Chapter 205: Loose Tongue
"After you hatched the dragons, I swore my loyalty to you. From that day onward, I never contacted Varys again."
Jorah slowly raised his head, sincerity evident in his eyes.
Daenerys looked at him coldly.
"You once swore loyalty to my brother Viserys as well."
The words struck home.
Jorah had no answer.
His mouth opened slightly, then closed again.
Unable to defend himself, he lowered his head once more.
[He's pitiful enough. A little punishment should be enough.]
Watching Jorah kneeling there, barely daring to look up, Drogon couldn't help speaking up on his behalf.
"Stay out of this!"
Daenerys suddenly whipped her head around and glared at the dragon perched on her shoulder.
The outburst was so fierce that flecks of spit landed squarely on Drogon's face.
Uh...
Drogon blinked.
He had never seen Daenerys this angry.
In all the years they had been together, she had never once lost her temper at him.
Jorah, who had been bowing his head in remorse, looked up in astonishment.
His eyes darted between Daenerys and Drogon.
Was she... talking to the dragon?
All he had seen was Drogon casually wiping his face with a tiny claw.
Yet somehow Daenerys had immediately exploded at him.
The scene left him utterly bewildered.
Seeing Drogon silently wiping his face, Daenerys nearly lost control of her expression.
A faint blush crept onto her cheeks.
Even though Drogon had hinted long ago that Jorah might once have harbored divided loyalties, and even though she had prepared herself for the possibility, hearing the confession directly from Jorah still filled her with anger.
Her thoughts drifted through the betrayals that had shaped her life.
From the Usurper, Robert Baratheon...
To the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister...
To Maz Duur, whose actions had cost her both Khal Drogo and her unborn child...
Even to her former handmaiden, Doreah.
More than anything else, Daenerys hated betrayal.
Especially betrayal from those she trusted.
Jorah had come forward willingly.
He had confessed everything on his own.
Yet despite that honesty, forgiveness did not come easily.
"Guards!"
The Unsullied stationed outside the throne room immediately entered at her call.
Daenerys didn't hesitate.
"Take Jorah Mormont to the dungeons."
Her voice was icy.
"He is to remain imprisoned until I say otherwise."
"No one is to release him."
"And no one is to visit him."
The Unsullied bowed instantly.
"As you command, Your Grace."
Jorah closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Then, without resistance or protest, he lowered his head and allowed the guards to take him away.
As his footsteps faded from the throne room, silence settled over the hall.
Drogon glanced at Daenerys.
For once, he wisely decided not to say another word.
Even after he was gone, Daenerys's anger had not faded.
She turned sharply toward Drogon.
"You knew all along, and you never told me!"
[I did tell you. You overheard it yourself, didn't you?]
Drogon shot back.
Then, stepping lightly off her shoulder, he pushed off with his hind legs and flew out of the Red Keep toward Blackwater Bay.
The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with an enraged Daenerys.
Besides, he had a few questions he wanted to ask the Drowned God, Adins.
"You—! Drogon, get back here!"
Daenerys had been about to complain that his hints back then had been so vague she had been forced to piece everything together herself.
Instead, she watched him take flight and disappear through the window.
Her voice echoed uselessly after him.
As the dragon grew smaller in the distance, a trace of regret crept into her heart.
Did I just hurt his feelings?
---
Meanwhile, Varys and Tyrion left the throne room together.
After exchanging a few casual words, Varys brought up the topic that had been bothering him for years.
"Have you learned anything more about the mysterious benefactor?"
Ever since he had begun sending information to Slaver's Bay, the mysterious figure who had occasionally contacted him in King's Landing had almost completely vanished.
It was as if that person had never existed.
Tyrion didn't answer immediately.
Only after they reached the temporary chambers assigned to them did he close the door and lower his voice.
"What if I told you even Queen Daenerys doesn't know who the mysterious benefactor is?"
Varys stared at him.
"That is impossible."
Tyrion took great satisfaction in Varys's expression.
He let the silence linger before continuing.
"I told Her Grace every secret that mysterious person once revealed to you."
"She knew none of them."
"Not one."
"If she truly knew who it was, why would she be hearing those things for the first time?"
Varys stood frozen for several moments.
Then he slowly spoke.
"That explains a great many things."
His brow furrowed deeply.
"But then why would this person go to such lengths?"
"Who are they?"
As he thought back over all his interactions with the mysterious benefactor, certain inconsistencies suddenly became clearer.
"The answer to the first question is easy," Tyrion replied.
"They were helping Queen Daenerys."
"As for who they are?"
He shrugged.
"I haven't the slightest idea."
"You didn't uncover even a single useful clue?"
Varys looked genuinely frustrated.
From the day he had been frightened into supporting Daenerys, he had effectively followed the mysterious benefactor's guidance without question.
Now Tyrion was telling him that Daenerys herself had no knowledge of the person.
Looking back, his sudden decision to switch sides seemed rather embarrassing.
And another mystery still bothered him.
Daenerys surely knew that many of the assassination attempts throughout her childhood could be traced back, directly or indirectly, to the Master of Whisperers in King's Landing.
So why had she accepted his loyalty so readily after receiving a single letter?
That level of trust defied explanation.
As one of the greatest spymasters in the world, Varys had assumed Tyrion would finally provide the answers he sought.
Instead, he now had even more questions.
Seeing Varys struggling with the puzzle, Tyrion couldn't help remembering how similarly confused he himself had once been.
"The only thing I'm certain of," he said, "is that Drogon has some direct connection to the mysterious benefactor."
"Beyond that, I have nothing useful."
He paused.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Daenerys has been teaching Drogon how to write."
"With how intelligent he is, he may have already mastered it."
Varys blinked.
"He can write?"
"I know the mysterious benefactor always communicated with you through letters," Tyrion said with a grin.
"But surely you don't think the mysterious benefactor could actually be Drogon?"
The suggestion sounded absurd even as he spoke it.
Varys considered it.
For a brief moment, the possibility crossed his mind.
Then he dismissed it.
Even though Drogon had survived the gods' attempt to destroy him and had accomplished feats beyond imagination, it was difficult to believe a dragon could possess the kind of foresight, planning, and political subtlety displayed by the mysterious benefactor.
"Perhaps we should simply ask him."
The thought had clearly been tormenting Varys.
As a man whose entire life revolved around uncovering secrets, leaving such a mystery unsolved was almost unbearable.
"If you want to ask, be my guest—"
Bang!
The door suddenly burst open.
Grey Worm strode inside.
"Jorah has been imprisoned by the Queen."
"Do either of you know what happened?"
"What?"
"Jorah was imprisoned?"
Tyrion and Varys exclaimed simultaneously.
Seeing their genuine surprise, Grey Worm realized he had come to the wrong people.
He turned to leave.
Before he could, Tyrion grabbed the edge of his sleeve.
"Which dungeon?"
"I'll go speak with him."
The two had worked together since the days of Slaver's Bay.
Tyrion wasn't about to ignore Jorah's predicament.
"I've already checked," Grey Worm replied.
"Her Grace expressly forbade visitors."
That made Tyrion even more confused.
What could Jorah possibly have done to provoke Daenerys this badly?
Everyone knew how close they were.
If anyone ranked just below Drogon in Daenerys's affections, it was undoubtedly Jorah Mormont.
Standing nearby, Varys recalled the moment after the meeting ended when Jorah had remained behind in the throne room.
A suspicion began forming in his mind.
Tyrion, meanwhile, was growing increasingly anxious.
Then he noticed the thoughtful expression on Varys's face.
His eyes narrowed.
"You've figured something out, haven't you?"
The room fell silent as both Tyrion and Grey Worm turned to stare at the Spider, waiting for his answer.
(KEEP SUPPORTING OUR DROGON AND HIS DRAGON MOTHER)
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