Daenerys Targaryen (
motheroftitles) wrote in
randomosity2016-07-23 11:24 pm
[For Jorah] Secrets Beneath the Stars
Daenerys Targaryen had been married to Khal Drogo for some months now. She'd adjusted to the life of a khaleesi very well, but Daenerys was not drawn to her wedded husband. He was hard, unyielding and unfeeling. Khal Drogo knew nothing of softness and compassion - the Dothraki had no use for such things. While Daenerys valued a man of strength and a commanding presence, she also needed that soft touch every once in a while.
She found solace in Jorah the Andal.
He was kind, and they spoke often of the Seven Kingdoms and the world she had been forced to leave behind. The world she would retake when she returned to Westeros. Daenerys was happy to be able to have that kind of intellectual stimulation in Jorah Mormont.
But more and more lately, she found her eyes lingering upon his form longer than they should. She found herself wondering what it would be like to peel back the dusty layers of his clothing and leathers to let them fall to the sand beneath their feet. It was those times that she separated herself from him, fearful of what she might do or say. There was many a night that, as Drogo fucked her and even afterward, she thought of Jorah and what it would feel like to lie beneath him or sit atop him. But of course she was married and could not entertain such a thought - Drogo would likely kill Jorah for Daenerys even thinking of it.
So she said nothing, and focused on minor day-to-day tasks. This particular evening, Khal Drogo and the majority of his men had ridden out for an evening hunt. Daenerys sat outside her tent, and couldn't help watching with interest as Jorah sparred with one of the few men who had been left behind. She could see how his shirt was drenched in sweat and clung to his muscular form. Daenerys excused herself and retired to her tent after watching the exchange for a long while. She felt her control slipping.
She found solace in Jorah the Andal.
He was kind, and they spoke often of the Seven Kingdoms and the world she had been forced to leave behind. The world she would retake when she returned to Westeros. Daenerys was happy to be able to have that kind of intellectual stimulation in Jorah Mormont.
But more and more lately, she found her eyes lingering upon his form longer than they should. She found herself wondering what it would be like to peel back the dusty layers of his clothing and leathers to let them fall to the sand beneath their feet. It was those times that she separated herself from him, fearful of what she might do or say. There was many a night that, as Drogo fucked her and even afterward, she thought of Jorah and what it would feel like to lie beneath him or sit atop him. But of course she was married and could not entertain such a thought - Drogo would likely kill Jorah for Daenerys even thinking of it.
So she said nothing, and focused on minor day-to-day tasks. This particular evening, Khal Drogo and the majority of his men had ridden out for an evening hunt. Daenerys sat outside her tent, and couldn't help watching with interest as Jorah sparred with one of the few men who had been left behind. She could see how his shirt was drenched in sweat and clung to his muscular form. Daenerys excused herself and retired to her tent after watching the exchange for a long while. She felt her control slipping.

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Jorah used his strength to lift her enough for his cock to slip out of her tight heat. He set her back down to pin his cock between their bodies outside of her center. He moaned her name softly as the realization that she had released hard on him sent him over. His cock twitched as his large release spurred all over both of their bodies. He was breathing heavily as his release ebbed and his cock very slowly began to soften.
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All the same, she moaned at the feeling of his release covering her skin. "Gods, Jorah..." she moaned as she leaned down to kiss him.
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"I love you," she whispered back, hardly believing her own words, but it was true. She did love him. He was for her, and she didn't know what she would do without him.
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But she was married to Khal Drogo. She would have to carry his child.
"Stay alive, that is what I require of you. That is what I command you to do," she replied. "And...if the time comes and the Gods deem it necessary...you must watch me carry Drogo's child..." it hurt her to say it. But they had to accept the fact. She didn't want to think of how it would hurt him to see her pregnant with another man's child.
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He would not hope for tragedies to befall her that would give him the opportunity his heart and body desired with her. He could not allow himself to be that selfish.
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"If I asked, could you..." she bit her lower lip. "Are you strong enough, could you kill Khal Drogo,if I asked it of you?"
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He looked deep into those violet eyes of hers and gave a slow nod. He leaned in to speak lowly into her ear. "What would draw the least suspicion would be very painful and slow for him." He said. He had a blade and a bit of poison. It would not be unheard of for the great Khal to have gotten a small cut or two in his raid. A mild poison would make the cut fester and kill him. Being a khal he would be too stubborn to heal a small scratch. Not a single Dothraki would be suspicious, but he would suffer. Jorah would not act in this way unless Danearys ordered it of him.
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****
Some months passed. On the nights Drogo passed out drunk, or went on extended hunts, Daenerys went to Jorah's bed, or took him to hers. They were careful, and avoided being discovered.
Which was why when Drogo surged into the tent, enraged, Daenerys was totally unprepared. Drogo seized her by the hair and threw her from the tent, out where everyone could see. Daenerys tried to plead with Drogo, but he backhanded her, splitting her lip.
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Drogo glared at Jorah. "Move aside," He growled in Dothraki. "The silver woman has been unfaithful. She has taken a lover to my bed. Step aside, Jorah the Andal."
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A part of Jorah hoped the man would be enraged enough to press for more. It would give him an opportunity to challenge the Khal and seem forced to do so to uphold Westerosi honor.
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He glared down at the other man. "You are quick to defend her. Could you be the perpetrator? Are you the one fucking my wife?" Drogo demanded, bringing his curved blade up to Jorah's throat.
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Jorah knew Drogo would not attack him if his blade was not drawn, it was a sign of respect that Jorah had earned from the Dothraki.
Jorah focused in on Drogo. "I will not step aside and let you beat her because of whispers. My honor will not allow me to stand by and not act. I will defend her as the honor of Westeros demands. She is the last of her name in Westeros, I am bound to protect her...even from you." He said with humbleness in his voice. He showed body language that looked like he was not eager to fight Drogo, but his honor code demanded it of him.
Jorah knew that the Dothraki who did not like Drogo would honor him if he was victorious. This would be a dangerous dance indeed. He would need to block many of the hard blows from Drogo and keep him at a far distance.
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Daenerys stood quickly and reached out to Drogo. "It isn't true, you don't have to do this-!"
Drogo didn't let her finish before smacking her again and sending her to the ground again. Blood dripped from her nose, but Daenerys kept herself upright and braced herself against the ground.
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Jorah had bested the great Khal Drogo. He knew the Khal would rather die than cut his braid and live a life of shame. Jorah was leaving how he died to Drogo himself.
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