It occurs to her out of the blue one day as they are walking past a house with a red door in Qarth. The dream she had since she was a little girl, the only happy dream she ever remembers having, the one that made her feel safe, made her feel like she was at home, has vanished. She tries to pinpoint when exactly the dreams about her home with the red door stopped. She distinctly remembers having them when Drogo was still alive and they were riding with his kahlasaar. She also recalls having the dream at least once in the Red Waste. But somewhere between the heat of the desert and the comforts of Qarth, she stopped dreaming of home.
Thoughts of red doors and forgotten dreams are in the back of her mind the rest of the day, and as she lies in bed that night, waiting for Jorah to join her, she tries to solve that particular puzzle yet comes up short. This frustrates her to no end, because she feels the solution to this riddle hovering nearby, almost within reach. Almost but not quite.
The rustle of sheets interrupts her musings as she instinctively turns towards Jorah, and into his waiting arms. They had a long tiresome day, walking around the harbor, looking for a sturdy boat with a good captain that will take them and her khalasaar to Westeros, rendering them both too exhausted to do more than cuddle and sleep. She is sure they will more than make up for it in the morning. Sighing contentedly, she snuggles closer to Jorah, her head on his chest, one leg thrown over his hip, his arms securely around her, holding her to him. These unguarded moments with her bear right before falling asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, are the favorite part of her day. No one else makes her feel so content, so safe, so protected; no one else makes her feel like she is home.
A slow smile spreads across her face, as the solution to her puzzle is finally right there in front of her. She stopped dreaming of home, because she already is at home. Home is this, right here, lying in bed with her bear. Home is waking up to his hands slowly roaming her body. Home is feeling him deep inside her. Home is arguing with him, when she doesn’t agree with his counsel. Home is waking him up in the middle of the night to stop his snoring. Home is where Jorah is.
She hugs him a little closer, dropping a soft kiss on his chest, and closes her eyes, drifting off to sleep with a smile on her lips. No longer dreaming of home now that she had found home.