[He doesn't know Jorah's story, not his history, not his past, and certainly not his future, what would be his future to him, dead as he is. As for love and lust? What does he know of the difference? He had once loved.
Once.
She took it away, took it all away, a mother in pain and a storm raging. How could he ever love again? He won't press.
Yet.]
I've never breathed a word of it to her, Ser Mormont, nor did I ever intend to. I would rather have cut out every tongue that would dare speak of it once we returned home, every mouth that opened with that nonsense ready to spill out of. Sew them shut, burn them off, anything to keep them quiet.
You have not spoken to her of it, you say. I have not either. If all of Westeros here tells her as much and agrees on it, there is only you and I to look to for assurance it is not true. Do you want that, Ser Mormont? You from Westeros, I the last of a dynasty? We would know. She would be able to conclude that. Do you want her to realize we knew these whispers and kept them from her?
[Yet again, he drags Jorah down on his level. He has not heard of his exile, has no idea about it. He tries to show that he's concerned for both of them, tries to make it seem that way. Jorah may take it for something else: Viserys is begging for his sister to not think even worse of him for keeping this secret, and he'll drag Jorah into that "fear" if he has to.
Is it for her this time, or is it for him?
Both. Neither. As far as he's concerned, it's for one thing: the name Targaryen.
Something he's ruined and sullied as gold rained down on him, didn't he?]
no subject
Once.
She took it away, took it all away, a mother in pain and a storm raging. How could he ever love again? He won't press.
Yet.]
I've never breathed a word of it to her, Ser Mormont, nor did I ever intend to. I would rather have cut out every tongue that would dare speak of it once we returned home, every mouth that opened with that nonsense ready to spill out of. Sew them shut, burn them off, anything to keep them quiet.
You have not spoken to her of it, you say. I have not either. If all of Westeros here tells her as much and agrees on it, there is only you and I to look to for assurance it is not true. Do you want that, Ser Mormont? You from Westeros, I the last of a dynasty? We would know. She would be able to conclude that. Do you want her to realize we knew these whispers and kept them from her?
[Yet again, he drags Jorah down on his level. He has not heard of his exile, has no idea about it. He tries to show that he's concerned for both of them, tries to make it seem that way. Jorah may take it for something else: Viserys is begging for his sister to not think even worse of him for keeping this secret, and he'll drag Jorah into that "fear" if he has to.
Is it for her this time, or is it for him?
Both. Neither. As far as he's concerned, it's for one thing: the name Targaryen.
Something he's ruined and sullied as gold rained down on him, didn't he?]