks the silence, like a whisper from the past. “But I am.”

You feel the warmth of his body behind you now, the space between you two shrinking with every breath you take. His hand, rough and calloused, brushes gently against your shoulder before resting just at the edge of your neck, a touch that is both comforting and electrifying. The moonlight casting a pale glow on his features as he steps closer.

He walked towards you, slow and deliberate, until his chest is just inches from your back. His breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat of his body through the fabric of your gown. His hand moves from your neck to your cheek, tilting your face toward him, his fingers brushing against your skin like a soft caress.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he murmurs, his voice deeper now, as though the weight of his words presses against him as much as it does you. ”Not tonight. Not when you need me.”