Breaker, Broken | Jorah Mormont

Chapter 10

There was a sudden screech overhead, and a burst of flames. Drogon flew through the fire, descending upon the stadium. Many of the Harpies immediately began to run away, but one was not fast enough, and Drogon grabbed him in his mouth, ripping him to shreds.

He roared, burning anyone else who lingered with a golden mask.

A spear flew out of nowhere, landing in the dragon's neck. He ignored it, spinning around and trying to burn more.

Saera was still cutting down any other man that came, unable to focus as Daenerys tried to rip the spears out. He screeched right in her face, in a great deal of pain because of all the new spears being tossed at him.

She stopped as Daenerys suddenly climbed onto Drogon's back, whispering, "Soves." (T: Fly.)

He struggled to take off, barreling right toward them, and causing them all to throw themselves off to the side. Then, he ascended, carrying her high and out of the stadium.

The majority of the Harpies had already been burned to a crisp. Those that remained were being taken care of by the Unsullied and Dothraki who remained, leaving them a clear path at the main doors to evacuate Missandei and Tyrion. They rushed out, returning to the pyramid at top speed.

"How are you?" asked Saera, sitting on the bottom steps of Daenerys's throne, cleaning Jorah's face with a wet cloth.

"Fine," he promised. "You–" he examined a few cuts on her arms. "Superficial wounds. You're alright."

"I am," she swore. "We're alright. Daenerys will return any minute."

He ignored the fact that Daario and Tyrion were nursing their own wounds behind him. Cupping her face, he squeezed her cheeks together, shaking his head, "You did something stupid, Princess. Why would you–?"

She moved his hands away. "I didn't want to lose you for a reason as stupid as that," she argued. "What were youthinking?!"

"I couldn't give up," he said. "I had to come back to you. I swore I would serve her and I swore I would protect you both. I swore I would return. Ser Barristan..."

"I know," she whispered sadly.

The doors opened, and they leapt up expecting to see Daenerys, but it was Missandei with Grey Worm. "Jorah the Andal," he said in surprise, bandages around his waist, injuries almost entirely healed.

"Turgon Nudha," said Jorah.

"You should not be here," said Grey Worm.

"No," agreed Daario. "But he is."

"Our Queen ordered him exiled from city."

"He saved her life today from a Harpy who was probably going to stab her in the throat," said Saera. "He stays."

"Sa dreji," said Missandei. "Si eksin murghi ynones ji... byka vala." (T: It's true. And I would be dead if not for the... little man.)

"Krubo," said Tyrion. "Nyke pasan kesor udir drejor issa. Munna, nya Valyrio mirri pungilla issa." (T: Dwarf. I believe that's the word. Apologies, my Valyrian is a bit nostril.)

Missandei smiled. "Mirri puñila." (T: A bit rusty.)

He repeated, "Mirri puñila." (T: A bit rusty.)

"I am sorry," said Grey Worm. "Sorry I not there to fight for our Queen."

"You missed a good scrap," said Daario.

"None of that matters now," said Ser Jorah. "The longer we sit here bantering, the longer Daenerys is out there in the wilderness."

"Surely Drogon would bring her back?" said Saera.