Chapter 28 - Chapter 28: The Story of Jorah Mormont

"What do you think I should choose?" Dany asked Ser Jorah, her voice soft but filled with concern.She had only three dragons, and no matter how glorious the future might promise to be, she knew she had to act cautiously. For now, secrecy and patience were more valuable than recklessness. Low-profile farming and preparation were prudent; taking three young dragons—creatures that could be slaughtered if exposed—on a wild adventure would be sheer folly.Jorah paused, weighing her question carefully. "There isn't enough food here—certainly not the blood and flesh needed to sustain three dragons. You know the stories of Aegon's Balerion, who could swallow a wild bull whole, or the legendary mammoths of the icy wastes. Even young dragons like yours consume enormous amounts. Within a year, they could devour every horse in the Carthusian Cassidy, and a year is not enough for them to reach full strength."Dany lifted the black dragon from its basket behind her. It wriggled and hissed, tiny claws scratching her arms as she tried to poke her finger into its mouth. The burning mucus stung, but she could not reach its throat. When would he be able to devour a mammoth in a single gulp? The thought made her both anxious and excited."Didn't I tell Rakharo to search for prey nearby?" she asked softly, leaning down to tease the struggling black dragon."Have you seen any sand lizards larger than a dhole along the way?" Jorah retorted, shaking his head. "Dragons are carnivores, and carnivores need herbivores. The Red Waste simply doesn't provide sufficient prey for your little ones."Dany's eyes blazed with determination. "Dragons shouldn't rely on humans for their meals. Starting tomorrow, I will teach them to hunt for themselves."Jorah frowned. "What good is a hunting skill without prey?""I don't expect them to grow into Balerion here," Dany said firmly. "But as long as they develop into capable predators, they won't be so easily killed by humans who fear, envy, and despise them."She looked at Jorah with a gleam in her eyes, voice deepening in a tone that was almost otherworldly. "Viserys once told me that the nobles and commoners of Westeros are secretly sewing banners with three-headed dragons at home. They long for the return of the real dragon. What do you think?"Jorah gave a bitter smile. "Princess, I cannot lie to you. The great lords of Westeros are consumed by the game of thrones, constantly scheming and vying for power. Lesser nobles and merchants care more for wine, women, and tournaments. The common folk desire only a long summer, perhaps even the fabled 'eternal summer': orchards heavy with fruit, golden wheat fields, and abundant harvests."And if only their lords would show mercy—spare wives and daughters, and stop using their sons as targets for arrows. They care little for kings, and even if they did, it would matter little; their lives rarely intersect with royalty.""So even if I leave here, where can I go?" Dany asked, spreading her hands with a resigned elegance. "I am not as innocent as Viserys. He had no choice but to arm himself with lies. The Usurper knows that the last Targaryen has hatched dragons. He will surely send the most skilled and ruthless assassins to hunt me—and my dragons.""I wandered Braavos for years," she continued, "the most powerful and prosperous of the Free Cities. I know the world's deadliest assassins, the Faceless Men. Their creed, 'All men must die,' means they will kill anyone for the right price. They are said never to fail."The price on my head will be the highest in history, but even if it is, what does it mean to a king?"Jorah frowned, thinking deeply. Then, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "The Usurper will not send a Faceless Man after you. The last attempt—the wine merchant who poisoned you at Horseking's Keep—was not a Faceless Man.""Why are you so sure? Now that I have dragons, everything is different," Dany said, tension threading her words.Jorah's thoughts turned inward. Because I am here… he mused silently.Dany remembered the history she had learned in King's Landing. Upon discovering her pregnancy, King Robert had summoned the council to decide the fate of the remaining Targaryens. Eddard Stark, opposed to killing women and children, resigned as Hand in outrage after a bitter argument with the king.That council meeting, for Robert and his counselors, was not a discussion of the past—it was about how to kill Daenerys and her child. One councilor had proposed hiring the Faceless Men, and the plan nearly passed. But Robert, always extravagant and deeply in debt, deferred to Littlefinger, the Master of Coin, who recommended a cheaper solution. That solution was Ser Jorah Mormont—the tall, honest-looking man standing before her.Jorah had been sent as a spy, tasked with monitoring Dany and, if necessary, assassinating her. Yet Dany had never feared him. Jorah had no real reason to betray her; the price offered by King's Landing—to lift his arrest warrant and restore his title of Lord of Bear Island—was trivial compared to her survival.Indeed, without Jorah's protection, or if he truly intended to harm her, she would have been dead long ago. She pondered: if the people of King's Landing knew Jorah was unreliable, would they have truly sent Faceless Men after her?Jorah spoke softly but firmly, breaking her thoughts. "The Faceless Men are not invincible. To ordinary people, they are legendary—but against the Kingsguard, their tricks are nothing. Have you forgotten? I am sworn to protect you. I am your Queen's Guard."Dany smiled faintly. "It comforts me to have you here. But let us stay in White Cloud City as long as possible, to ensure safety for ourselves and the dragons."She extended her hand, inviting Jorah and the others to climb the white tower at the city gate. As they ascended, she discussed guard arrangements for the city. Reaching the top, she released the three dragons into the sky. With hissed cries, they soared, their translucent wings reflecting the sun in brilliant colors.A few days later, all three dragons learned to fly and breathe fire. They chased each other across the sky, twisting and diving in a dance of color and heat. Dany watched Big Black, the black dragon, soar with a pride swelling in her chest. At only seven days old, he was already mastering flight."I don't understand," Jorah said, puzzled. "Why such simple names? Aegon's dragon was Balerion, Visenya's was Vhagar, Rhaenys's was Meraxes—names of ancient Valyrian gods."Dany was blunt. "My dragons and I are too weak to announce ourselves with grandiose names. I could have named them after ancestors—Rhaegal and Viserys—but I want to distance myself from the Targaryens of old.""Why?" Jorah asked, genuinely shocked."In this era, nobles cling to ancestry. Names carry power: countless Brandons of House Stark, numerous Aegons and Rhaenys of House Targaryen. Even my own name derives from Daenys, the virgin maiden. Over a hundred years ago, a Targaryen princess who married a Dornishman was also named Daenerys. I am not them.""The Targaryens' legacy brings only burdens. The dragons are mine. The Dothraki are mine. Their history is a chain I refuse to bear," she said firmly."Enough about me," she added, her voice softening as she turned to Jorah. "You know all about me, but I know so little about you. Tell me your story.""Me? What do you wish to know?" Jorah asked, a faint smile on his lips."You are the Lord of Bear Island. How did you end up here in Essos, thousands of miles from home?" Dany asked, glancing at the dragons circling above. "And you seem to know about jewels and their value. Does Bear Island have gem mines?""If there were mines on Bear Island," Jorah said with a wry grin, "I wouldn't be stranded here in a foreign land."He picked up a milky-white stone and drew a rough map on the tower's slate. "This is Bear Island, in the distant Bay of Ice. The distance to the Wall is nearly as far as to the far North. It is beautiful but primitive, an island a hundred kilometers deep, with twisted oaks, towering ancient pines, and hawthorn forests blooming in spring."Yet it is remote and poor. Unlike other noble houses, our hall was built from giant trees, not stone, with only a circle of fences for protection. Most of my people lived by fishing. Without trade, taxes were minimal. Our only specialty was bears—but where are there no bears? Merchants would visit once every few years, bringing cloth, copperware, porcelain, spices, and taking furs in exchange. Life was simple, perhaps dull, but I loved it."I never lacked women—neither fisherwomen nor farm girls would refuse their lord, and I never forced them. Before I came of age, my father arranged my marriage to a Glover from Deepwood Motte, neighboring Bear Island. I cannot say I loved her. She was plain, but kind-hearted and wonderful in character. In ten years, she suffered three miscarriages and never recovered from the last, dying soon after."Dany listened closely, watching the dragons wheel above the city, sunlight glinting off their wings. She realized that Jorah's story, though quieter than hers, was no less remarkable—a tale of loyalty, survival, and resilience that she would come to rely upon in the days to come.(End of Chapter)---