Daenerys was totally in love with her son. She could spend hours watching him run and chase the birds that gathered in the gardens; or listening to him speaking in Valerian. He had her eyes and hair but that face, the way he held himself, it was all Jorah. Jorys had laughed happily in the face of her dragons, and they had indeed seemed to like him; for which Daenerys had thanked the gods over and over again.

She had thought it important for Jorys to see where his father had grown up, and the other kingdoms in the North. So Jorah was making preparations for their journey, and Jorys was playing on their bed in their private chamber. Daenerys sat on the bed and held her arms open for Jorys, who toddled along the bed and fell into her embrace. When Jorah appeared the boy grinned, but then looked puzzled when he was asked the question. Jorys looked up between his parents, then focused on Jorah with a grin.

"Papa! Wanna' ride with you!" he called out. Daenerys smiled and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"Then so be it, my little love," Daenerys smiled.