Game of Thrones: Short stories.

The bodyguard - Part 2 - Jorah x Reader

(Y/n) made her way into her room, the oldest dragon finally able to escape her duties for the day, as the sun sank gradually on the horizon. Leaving the protection of her younger sister to her unsullied guard. Slowly she removed the sword from her side and lay it on the table. Sure, that she felt naked without it. That the valerian steel was as much a part of her as her own flesh and bones. Her eyes turning to look at the reflection of herself in the large mirror that seemed to be there to merely taunt her. The dragon no longer seeing a lady. No longer seeing a woman that would attract the eye of a man, but a soldier. Her gown replaced by armour. A sewing needle with a sword.

Ever since she could remember, (Y/n) had done all she could to protect her siblings. To fight anyone that dare to think they could harm a dragon. Anyone that may wish to end her line. (Y/n) even protecting Dany from their own brother. From his lust. His bed known to her better than her own. Yet now, here she was, alone. Her brother, the only lover that she had ever known, crowned with gold by Drogo. Her life dedicated to still doing all that she could to keep her sister safe. To hope that even if no other man could love her, Dany could at least find someone else to love, so that they weren't the last of their House. So that the dragons didn't disappear from this world.

Moving to her bed, she pulled off one of the sheets and threw it over her tormentor. Not wanting to see herself any further. (Y/n) stretching out her aching muscles, as she removed the leather armour that covered her form. Her body dropping backwards onto the bed, as thoughts of earlier events, thoughts of her sister's word, of Jorah, filled her mind.

From the moment that (Y/n) had met the former Lord of Bear Island, she had liked him. And despite what she had come to know of his past. Of him being a spy for Robert Baratheon's Master of Whispers, she had grown to like him all the more. And even though he would, to most, appear quite cold and stoic. He could, with time, warm to certain people. And once he had warmed, it was apparent that there was so much more to the disgraced lord than met the eye. Her like for the warrior becoming love without her realising. A love that she knew would never be returned, despite what Dany might have said. A love that she knew Jorah could only feel for her sister. (Y/n) wiping away a tear from her eye, as she gradually rose from her bed and made her way over to the large jug that was filled with cold water. The liquid being poured into a bowl before the dragon brought it up to her face. Water trickling down from her cheeks to her neck and then to her chest. Dampening the simple shirt that still covered her body. (Y/n) stopping as she caught her reflection in the bowl. Sure, that she looked older than her years. That the scars that littered her body marred any beauty that she once might have had.

She couldn't blame Drogo for having laughed at her when she offered to take Dany's place as his wife. Couldn't blame Jorah for only having eyes for her sister. Yet that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. She had been born a lady. A princess. She should be a queen. Yet here she was, little more than a common soldier. Little better than one of the unsullied. The scars, the signs of her years of devoted service to the House of the Dragon.

Suddenly, the bowl went flying across the room. Water soaking the floor. Next to go was the mirror. Her fists connecting with the glass. The jagged shards joining the water as they covered the floor. The lady letting out a cry that would shame even the roars of Dany's own dragons, as the frustration and pain of years of loneliness and duty finally broke through the barriers that she had built up.

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Jorah made his way to find (Y/n). He had been trying to find her since she had left her sister. He had gone to see the unsullied commander, yet when he had spoken to Torgo Nudho, he was informed that the older dragon had long since left. Tyrion telling him exactly the same. The former Lord of Bear Island just seeming to miss her no matter where he went. Yet now, given the hour, he knew that there was only one place that she was likely to be. Jorah quickly heading for the lady's apartments. Hoping that this time he would be able to summon the courage to tell the dragon how he felt. That despite his love for the Mother of Dragons, it was nothing compared to the love that he held in his heart for (Y/n).

Suddenly, as he got closer to (Y/n)'s rooms, a loud crash followed by a gut-wrenching scream filled his ears. The sound causing Jorah to run. The lord forcing his way through the door to the lady's apartments. His eyes growing wide as he found (Y/n) at the centre of the chaos. Water and glass covering the floor. Her hands covered in blood and her eyes full of tears.