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springdandelixn · 2 years

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Je te vois - Finale

Dark!Jorah x Daenerys

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41178564/chapters/103407948

Warnings: Story contains rape/noncon elements. Jorah is the bad guy. Please proceed with caution if that is not your cup of tea.

This chapter was inspired by darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s prompt "I knew the moment I saw you."

Part One

The week passes by in a buzz and Daenerys couldn’t be happier to finally leave the company.

She received the contract from Blackbird Publishing the very next day after the party and after seeing how much they were willing to pay her just for an internship. She immediately sent a scanned copy of the signed contract and squealed in delight in her living room, jumping up and down in celebration.

But what drives her, even more, to be excited about leaving is that she won’t see Lynesse and Peggy any longer who’s made it a routine to pass by her cubicle every day since they came back from the party and blab about meaningless hearsay about her relationship with Jorah.

She knew people would start talking, it was impossible for them not to be seen together. They were so close to one another and Lynesses saw it first hand. She doesn’t doubt they saw him kiss her hand too as well as waited with her for her Uber at the entrance of the hotel after she declined his offer to take her home himself.

“We’re just friends.” She tells them in sheer annoyance while typing aimlessly at her computer, a poor attempt into ignoring and tuning them out.

“ Friends? ” Lynesse scoffs while Peggy mimics her like some parrot. When did they even become friends? “Who would want to be friends with you?” They both laugh at her face, her fists closing tightly as she tries to steady her breathing and prevent herself from bursting.

“For all we know you’re fucking the boss so you won’t be some lousy assistant any—”

“Who’s fucking the boss?”

Daenerys’ eyes widen in shock when she hears Jorah’s voice over theirs, looking up from her screen and seeing him standing behind them, a wide smile on his face while he stares down at the two girls when they turn to face him.

“Mr. Mormont—!” Peggy stammers, her body shivering as she looks down in complete embarrassment.

“Do continue with your story,” Jorah says with sarcasm, leaning his hip against the cubicle wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m quite curious to know who our dear Ms. Targaryen is sleeping with, so she won’t be a lousy assistant any longer.” He says with ridicule.

Both girls stay quiet, their heads pointed at their feet as they fidget in place. And Daenerys can’t even feel sorry for them even if she tried. They’ve been harassing her all week, taunting her and hounding her, asking her embarrassing questions that she doesn’t even have answers to, the answers that they’re looking for.

“Ms. Hightower?” Jorah drones, his hand casually resting on his waist. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re not in this department, am I right?”

“Correct, Sir.” Lynesse whispers, the woman visibly wincing when Jorah hums audibly, the sound echoing throughout the floor.

“Then please kindly tell me why you’re here and not at your desk, working.” Daenerys senses the bite in Jorah’s words, turning her head to face her monitor once again, not wanting to see the anger bubbling up within him. “It’s not even lunch break.”

“I—I don’t know,” Lynesse mumbles, seeing her eyes tear up from her periphery.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jorah mocks. “Because funny enough I know why you’re here.” His voice tightening in anger as he adds. “You’re here because you came to harass Ms. Targaryen who, as I can see from where I stand,” Jorah’s eyes dart to her for a quick second before facing both women once again. “is trying to do her job. You’re here because your life is so meaningless and dull that you have to fill it with petty lies and gossip to get the satisfaction that you exist and are better than anyone in this working environment. But most of all,” He stops mid-sentence and Daenerys can feel him smirking as she spies the two women standing stock still in their place, their mouths slack from Jorah’s wrath. “You’re here because it saves me the time to go to your stations and dismiss you both from your jobs.”

“What?!” Lynesse and Peggy say in unison, the latter already bursting into tears as she covers her face from humiliation. Daenerys gasps in shock and looks up at the two girls and then at Jorah, his blue eyes swimming in fury, his eyes completely focused on his target.

“You heard me. You’re both fired.” Jorah says with finality, his back going straight as he stands upright once more, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I will not tolerate such toxic behavior in my company nor will I allow you both to continue harassing other employees with your bullshit lies and accusations.”

“But—Mr. Mormont—” Lynesse tries to rebuttal, tears freely falling from her face, but comes out empty, her head turning to the crying girl beside her. “It was Peggy’s fault!” She points at the other girl. “She told me to come here!” She says in a rush, Peggy looking up at the blonde girl with pure betrayal on her face.

“Enough!” Jorah roars, making both women cower and everyone on the floor either looking at them in shock or hiding in fear, including her. “I will not hear anymore of your excuses! Pack up your desks and leave the premises immediately! If I don’t hear from your superiors that you’ve already left the building in the next 30 minutes, I will have security drag you out. Do I make myself clear?”

They both nod and scurry back into their workstations, the cries of Peggy echoing throughout the office space. She doesn’t even dare to look at her and see if she would actually pack up her stuff and go, not when Jorah continues to stand by her spot, his eyes stoic as he looks around the office, every head who’s witnessed the gruesome exchange looking down to busy themselves with their work, not wanting to offend their president.

“Ms. Targaryen.” Daenerys winces when he whispers her name, peeking up from her lashes, and seeing him still facing the room. “I want to see you in my office at noon sharp. Understood?” Jorah instructs and doesn’t wait for her answer before walking down the corridor and to Tyrion’s office.

She releases the breath she’s been holding when she hears the door close, her head bowing down as she feels a wave of desolation rush over her. She knew Jorah to be strict, heck, every executive in the company was but it was in good faith that they were, to keep a good balance of work and play in the office. But not once has she seen him angry, she doesn’t even think anyone has seen him that furious for she’s never heard anyone say anything about his temper. Only praises of how a good boss Jorah Mormont is. But after that display, she doubts anyone would ever say he’s perfect. She doubts anyone would even open their mouth at all.

Daenerys looks up from her feet when the elevator dings, signaling her arrival on the top floor. No one else aside from Jorah and his assistant, Samwell, stays on this level, the space igniting the inevitable nervousness at the pit of her stomach as only the sound of her heels clicking against the marble surface and the typing on Samwell’s keyboard fills the void.

She didn’t hear from Jorah any longer after the fiasco at her department. No emails nor calls to help assure her that she’s in the clear from what happened. Not that she was expecting any but she can’t shake away the feeling that he’ll be doing the same thing he did to those girls with her when she steps into his office.

I don’t have to be afraid. I did nothing wrong. She tells herself but it does little to boost her confidence in facing the CEO. If anything, it just solidified her anxiety and her conclusion that Jorah was going to fire her for being the reason for such drama in the office. But it shouldn’t matter, right? Even if he does fire her, she’ll be leaving the company in a week to begin her career as a photographer. But what if he revokes his endorsement? What if he tells Petyr that she’s a troublemaker? She doesn’t even know what mood Jorah would be in when she sees him. Will he still be fuming? Will he shout at her? The negativity continues to pile up in her head, her heart pounding loudly against her chest, making her breathe heavily and stumble as she stops by Samwell’s desk.

“Oh, Daenerys,” Samwell chirps when he looks up from his monitor, Daenerys giving him a small wave. “Have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Mormont know that you’re here.”

She squeaks a soft ‘thank you’ and occupies the middle seat on the waiting bench across Samwell’s desk, placing her purse atop her lap. Not too close and not too far. A perfect angle to gauge the atmosphere in the room.

The typing resumes from Samwell’s end and Daenerys can’t help but fidget in anticipation in her seat. She grabs her phone and presses a button to bring the screen to life. 11:55 AM. She’s early and it makes her sigh, thinking that she could have come a bit later to lessen the waiting time and the fear that completely overcomes her.

“Mr. Mormont is ready to see you now,” Samwell announces, the sound of his chair rolling back as he stands from his desk filling her ears, Daenerys standing along with him and inhaling deeply when she walks with him to the door. Samwell knocks lightly on it 3 times before pushing the wooden barrier open and ushering her in.

She doesn’t hear a response when he announces her presence, her heart jumps in her throat when the door closes with a light click, Daenerys swallows thickly as she scans the modernly decorated office space that’s big enough to fit 3 conference rooms and stops at the floor-to-ceiling window when she sees Jorah standing in front of it, his eyes already locked on her and a grin on his face while holding an old-fashioned glass that’s half filled with amber liquid.

“Darling,” Jorah’s voice cuts through the silence and Daenerys forces a smile as she takes a tentative step forward. “You made it. Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the L-shaped couch facing the windows.

“I—I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She says in a soft voice as she walks toward him, angling herself when she reaches the couch and takes a seat in the middle just as he instructed. And it gives Daenerys a slight sense of ease to see that Jorah is back in his usual calm mood. He called me Darling. That’s a good sign, right?

“I know you would never disappoint me.” She notices how his grin turns playful as he says those words, her eyes darting forward to look at the skyline of London on display before them instead of his eyes. “How are you feeling?” The question takes her by surprise.

“Okay, I guess,” She mumbles, her hands fidgeting on the strap of her purse from the nervouness clawing at her throat. She then bursts into tears as she balls her fists tight. “Mr. Mormont—I am so sorry.” She begins, the tears immediately flowing down her cheeks. “I kept telling them to stop and I kept telling the truth, that we’re just friends and they wouldn’t believe me. They just wouldn’t no matter how much I tell them. Then—when—you saw them and I should have just told them off but—but—” She chokes and wipes her tears away harshly with her palm, feeling her make-up smudge on her skin and her hand. The tension is just too much for her to handle and the fear that she’s disrupted the company’s peace weighing heavily on her shoulders. That what happened with Lynesse and Peggy was her fault and that it has jeopardized any chances she has to fulfill her dreams. “Please—Please don’t revoke your recommendation to Mr. Baelish. I’ll stay an extra month until you find replacements for the vacant posts. I’ll—I’ll—”

“Daenerys,” Her rambling breaks off when she hears the strength in Jorah’s voice, looking up at the man with a deep frown on her face, her tears continuously rolling down her cheek with the droplets making their way to her hands. “I want you to relax. I’m not revoking anything.” He says calmly before a light chuckle leaves his lips. “I didn’t call you here to scold you.”

“You didn’t?” She asks as she sniffles.

“No,” A low laugh echoes through the office, Jorah’s chest rumbling as he does. “I called you here because I wanted to give you something.” His hand holding the glass then stretches and gestures towards the box she hadn’t noticed when she walked in sitting on the coffee table in front of her wrapped in black paper with a red ribbon laying on top of it. “That’s yours.”

“I—” She blinks fast and eyes the box before looking back up at her boss. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s alright,” Jorah says as he places the glass atop the coffee table, striding back on his desk and taking a box of tissues that he sets beside the mysterious gift. “Calm yourself down first then you may open it.”

She nods and pulls out several tissues from the box and shyly wipes her face dry, the frown deepening even further when she sees her foundation and mascara smear on it, trying her best to clear whatever residue is left. A gasp then leaves her lips when she feels the tissues being snatched from her hand, Jorah now taking a seat beside her and taking hold of her chin, tilting her head back to face him before wiping her face himself.

She sees his eyes boring into her, the blues turning darker by the minute as if he’s staring into her soul. A low rumble then sounds from his throat when he runs the tissue against her lip, his thumb following suit as he runs the pad against it, the smirk on his lips making itself known once again.

“You look beautiful, Darling, even after crying.” She hears Jorah say and Daenerys breaks their eye contact, looking down as much as she could, refusing to look up at him as she feels her cheeks heat from the comment. “And what happened with those girls was not your fault.” He says with a nod. “I told you before, I will not hesitate to fire anyone who spreads ill rumors in my company.”

She does remember. Back at the party; His words firm and sure of what he was to do if anyone dared to speak lies about him.

She keeps her head down and nods when he releases her, the soiled tissue sheets balled up and tossed carelessly onto the coffee table. The black mystery box is now placed on her lap and Daenerys reaches up to run her finger against the glittering ribbon.

“Go on.” Jorah urges. “Open it. And I hope you like it.”

She peeks up at him once and takes a breath, peeling the ribbon off and placing it down on the couch before carefully unwrapping the tape off on each side, unfolding the paper, not wanting to ruin the delicate wrapping. Her eyes then grow wide when the paper drapes off on her lap, revealing the brand new DSLR camera staring back at her.

“I—Jorah,” She hiccups, looking up to see him staring at her once again, this time, a soft smile playing on his lips. “This is for me?” This can’t be real.

“Well I don’t see anyone else here but the two of us,” Daenerys couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his joke.

“But why?” She asks, her hands skimming against the box and pushing the flap open to pull the camera out of the box, confirming the gift to be real.

“I wanted you to have a good start on your first day, next week.” He says as a matter-of-fact. How does he know that? “Petyr went ahead and told me when you were starting, so I went and picked this up. I wasn’t sure if you already had one but if you do, now you have two, but I sincerely hope that you would use this one more.”

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Daenerys whispers as she runs her thumb against the body of the camera.

She’s always wanted one of these. To allow her to take pictures professionally and not through her phone or a borrowed camera from the library. But with all the bills she had to pay, even a debt that isn’t even hers but her stupid brother’s, the paycheck of an assistant was just barely enough to have her skim by each day.

And now she has one but she doesn’t understand why Jorah would go out of his way to get her such an expensive gift. She does have a hunch, with the pet name and the way he acts around her but chooses not to dwell on it. To not entertain it. A boss cannot harbor feelings for their subordinates. It’s against company policy. And even if he did, that she continues to convince herself that he doesn’t, she cannot entertain as such with Jon in her life. Yes, she would want Jon to be similar to Jorah in terms of attention but no—it can’t be. They are simply friends and he’s just being kind. But do friends even gift each other items that are over 4 digits? Jon wouldn’t even think about giving her one, yet this man did and it makes her question, “Why?”

“Why what? Don’t you like the gift?”

“No, I love it.” She mutters, “But I don’t understand why you would give me something like this. This is too much, Jorah. I—I’m just your employee.”

“And a good one.” He affirms, his leg crossing over his knee as he leans back against the couch, his arm stretched over the back. “And I believe that good employees, obedient employees, deserve rewards. Don’t you?”

“I—I don’t know.” She sighs and runs her finger against the lens. “I don’t think I can accept this.”

“You can and you will.” The sudden anger in his voice takes her by surprise, seeing Jorah’s lips set into a thin line when she looks up, his eyes narrowing at her whilst his hand lightly taps on the cushion at her side. “And you will say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Mormont. I appreciate this gift.’”

There’s a threat to his words as if he’s taunting her, and the fact that he’s eliminated his first name worries her even further, scares her even, that she’s offended him deeply. Forcing herself to smile, Daenerys takes the strap of the camera and wears it around her neck carefully, the weight of Jorah’s stare heavier than the device.

“Thank you, Mr. Mormont,” She breathes. “I appreciate this gift.”

“Good Girl.” Jorah praises and reaches over to flip the camera on, holding it up for her to take. Good Girl? “Go on. Try it. I can be your first model.” He grins and nods at the device.

Swallowing thickly, she fiddles with the lens and lifts the device to position her eye against the viewfinder, focusing on Jorah who fixes his tie and faces her, seeing the blue of his eyes darker than before when she presses the button and the shutter echoes through.

The morning autumn breeze blows through the city, leaves of gold and red scattering the sidewalks and crunching underneath her shoes, excitement thrumming through her veins as her camera bag hangs and swings from her shoulder, and a wide smile radiating from her lips as she walks up the stone steps of Blackbird Publishing.

The building isn’t as big as her previous company, in fact, if you didn’t pay attention or have no idea of what the company’s logo looked like, you would miss it. Daenerys likes it that way, the lobby of the building already exuding comfort with several chairs and bean bags scattered on the floor, a small Starbucks kiosk nestled at the corner, and shelves of books and magazines everywhere you looked.

Daenerys steps up to the reception desk and gives her name, the woman smiling at her as she hands her a badge, directing her to the hall of elevators and instructing her to go to the 5th floor. She thanks her and pins the badge on her dress, following the instruction and waiting in anticipation for the metal doors to open.

Natasha, a woman wearing a plaid shirt over a black tank top and cargo shorts, her hair red as the fire, the Head of Imagery greets her with smiling eyes, Daenerys giggling at how happy she receives her in their department. They engage in small talk for a while as Natasha walks her through the hall, saying the name of each room and what it does in between stories of how her husband ruined her red shirt from a science experiment, with her ending up wearing a green one, to which she adds, “It’s my husband’s favorite color.”

She then introduces Victor—her partner in crime—as Natasha puts it, a tall and lanky guy, with round specs over his eyes and soft-looking, blond hair, his office covered in posters of past award-winning photographs that were featured in their magazine. He’s kind and attentive, to Daenerys’ observation and within minutes of getting to know each other, she slowly dives into the motion of her work, following the instructions Victor gives her and smiling when he bids her a job well done.

The day goes by in a whirl. Her mind intensely focused on the tasks she’s given that she ignores the constant buzzing of her phone in her pocket. She knows it’s Jon and it deflates her a bit that she can’t respond immediately, not wanting to ruin any of the photos she’s been tasked to edit by Victor and Natasha, but at the same time, she feels happy that he’s finally being more involved in her life.

They reconciled after the party, Jon feeling remorseful for his lack of attention and sensitivity to Daenerys’ feelings after she opened up about his misgivings. It’s not like she’s perfect, she has flaws too and she apologized for them as well. And it just makes her feel giddy that their love is slowly rekindling itself, the feeling carrying over to her work, making her hum in her seat as she clicks through the editing software.

When break time finally arrives, Daenerys stretches her arms and her back after sitting for so long but smiles as she sees her task list was almost done. The workload is just as tedious as her previous admin job but the fact that she’s doing what she loves takes away the stress from it all.

“I’ll be having lunch outside, Dany!” Victor calls out, raising his lunch bag in her direction.

“Enjoy!” She calls in return, waving at her co-worker and turning back to her computer, pulling her phone out from her pocket to respond to the messages she’s received.

Just as she suspected, there was a text from Jon and it makes her smile as she reads his wishes of good luck and his confirmation for their celebratory dinner tonight. What she doesn’t expect were several messages and a missed call from an unknown number, but as she reads the messages, she immediately knows that it was Jorah, asking her how her day was going and what time she was off, another one asking how she was adjusting, and another telling her about a meeting he feels stuck in.

Not that she didn’t appreciate such messages, they just came unexpectedly. Jorah has never messaged her on her personal number before. She doesn’t even remember exchanging numbers with him at all, her curiosity piquing up as she thinks how he got hold of hers but she answers her question all the same. Company Directory . Of course, he has access to it, probably the reason why he took the initiative to send Mr. Baelish her email.

She sends a quick reply to Jon, giddily telling him how excited she is about their dinner tonight then sending one to Jorah, replying that she’s having a blast at her new job.

She places her phone down on her desk and reaches for her backpack to take the sandwich she’s prepared for lunch when her phone starts ringing, startling her in the process. Her heart then hammers against her chest when she sees the same unknown number calling, Jorah’s face popping in her mind as she watches her phone vibrate in her hand.

Taking a steady breath, she presses her thumb against the green icon and slides it against the screen, lifting the device to her ear.

“Hello?” She answers, looking down at the sandwich sitting on her desk.

“Darling, I was worried you weren’t getting my messages,” Jorah says, a happy tone in his voice. “How are you? How’s your first day?”

She hums and scratches her thumb against her desk. “It’s been great. Sorry I wasn’t able to reply immediately. I didn’t want to get distracted with my tasks.”

“That’s alright, Darling.” The pet name returns, making Daenerys squirm uncomfortably in her seat. “I just wanted to invite you for dinner tonight. You know, to celebrate your first day?”

Her heart sinks. Dinner? What does she tell him? She already knows that Jorah wouldn’t be happy knowing she has plans. The way his voice sounded when he told her to accept the camera still fresh in her memory, a spark of fear running down her spine.

“I—I’m sorry, Jorah. I can’t.” She mumbles. “I’m having dinner with Jon tonight.” She shuts her eyes tight when the line goes silent, her heart pounding hard against her chest as she awaits his response.

“I see,” She hears the disappointment in his voice, Daenerys hating herself that she even has to feel apologetic for rejecting him. The instinct to please she developed when working as an assistant resurfacing.

“I’m really sorry, Jorah.” Daenerys frowns in worry. “How about tomorrow? I’m free tomorrow.”

“What time is your dinner anyway?” He asks.

“We’ll be meeting at O’Malley’s Pub at 8.” She answers.

There’s a slight pause at his end, muffled voices and movement playing in the background. “We can grab a couple of drinks then while you wait for him. We’ll pre-game as others call it.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to get drunk.”

“Just a drink.” He insists. “Just until he arrives and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s just one drink. There’s no harm in that right? And it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to have company while waiting for Jon. She knows 8 pm was just a tentative time with him anyway, that the possibility he would be a couple of minutes late from his shift is close to a hundred.

And Jorah just probably wants to know how she’s adjusting to her new job. She wouldn’t be here anyway if it wasn’t for him. If he didn’t give a good word to Mr. Baelish in the first place. And he’s just asking for a drink, it’s the least she could do after everything he’s given her, after everything he’s done for her.

She schools her emotions and releases a calming breath, nodding to his request even when he cannot see her. “A drink sounds great. And we can still go on that dinner tomorrow too, the timing is just off today.” She tries to sound happy, hoping that Jorah believes her sincerity.

“Amazing! I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift then.” He says, his voice much lighter than earlier, making Daenerys release a relieved sigh. “See you, Darling.” He bids.

“See you.” She says back, keeping the phone on her ear as she waits for Jorah to end the call.

Placing her phone face down on her desk once more, she picks up her sandwich and unwraps it, taking her mind off of the conversation earlier. She doesn’t want to dwell so much on Jorah’s reactions, doesn’t think about Jon either for she knows that if she gets caught up in such an emotional strain, it would affect her work and she doesn’t want to fuck up on her first day.

Taking a tentative bite of her sandwich, she hums and closes her eyes as she tries to return to her earlier joy when coming to work. Nothing and nobody should have the power to ruin her day.

“Only great things will happen from now on, Dany.” She tells herself. “Great things.”

She waves goodbye to Victor after logging out of her computer and then at Natasha as she heads to the elevator. The rest of the day seemed to go by so fast that when she looked up from her monitor, her shift was already over.

It still feels surreal for her that her life seems to be heading into the right direction. No more working just to get by. No more fear that her money wouldn’t last her the week. And most importantly, no more dreaming of becoming who she wants to be, for she’s already taking the first steps into turning her dreams into a reality.

The sound of the elevator suddenly brings Jorah to the forefront of her mind. She forgot to text him that she was already done her shift. She was quite thankful that her phone stopped buzzing for the entire duration of her work, Jon wasn’t an avid texter so she didn’t really expect anything from him but Jorah, she was worried that he would send her more messages and the thought of him being upset because she wasn’t responding made her shiver in worry.

‘ Shift just ended. ’ She quickly types on her phone and sends it. A ping coming immediately soon after, a reply from Jorah. ‘ Waiting outside. ’

How does he know when I’m off? She clutches her phone tightly in her hand as thoughts of Jorah and his action come to the surface of her mind. That for some reason, Jorah knows so much about her and what she does. How he seems to appear at the right moment without her even disclosing anything to him. It’s probably just a coincidence. She convinces herself and refuses to listen to the voice at the back of her head saying ‘ It’s because he likes you .’ Her contact details are available to the company and getting off from work at such a time is the norm in almost all working environments. Yes, a coincidence. She nods to herself and wills the ill thoughts back where she can never think of them.

Just as she expected, she sees Jorah standing in front of the building, his usual navy suit enveloping him perfectly. But what catches her attention is the bouquet of roses in his hand, a smile playing on his lips when he spots her among the passing strangers and walks towards her, meeting her halfway.

“Hi.” He breathes, holding out the bouquet to her. “For you. To celebrate your first day.”

She takes them and smiles back at him, lifting the flowers to her nose to take a whiff of the fragrance. “Jorah, you shouldn—” No, he doesn’t like his decisions being questioned. That day in his office coming to light once again. The anger in his voice and the words he said echoing in her head.

You can and you will.

Taking a deep breath, she keeps the smile on her face. “Thank you, Jorah. They’re lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them.” He says as he reaches over and takes her pack hanging loosely on her shoulders. “So, do you want to wait at O’Malley’s, or would another place suit your taste while we wait for that boyfriend of yours?” She doesn’t miss the tightness in Jorah’s voice when he mentions Jon and it somehow deflates her that there’s an unspoken tension that revolves around both men.

She asks, “What do you prefer? I think Jon will text me when he’s on his way to the pub anyway.” And she only does so to appease her former boss.

“There’s a place called Tres at the edge of town. About 15 minutes from the pub by car.” He says as he opens the back of the car and places her bag inside, taking the flowers from her grasp after. “I heard their cocktails are phenomenal.”

“Sounds good.” She says and carefully gets in the passenger seat after Jorah’s opens the door, a gasp of surprise escaping her when his hand takes hold of the seatbelt before leaning over, his face so close to her as he locks the belt in place.

“Must keep you safe.” He gives her a playful wink as he rights himself once more and closes her door.

Tres is not the place Daenerys was expecting Jorah would be taking her to. It’s like she was transported back into the 1920s as soon as she stepped through their door. Soft light illuminates the place with plush leather booths surrounding the elegant, mahogany bar sitting in the middle of the room, with two bartenders mixing drinks in front of their patrons. It was more of a Gentleman’s Club if anything, with several men clad in suits occupying the seats with their female companions dressed in cocktail dresses.

It suddenly makes her feel out of place as she looks down at her attire, a plain white dress that stops just above her knees with a brown belt tied around her waist. Her sneakers look even more inappropriate compared to the heels that are strapped around the women’s ankles.

She takes a step back, feeling like an alien entering another universe when she feels a hand press against her lower back, looking up to see Jorah staring down at her, his blue eyes soft yet full of question.

“I don’t think I belong here,” She mutters, her eyes unrelenting in scanning the place. “I’m not even dressed properly to be here.”

“There’s no dress code.” Jorah in tones, his hand moving to the side of her waist and resting it on her hip. “And you look lovely as always. Shall we sit?”

But she doesn’t get to give her answer as he tugs her to his side, striding down the row of booths and claiming the one at the very corner of the bar, his hand only pulling away to allow her to slide into the leather seats.

“How was your day today?” He asks as he takes his beside her, too close for comfort and his arm stretches at the back of her seat, his head tilting as he keeps his eyes on her. “Were the people kind? I’d like to hear everything.”

A server then appears in front of them, Daenerys looking up to face the young man when he asks for their orders. She’s not given a menu and it slightly worries her that she would make a fool out of herself if she asks for something they don’t have.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Jorah says, not looking at the boy. “And a sample board if you have it.”

“Uhmm—what do you have?” Daenerys worries her lip, her hands resting on her lap as she plays with the hem of her dress to ease her anxiety.

“You can order anything you want, Ma’am, and we shall make it for you.” The server directs.

“P-Peach Bellini?” She doesn’t even know if she said her order right. But the server just nods and turns away from their table, Daenerys looking down at her hands when her introversion makes another appearance. And she doesn’t even know why she’s being so shy. Why she’s acting as such when she’s just having drinks. Drinks with Jorah. He said she looks alright and there’s no dress code. So, she doesn’t have to worry about sticking like a sore thumb.

And it’s as seem Jorah senses her apprehension, his hand gingerly moving to rest on her shoulder, giving the joint a light squeeze. “Daenerys, relax.” He tuts and she heeds his advice, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Today is a good day for you. And I only have you for a little while. Don’t you think we should make the most of it?”

She nods and wills herself to smile, a genuine one this time.

And she does end up relaxing; diving back into the smooth conversations she would have with Jorah back then as he tells her of the comings and goings of the company, how he’s implemented a new rule that concerns gossip and other non-business-related conversations that lead employees into the path of unproductivity. While she, in turn, tells him about the company and how she enjoyed every bit of it. How Natasha has been nothing but nice and accommodating to her transition to a new working environment and how Victor—there’s a tick on Jorah’s jaw when she mentions his name—has been helpful in her tasks and that she’s quite thankful that she already knows how to work the software they’ve been using in the firm.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Jorah says as he pops a grape in his mouth, the look he has on when the fruit pushes against his cheek making her giggle.

“I am. And I cannot thank you enough for helping me get this.” She says before sipping her second cocktail.

“Like I said, anything for you, Darling.” He grins and takes a tentative sip of his whiskey, their conversation moving on to how her previous supervisor, Tyrion, was glad that Peggy has been fired from the company.

After three cocktails in, Daenerys starts to worry in her seat, peeking at her phone from time to time as she waits for Jon’s text. It’s already 10 o’clock and they were supposed to meet two hours ago but still, he hasn’t responded to any of her messages.

“Maybe he forgot.” Jorah hums as he finishes his drink, the tumbler making an audible sound as he places it back on the table. “I mean, he did leave you at the party. I wouldn’t trust a man who wouldn’t even think about his woman for even a second.”

The comment takes her back and the easiness she was feeling earlier dissipates. His words are true, yes, but pointing it out further just drives the knife deeper into her heart, that Jon has indeed forgotten their plans for dinner breaks it even more.

She picks up her phone once more and tries to call this time, making several attempts and each one only brings her to voicemail. She sighs, the drink in front of her forgotten as she thumbs through her phone, reading the last message Jon sent to her today.

“I think I’m calling it a night.” Daenerys deflates, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall from her eyes.

How can he forget her so fast when he confirmed that he would show up earlier? They talked about their flaws and had an intense heart-to-heart about his assumed indifference in her life. And he promised he would change. Promised her that he would be more present, more available, and give her the emotional satisfaction she desperately needs. But now it feels like all that talk has fallen on deaf ears and that Jon has rolled back into his usual self.

“Let me take you home.” Jorah offers as he stands from his seat, offering his hand to her which she takes.

“That’s alright.” Daenerys sighs. “I can grab an Uber from here.”

“Please. I insist.” Jorah pushes, his hand resting on her arm, the sudden touch making her flinch. “You’re obviously in distress and I wouldn’t trust a stranger taking you home.” He adds. “Please, it will bring me peace to know that you arrive home safely.”

With Jon being MIA once more and knowing that Jorah doesn’t take lightly to answers that involve ‘no’, and frankly, she doesn’t have the energy to argue and with the sadness dominating her senses, she nods, and concedes to his offer, following him out of the bar and back to his car.

She’s quiet for the whole drive, her head leaning against the window as she stares blankly into space. She couldn’t take Jon off her mind and how he flaked on her. Couldn’t accept that their talk from before has all been for nothing.

But she’s pulled away from her reverie when Jorah makes a turn at the right corner. The street and houses looking all too familiar for her not to notice. And when she looks at the GPS on the dashboard, there’s no path he’s following, no destination typed into the console. Her mind going overdrive, fear encasing her as she thinks how Jorah knows where she lives when she didn’t even give him her address.

She sits up and grabs her phone tightly when she sees them stop in front of her building. The lamp posts and the silver moon being the only source of light to illuminate the streets as windows from the surrounding houses and apartments bathe in darkness.

Without saying a word, Jorah gets out of the vehicle as soon as he turns it off, Daenerys watching him stride to her side and open the door for her.

She steps out carefully, her heart pounding in her ribs as she watches him take out her things from the backseat, the flowers being placed in her hands along with her camera bag while he slings her backpack on one shoulder.

“You don’t have to take that.” She says with a forced smile, reaching up for her bag but Jorah’s hand circles around her wrist, stopping her from taking her things and looking at her with seriousness in his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Jorah chuckles, the grin on his lips making her spine shiver with trepidation. “You’re not yet at your door. I wouldn’t want you to break your neck in case you trip on the stair, especially with you carrying all this.”

She swallows thickly and nods at his words that feign concern, agreeing to his request as she walks to the front door, taking her keys out of the pocket of her camera bag, just to appease him and possibly make him leave her alone faster.

Her body goes rigid as they climb the steps of her apartment, Daenerys feeling Jorah’s chest so close to her back making her nervous that she flinches and trip on a step, his hand finding its way to her hip when she tries to right herself.

“See? Good thing I was here.” He laughs.

She laughs back, although in pretense, to not arouse any suspicion that she feels unsafe with how this man is acting. The man she’s come to know for years now. The man she looks up to and has shown his support in her work.

She clutches her keys tight and quickens her pace as she climbs the remainder of the steps, her door coming to view making her feel elated that she will be in a safe space away from this man. Immediately, she fumbles with her keys, and she hiccups when her fingers get all sticky, her eyes blurring as she tries to push the key through the slot.

Yet her attempts are halted when Jorah’s hand comes into view, her keychain snatched from her hand and he inserts the metal instrument through the hole, the knob turning in his grasp after and pushing the door open to her apartment.

“After you,” He hums and Daenerys slips through the threshold, her back facing Jorah and her heart dropping to her stomach when she hears him step inside, the locks on her door snapping into place.

She places the bouquet and her camera bag down on the coffee table, her bag making an audible thud when it hits the floor and Jorah’s footsteps echoing through the living room, filling her ears, making it known to her that he’s walking around her space.

“Quaint.” He remarks. “And cozy.” And Daenerys gathers the courage to face him, her eyes widening in surprise to see Jorah holding the picture frame previously hanging at the side of her door, a picture of her and Jon during their visit to Buckingham Palace.

“I’m home safe.” She speaks all of a sudden, giving Jorah the fakest smile. “You can go now. Jon might come by to check on me.” She rambles as she tries to recall the video she saw in high school when dealing with unwanted visitors. Keep stalling til you find an escape. “He could have just been tied up at work and is probably on his way here—”

“Oh, he’s not coming.” Jorah hums, his eyes still glued to the frame before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it with a loud crunch.

“What—what do you mean?” She asks, feeling her blood run cold at his eerie words.

Jorah then reaches in his pocket to take out his phone, tapping on the screen before holding it out for her to take. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

Taking the device with shaky hands, she chokes on her breath when she sees the image of Jon slumped on the ground. His eyes closed, his lip and forehead bleeding and a bruise forming on the side of his face. She looks up at Jorah then back at the photo, her muscles tightening as she studies his battered face.

“What did you do?” She gasps, her face red in anger and her eyes brimming with tears. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“Me?” Jorah feigns innocence and plucks the phone from her hands, tucking the device back in his pocket. “I did nothing of the sort. I was with you the whole night, remember? While your boyfriend was absent, like always.” He smirks and picks up another photo of her and Jon, giving it the same treatment as the previous one.

“They’ll find him!” She shouts. “Someone will find him and they will find out what you did to him!”

“Maybe—” Jorah hums and takes a step closer to Daenerys, his eyes turning sinister as he keeps them on her. “Or maybe they won’t. Maybe, they’ll find his body floating in some river and see a man who saw no future after his girlfriend dumped him for another. Decided to drown himself to end his meaningless life.” He chuckles when Daenerys looks at him in horror, the tears spilling down her face as she stares at the man she thought she knew. “The media would sop up that story in a flash, don’t you think?”

Daenerys takes a step back, her body shivering in terror before sprinting to her bedroom. She doesn’t look back when she hears his hurried steps, grabbing onto the knob but yelps when Jorah latches unto her arm.

“Hel—” Her scream gets muffled as Jorah covers her mouth, her eyes blown wide when he pulls her closer to him and sneers in her face.

“Shut up!” He warns and walks them both to her room, kicking the door closed before pushing her to the bed, her back dropping harshly on the mattress.

She pushes her palms against the bed as she tries to lift herself up, her instinct to scream taking over once more but stops when his hand wraps around her neck, his body pressing hard against hers, Daenerys gasping when he tightens his grip.

“Don’t give me a reason to hurt you, Darling.” He growls, Daenerys clawing on his wrist when he adds pressure on his hold.

“Please—” She chokes out.

“You promise?” He hisses and she nods, her eyes shutting tight when she feels the air slowly leave her. “Don’t make me regret it.” A threat and Daenerys gasps deeply, taking lungfuls of air before coughing loudly as she holds her neck, Jorah still atop her with his eyes boring into her.

“Why are you doing this?” She rasps, the tears continuously rolling down her face as Jorah’s hand begins to wander down her thighs, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Because I am better for you.” He says in a serious tone, his nose grazing down her cheek while his hand rides up her dress, a finger slipping through the fabric of her panties and pulling on it to have the elastic snap against her skin. “Because your boyfriend is not the man you’re supposed to be with. Because you’re supposed to be with someone who takes care of you, who supports you, and who loves you.” He whispers, his lips pressing a kiss on her cheek before trailing it down her neck. “And I’m that man.” His tongue then rolls on a patch of skin, Daenerys whimpering while her stomach turns at his words and how her body starts to respond to his touch, feeling her cunt go slick.

“If you love me Jorah, you wouldn’t do this.” She cries, her voice still raw from his previous assault. “Please, just let me go.”

“Oh, but I can’t do that, or else you won’t realize that you need me. That. You. Love. Me.” He says each word in a hushed voice laced with danger, and pulls away from her, dropping down to his knees on the floor of her room as he lifts her dress up and tugs her panties past her legs, pressing the soiled fabric against his nose and hearing him inhale deeply before tucking the undergarments in his pocket.

He pushes her thighs apart and Daenerys gasps when the cool air hits her sensitive cunt, another cry leaving her lips when he runs his tongue against her pussy lips, rolling around her swollen nub. She tries to stop him once more, pushing his head away from her but his large hand takes hold of both hers, locking her in place as he begins to lap his tongue against her folds.

She can’t believe that this is happening. That Jorah who was always kind to her is now doing such sinful things to her. She tries to think of how it started, of what she did to warrant such attention from him. Was it because she always said yes and never once tried to go against what he asked, what he wanted? But she only did it out of courtesy, did it because she didn’t want to offend and wanted to appease. She was a good employee. An obedient one. He said so himself.

But he loves her. He said he loves her. Why would he bestow upon her a nightmare if he loves her?

Her breath suddenly hitches and her muscles stiffen at the sudden intrusion of his digit in her, feeling her pussy suck his finger in as he buries it to the knuckle. And he doesn’t wait for long before thrusting it in and out, his pace quick and relentless, making her arch her back at the overwhelming sensation.

She pants heavily and grits her teeth, her mind going black when he adds a second, then a third, the pain from her walls stretching around his digits digging into her pelvis, making her squirm on the bed.

His lips then round her clit and begin sucking on it like a starved man, no pretense of holding back or slowing down, her core starting to quiver as she feels herself climbing higher into ecstasy. The tears on her face have long since dried and she feels shame wash over her as her body sing and delights from his torturous touch.

“That’s it, Baby,” Jorah coaxes against her cunt. “I can feel you close.”

She tries not to give in. Tries her best not to give him the satisfaction of succumbing to his ministrations. But she can’t fight her body, can’t fight her sense. Her heels digging into the mattress when he adds pressure on her clit, his tongue frantic as his fingers move faster and harder, thrusting deeper inside of her, the sound of her cunt squelching and his hums of pleasure filling her ears.

Her hands are then released from his hold and his thumb replaces his mouth on her swollen bud as he moves up and trails kisses on her pelvis, his body pressing against hers when he sees his face next to hers, the blues of his eyes almost gone as his pupils blown wide in evident arousal and his nose grazing down her cheek as he keeps up the movement of his hand.

“Cum for me, Baby.” He groans and as if his voice triggers something in her, she combusts with a loud cry, her head lolling on the mattress and her eyes rolling back as her release grips her senses.

A whine then leaves her lips when Jorah continues to rub her still, his fingers easing her from her high before he pulls his fingers out, feeling her pussy clench from the loss. She tries to regulate her breathing, to steady her erratic heart, and when she opens her eyes, she sees Jorah staring at her, his lips wrapping around his digits as he licks them clean of her essence.

“God, you taste divine, Darling.” Jorah groans as he pulls his hand away, Daenerys seeing his beard glistening with her unwelcomed arousal. “Turn over.” He commands after, his hand slapping her still sensitive thigh hard, Daenerys pushing herself to do his bidding, for she could tell he was still holding back. She winces to think what that hand would do if she dares to disobey.

“Take everything off.” The power in his voice shakes her to the core, immediately working to undo the belt then the buttons of her dress, dropping the fabric to her waist and stopping when only her bra is left to keep her dignity. “I said everything.” His command comes once more, this time with a bite, and with shaky hands she reaches from behind, sobbing as she unclasps the hooks of her bra from behind, Jorah’s hands reaching over to slide the straps off her arms and letting the article drop on the bed.

He pushes her down on the mattress, her chest pressed down while her ass hangs in the air on display for him. The telltale sound of his pants unzipping and the rustle of cotton and denim fill the quiet, the thud of shoes and the clang of his belt buckle coming after.

“Keep those hands where I can see them, Darling.” He warns as he grabs her waist, her heart constricting when she feels the tip of his cock brushing again her soaking cunt.

A soft cry of ‘no’ leaves her lips as he pushes through her folds, her hands clutching tightly on the duvet on her bed as he continues to drive himself in inch by inch, his groans of pleasure then a growl echoes through the room when he bottoms out.

He pulls back slowly, leaving only the head before plunging himself back inside, a garbled cry escaping her lips as he begins to fuck her hard, his pace unforgiving and reckless.

“Please—” Her cries turn into moans as she reaches back, pressing her hand against Jorah’s strong thigh. “It hurts—”

“Take it, Baby, you can do it.” Jorah growls and slaps her hand away. “Don’t you feel how your sweet little cunt wants me?” He says in between pants, his fingers digging into her flesh, feeling herself bruise underneath his touch while his cock thrusts harder and harder, the bed creaking underneath, threatening to break from his frenzied movements.

She lets out a loud yelp when he suddenly grabs her by the hair, her back arching as he pulls her up and holds her against him, her back pressing against his solid chest and feeling his chest hair rub against her skin while his hand makes its way back around her neck.

“You. Are. Mine.” He says between each thrust, the sound of their skin slapping against each other mixing with their hurried breathing driving her closer to her limit once more.

“Tell me you’re mine!” He demands, and Daenerys grunts as his hand tightens around her throat when she refuses to give in to his bidding. “Tell me!” He growls even louder, snapping his hips in a merciless rhythm, making her body quiver both in fear and pleasure.

“I’m yours! Please, Jorah—I’m yours!” She cries, her hand reaching up to grab his arm, her legs shaking as she feels the familiar pull at the core of her belly once more.

“Yes— Yesss!” Jorah exclaims and curses a loud fuck! in the air as his pelvis quickens in pace before giving one final thrust and stilling, his cock buried deep inside of Daenerys’ cunt and spilling in his desire, white ropes coating her walls. The act itself triggers her climax once again, making her body spasm against his at her release, her chest heaving as Jorah continues to thrust his hips, riding out his climax along with hers.

Daenerys feels breathless and used, her body being laid down on the bed and a whimper escaping her throat when Jorah pulls out, feeling his essence drip down her thighs, leaving her hollow and spent, her cunt raw and clenching from the loss of his cock and her body shivering when he presses his lips on the base of her nape, slowly trailing them down her back and stopping at the dip before her ass.

“Such a good girl.” Jorah praises and runs a hand up her side, whispering once more against her shoulder, a shiver from both his menacing voice and fear running up her spine. “ My good girl.”

The black barrier with a crest of a bear stares back at her as she stands in front of the door. It’s Jorah’s place. A house built away from the city and near the boundaries of the country. It’s where she will be living as per Jorah, telling her to pack her things after that night. He’s even struck a deal with Petyr, the man agreeing that she’s to transition working from home, even giving her the position at his firm completely only after a few days of her internship.

Daenerys doesn’t hear from Jon again after that night. No calls, no messages, making her fear that Jorah has made true to his threat. She cannot even try and contact him herself as Jorah took away her phone and replaced it with a new one. One he can track her with, one he threatened her into believing that any calls made outside of work would only make her suffer. And that he was listening and watching, always.

Jorah opens the door and nudges her in, her camera hanging around her neck, a reminder of his cruelty and deceit, and her luggage that contains everything she owns in Jorah’s hand. She thinks about where things have started to go out of hand, and what she did for her to end up in such an ordeal but stops her thoughts altogether for she knows there is no answer to her questions. That with Jorah, her life is better by not having questions at all.

She flinches when the door shuts with a snap, Jorah taking her hand and walking her up the staircase that’s decorated in modern architecture. That if the circumstances we different, she would take the time to appreciate its beauty, along with the decor of the house. But she can’t bring herself to do so as fear completely takes over her being, a constant presence in the company of this man.

She follows him through the hallway, various doors closed for her to see, her eyes firmly ahead as she stops in front of a closed door at the end. Jorah’s room, she assumes as he reaches over and pushes it open, revealing a neatly made king-size bed, walls of gray and white, and a closet full of suits hanging neatly beside an ensuite.

She looks around, trying to see even the smallest shred of the man she used to know when she stands frozen by the bed, blood running cold as her eyes stare at a grey wall, bare of any furniture aside from multiple photos. Photos of her. In various places. Her profile staring back at her wearing the outfit she vaguely remembers as the one she wore when she first joined his company. Another of her half naked at her apartment window. Another leaving the cafe she frequented in her lunch breaks and a big one where she’s smiling happily into the camera, one she remembers being taken on her first date with Jon, a big red X over his face.

“Y-You’ve been w-watching me?” She stutters.

And Jorah moves to block her vision, her eyes looking up to meet his, a devious smirk on his lips when he says, “I knew you were mine the moment I saw you.”

She shivers when he presses his lips against her lips, his hand holding her down by the shoulder and she knows that there will be no escaping this man. That he’s got what he wanted and he would stop at nothing to keep it.

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