Chapter Text
Jorah held Jonah's hand and led him deeper into the Red Keep's library. The records of all past rulers, Targaryen rulers that is, were kept here. That included portraits.
There was one portrait in particular that he was looking for. The idea had been in his mind for years, but only recently had he received information that might just turn it into reality.
“Here it is, take a good look Jonah, this is none other than your grandmother, Queen Rhaella Targaryen,” he pointed to her crown. “This portrait was made after your grandfather Aerys was crowned.”
Jonah frowned, “The Mad King...”
Jorah winced, “He was not always mad, and your grandmother had nothing to do with his crimes. She was a kind and dutiful queen.”
At only nine, nuance was not something Jonah understood. It didn't help that he had discovered the truth about Aerys during an argument with Sansa Stark's daughter. The girl was older than him, and knew of her family history, whereas Jonah had been kept ignorant in a futile attempt to preserve his innocence.
He was still not aware of the full history of the Targaryens, Daenerys and Tyrion were still hesitating, albeit for different reasons.
Daenerys did not want her precious child knowing the horrors of history, especially when she was working so hard to ensure they would never repeat.
Tyrion on the other hand, did not want to tell Jonah anything that could influence his opinion of his ancestors at too young of an age.
Jorah felt both of them had compelling reasons and participated in keeping things quiet. But he had his own selfish reasons.
He fully intended to tell Jonah about the kind of man he was before he became the man was today. And he was prepared for Jonah to hate him for everything he had done. Just not so soon. He had not even admitted this to Daenerys, but he wanted to enjoy Jonah’s adoration for a while longer.
“Anyway, I didn't bring you here to talk about him. We are here because your mother's nameday is coming up.”
Jonah's eyebrows pinched together, “Mother's nameday? But we were just talking about my grandparents!”
Jorah cleared his throat, “Well, yes, we were, um... I'm not doing a very good job of explaining, am I?”
Jonah raised an eyebrow - seems all that time at his mother's side had taught him something.
“Now, your mother's nameday will be here in a little over a month, yes? Alright, so that means we need to get a gift, correct? Also, that gift has to be something special?” Seeing that Jonah was following his words carefully, Jorah stood up straight and pointed at the portrait. “This shall be your mother's gift this year.”
Jonah looked unimpressed. “A portrait from the library?”
Jorah took a step back and scratched his nose before continuing.
“Not the portrait Jonah, the crown your grandmother is wearing. We are going to recover it for your mother.”
“Oh, okay.”
Jorah knew that tone.
He walked away and sat down heavily on a chair before beckoning Jonah to join him. This was going to be long talk, and he didn't feel like being on his feet for it.
“You have questions, ask away.”
Jonah scrambled onto his lap, and gave him a quick smile before he began questioning him. “Mother has a crown, why do you want to give her another crown?”
Jorah tilted his head back and carefully considered how best he could answer the question.
“Jonah, can you tell me what you understand by death?”
He didn't answer at first, instead bit his lip and started to fiddle with the buttons on Jorah's doublet.
Jorah gently took his hands, and softly prompted, “Sweet boy, what's your answer?”
Jonah refused to answer and instead just hugged Jorah. Jorah sighed, sometimes Jonah would laugh off horrible incidences, and other times the slightest things would upset him. But that was what children were like.
Jorah patted his back for a while, before prompting an answer.
“Jonah, come now, talk to me.”
Jonah took a deep breath, “When someone dies, they're gone forever. You can never talk to them, or see them again.”
Jorah hugged him tightly, the boy shifted a bit until he was comfortable, with his head tucked under Jorah's chin, and his ear over his father's steadily beating heart.
“That is true, however, the people who die, always leave something behind,” he held up his signet ring bearing the Mormont sigil. “Like this ring. It belonged to my father, he received it from his father. My father is long gone from this world, but every now and then, I look at this ring and remember him.”
Jonah lightly touched the ring.
“Your father gave you this ring before he died?“ Jorah nodded, ”Why didn't mother receive grandmother's crown when she died? Where did it go?”
Jorah hesitated, Daenerys fully intended to share her life's story with Jonah... someday.
As such, until Daenerys got around to it, he and Tyrion had fed him a highly abridged version that just mentioned that after the war against the Mad King, his children Viserys and Daenerys had spent years in Essos, and after Viserys died, Daenerys hatched the dragon eggs and came back to Westeros. They had left out significant parts of the story... including Rhaella's death.
Jorah quickly tried to think of a plausible explanation, but came up short. There was no way to spin the story to make it more palatable to a child without outright lying and making something up.
Daenerys words echoed in his mind,
When Viserys sold our mother's crown, the last joy was gone from him, leaving only rage.
Daenerys believed that moment started Viserys’s descent into madness. For all the hurt he caused her, upon taking the throne, Daenerys had chosen to forgive her brother and remember the care he had shown her while they were still children. While Jorah kept a less generous view of the cruel and cowardly man, even he could not deny the suffering both the Targaryen siblings had endured.
“When your uncle Viserys and your mother lived in Essos, things weren't always good for them. They had to move around from place to place, and they had trouble finding work as well, so they were often short on money. After a time, your uncle had to resort to selling their belongings to get money for food. Their mother's crown was among the things he sold.”
“But why sell it? Why not go to a people's kitchen? Or to the ruling Lord? There are kitchens everywhere and Uncle Tyrion said it's the law that the Lords must keep their people fed and sheltered.” Jonah informed him with a frown.
“Essos didn't have these things, and Jonah, these things were implemented in Westeros by your mother after she became the Queen.”
Jonah blinked. “So, if the rulers didn’t take care of them, then how did people get food?”
And here Jorah realised something. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. Jonah was a prince of a prosperous Kingdom, being raised in the largest castle in the land. He lacked for nothing, and was surrounded by abundance.
And with that, came ignorance of how the world truly worked.
“Jorah, my love, forgive me, but nothing of what you just said made any sense to me.”
Jorah sighed, “Then let me explain again. The castle walls are too high, and they have made Jonah ignorant. He does not understand how people survive without the help of their rulers when in fact, it’s the Lords who would be nothing without their people. The concept of suffering and struggling to survive do not exist for him.”
Daenerys held up her hand, “I understood that part, what I don’t understand is your desire to take him to Essos. Why can’t he learn what he needs to learn over here? We could send him out to the city, and I’m to meet with the Lords of the Reach and Westerlands over the coming month, on the agenda is harvest and distribution among other things. He will hear of the people's struggles for basic necessities then.”
Jorah sat down next to her and took her hand, “Hearing of something is not the same as witnessing it. Daenerys, he’s a prince over here. In Essos, very few people are capable of recognising him, the trip will be good for him. He’ll get to see the world without having people bow and bend over backwards to accommodate him.”
“Then I’ll come with you. Tyrion can handle the meetings.”
Jorah hesitated. The primary purpose of the trip to Essos was to reclaim Queen Rhaella’s crown for Daenerys. His original plan was to take Jonah and Rhaegal to Essos and return in a day or two at most. But Jonah’s ignorance had bothered him immensely.
Making the journey as commoners with Jonah to show him how most people lived was important, and not something he could do with Daenerys around.
As someone who grew up with nothing, Daenerys wanted Jonah to have everything she dreamed of and then some more.
But Jorah had grown up in a manner similar to Jorah. Despite his mother dying when he was young, and Bear Island being poor in everything except bears and trees, Jorah never lacked for love or comfort. The people adored the Old Bear’s little cub, his cousins thought him a hero, Maege treated him as if he were her first born, the Maester praised him for being smart and the Master at Arms declared him the best fighter on the island. And being the Lord of an island so far removed from the mainland meant that he lived and ruled as the King of his meagre lands.
He had the ideal life, and it made him both arrogant in his own superiority, and ignorant of the world beyond his little island.
Despite what Maege said all those years later, the truth was that if it wasn’t for her constantly knocking sense into him, his ignorance and arrogance would have ruined the island long before Lynesse and her extravagant tastes ever arrived.
Jorah would be damned to Seven Hells if he let his only son follow his footsteps.
Daenerys pulled away her hand, stood up and walked away to the window.
“You don’t want me to join you.”
He had hesitated for too long.
“Daenerys – ”
“I know exactly why you want to go alone with our son without me.”
Jorah stood up, “Daenerys please – ”
She turned to him and pinned him in place with one look. “You’re jealous.” The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. She found this amusing.
Jorah sat back down and refused to respond. Not that he could think of a response. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be jealous about.
Daenerys slowly walked over to him, her voice teasing him.
“Jonah is growing up, he’s been my cupbearer for almost a year now, and his studies with Tyrion and Missandei have also become more extensive. I understand that Grey Worm has Jonah and his son Raito, training with spears these days.” she stopped in front of him, “Tell me, does papa bear miss his little cub? Does it bother you that he no longer follows you around all day?”
Jorah averted his eyes, “Earlier whenever I sat down to read, he would come and interrupt me with some question every few minutes,” he mumbled.
Daenerys burst out laughing. “And you miss it now do you?”
He did not. He appreciated being able to read and do other things without having a small child stuck to his leg. Besides, he still got a couple of hours alone with Jonah everyday.
But if this got Daenerys agree…
She sat back down next to him and draped herself across his lap.
“You can go. I trust your judgement more than anyone, if you say this trip is essential, then it is essential. If you wish for it to be just you two, father and son, then so be it. Just remember, I expect a letter every other day, and if I don’t hear from you for more than a week, I will take Drogon and come after you.”
He felt slightly guilty for once again giving her the half truth and letting her believe something else entirely. He consoled himself with the fact that this time, it was rather harmless, and would not last longer than a month.
Jorah brushed aside a lock of her hair, “When we return, we’ll be sure to bring a gift for you.” He smiled at her. Regardless of whether or not they recovered the crown, he would tell her everything.