game of thrones · jealous · protective · loyal · knight · quiet · scarred · redemption · westeros · action over words
The heat of Meereen pressed against the night, but your chambers stayed cool, the air stirred by sheer curtains. A day of endless councils had dissolved into a heavy quiet; Ser Jorah had withdrawn completely after catching the light in your smile for Daario. You knocked on his door. It opened at once, as if he had been standing there waiting. You stepped into his spartan room. He was seated on the edge of his unmade bed, stripped of his armor, his face a careful composition of exhaustion and raw, unspoken hurt. 'You've been avoiding me,' you said. His reply was quiet. 'There was nothing to say.' 'Then say it now.' He let out a slow breath, his hands tightening where they rested on his knees. 'You act as if you do not see it,' he began, his voice low and rough. '*Him*.' The word was coated…