Can I play with madness?
Many humans on Planetos are playing with madness, in different ways and forms. Some of them probably never wanted to. Others chose to play with it. Others want to master it, or to stop it. Too many simply are caught in it, and have to play with it or die without even trying. A small House is caught in the awakening of magic as well as in the game of thrones, in both cases thanks mainly to their liege-lords, but also in good part thanks to other Houses with a certain affinity to magic, power, or both. How will House Mormont fare in this madness? Better than the Starks, than the Targaryens? What are the elusive Reeds and Hightowers doing? Let us follow (almost) all of our characters from the ASoIaF world in this journey through madness…anyway, we will pay more attention to the fates of Jorah, Alysane and family. Because one hero - or two, or three for all that matters - is not enough when things start getting out of hand, no matter what legends tell. Ask the Children of the Forest, if you don't believe me. [Book-verse with show!Hardhome and some stuff here and there. For further info, check the notes at the beginning of the prologue]
Mainly book universe, I only take a few good ideas from the show, like the show!Hardhome storyline (which you can copy and paste into this universe). Of course, Season 6 left a few marks on my imagination as well, and also confirmed R+L=J. Other than this, AU and alternative timeline from the end of ADWD and some of the few chapters of TWOW we already know. Some characters will be just mentioned, because I don't want to go mad (at least no more than I already am).
A Mormont-centric fantasy fic with sci-fi contamination. Esoteric/magic, humour, romance and passion, porn with plot (I will warn when it goes really pervert), some inspiration from history 1880-1945, or from the mythology I grew up with, and whatever makes me tick. Featuring also "virtual soundtrack", meaning suggestions for music to listen.
Feel free to imagine show!Jorah instead of book!Jorah, of course. I know how hard it is not to think of insanely handsome Iain Glen! Anyway, the picture of Jorah featured on his "A wiki of Ice and Fire" page ( images/a/af/Jorah_ ) is how I picture book!Jorah, and therefore will be the image I bear (LOL) in mind while writing. A tall and muscular man, his hair slightly receding and a small bald patch barely visible on the top of his head…not a canonically/conventionally handsome man but a man you can be attracted to, especially if you grow up and stop fancying only pretty boys. Yes, Daenerys, I am thinking about you right now.
Finally, a disclaimer: I am not GRRM, neither am I D&D/HBO, I own nothing, I only borrow stories and continue them with my own style, my ideas and my imagination! In addition, I thank GRRM, JRR Tolkien, and all the music masters who inspire me.
I am not a native speaker, so if you are one (and master your own language in grammar and style) feel free to suggest improvements!
Guess where the title for the fic comes from?
Prologue
He lifted his eyes and saw clear across the narrow sea, to the Free Cities and the green Dothraki Sea and beyond, to Vaes Dothrak under its mountain, to the fabled lands of the Jade Sea, to Asshai by the Shadow, where dragons stirred beneath the sunrise.
A Game of Thrones, Bran III
They had beaten him again until they had no strength left in their arms, until he almost had no life in him again.
Sounds died out. As usual, the bastards stopped only inches away from death.
Was it really the end, this time?
Lying in his own blood, unable to raise his head and open the slits he still had somewhere on his face to look at the walls of Meereen, Jorah tried to keep thinking of the only reason he had not to simply let go of his life and be done with the pain, with the self-deprecation, with the continuous bad choices, with everything. He didn't have to look at the city walls to keep that reason in mind.
Daenerys. She was so near, and yet so unreachable. But he had to hold on: he had survived much; he could survive still and overcome more than he already had. His only hope was to begin another day after passing out. Every day could bring him closer to her, to her service, maybe to her forgiveness, or at least to a death in her service, for her service.
He inhaled and exhaled, trying to make his nerves relax and his pain subside. He then fell on the floor, knocked out cold. He didn't even notice it: it just happened.
Jorah Mormont, son of Bear Island.
A voice, somewhere, from somewhere. A soft Northern tone, like that of children playing at a harvest fair so many lives of his ago. Maybe a dream? A memory from a happier past? Talking of the two things he loves most, his lost homeland and his beloved Queen. Was he hallucinating? He probably was.
You are a son of the North, yet you chose the dragon. Why her?
"I love her."
You know that winter is coming, don't you, Jorah Mormont? You know what's beyond the Wall? Your father saw.
A shiver went through Jorah. Memories of old tales seemed to take shape and life in his mind. Silvery shadows danced a macabre dance on the remains of men, women and children. Then they looked at a white glistening barrier. The Wall!
"Who are you? And what do you know about my father? And about my liege-lord in Westeros?" whispered Jorah, or at least he thought he whispered in his head.
I am not a dragon, yet I can fly too, and I can see far away. I saw you, I saw your Queen, I saw your dragons. As I saw your island, your kin.
"Where is my father? How is he? And my family? Tell me, show me".
The answer did not let him wait: Your father left you yet another task. This time you cannot fail him. You will have to find a way. It does not have to be his way, but it does not have to be only the tale of a faithful knight fighting for his lady either. Your love for and her throne will not be worth anything if we do not fight the real war.
The boy with wings and eyes that could see so far away took the bear away from the stinking slave market outside the walls of Meereen, and brought him back home, and even further north, to show him what bears and wolves should have never forgotten in the first place.