The night air was warm, carrying the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. The stars stretched endlessly above you, scattered across the sky like specks of silver dust. Here, in this rare moment of peace, the world felt smaller—quieter. It was just you and Jorah, standing close beneath the vast expanse of the Essosi sky, far from war, far from duty.

His armor was gone for once, leaving him in only a loose tunic and worn leather boots. It was strange to see him like this, stripped of the weight he so often carried on his shoulders. His hands, rough and calloused from years of wielding a sword, hovered hesitantly over your waist. They were a warrior’s hands, meant for battle, but as they settled against you, they were unbearably gentle.

“You never told me you could dance,” you teased, tilting your head up at him with a soft smile.

Jorah let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ve never had a reason to.” His voice was low, almost reverent as his gaze locked onto yours. “Until now.”

He guided you gently, moving in slow, careful steps as if afraid the moment would slip through his fingers if he moved too fast. There was no music save for the rustling wind and the distant crashing of waves, but it was enough. You let yourself follow his lead, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder as you swayed together beneath the stars.

Jorah exhaled, his grip tightening ever so slightly, as if grounding himself in the feel of you in his arms. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke.

“I wish I could give you more than this,” he murmured.

You frowned, slowing your steps. “More than what?”

“This… stolen moment.” His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your waist. “I have nothing to offer you. No lands, no titles, only a name that’s been tarnished.”