It was a dream. Of that, Jorah was certain. Ever since he'd first been exiled, he'd had these dreams nearly every night. He could see the snow-covered grounds of his home, feel the cold air, hear a bear's roar in the distance… each time he woke on the verge of crying. And yet, since he'd met Daenerys, the dreams had been less and less vivid. He couldn't say why, but the more time he spent with her, teaching her the ways of the Dothraki, seeing that gleam in her eyes when he told her she was learning well, making his heart thump hard against his chest… the less he dreamt of Bear Island. It was bizarre to him, a complete mystery, why this girl was affecting him so. Until tonight, that is. Tonight, the dreams were back. But they were different.
This one started the same as all the others. He was standing in the middle of a snowy forest, surrounded by trees, and instantly he recognized it as Bear Island. Instead of searching for his family, however, as he usually would have done in the dream, he spotted a hint of silver—not unlike the snow—out of the corner of his eye. He turned around, but it was gone. Looking down, he noticed footsteps leading down the snowy path to where the silver had disappeared. I have to go, he reminded himself. I have to go look for my family. Ignore the silver, it was probably nothing. And yet, even as he thought this, he found himself moving along the path of footsteps, tracing them back to their origin. No matter how he tried, he couldn't bring himself to stop following the footprints. His feet carried him for what seemed like hours, but still the path proceeded before him. Exhausted, he decided to stop and rest. He sighed and looked down at the ground, and gasped at what he saw.
The path of footsteps was still there, but now there was a second path, a more familiar path, crossing the first. I recognize those footsteps, Jorah realized. Lynesse. He wasn't sure how, but he knew those were Lynesse's footprints. He struggled with the sight. I could find her, he thought. I should stop chasing the silver, it will lead me nowhere. Lynesse is waiting for me. I should go to her. He stood up to follow Lynesse's steps when something silver once more flashed in the corner of his eye. He gasped and whirled around, but once more it was gone. He turned back and willed his feet to follow Lynesse's trail, but they wouldn't listen. Once more, he continued down the path that followed the silver. Stop, he wanted to cry. You're leading me down a path of sorrow. STOP!
But you don't care, whispered a small voice in the back of Jorah's mind. This path is indeed filled with sorrow, but to you, it is worth it.
"No!" shouted Jorah into the wind.
Yes, the voice continued. As long as you are able to stay by her side, you do not care about the consequences.
"Who's side?" Jorah cried. "Lynesse's? This is not her path! Why can't I follow her path!?"
No, not Lynesse, the voice hissed. Follow the silver…
And with that, the voice faded. Jorah fell to his knees with a cry. Why is this happening to me? he thought. All I want is home. Why is this happening?
Suddenly, he felt warm arms encircling him. Jorah tried to move, to look and see whose arms they were, but he couldn't. Rather, he didn't want to move. The arms felt safe, warm, loving… they felt like home. He wanted to feel them there forever. Finally, with an excruciating effort, he turned to look at the owner of those lovely arms. But once again, all he saw was a flash of silver, and then it was gone.
Jorah stood slowly, his mind made up. He ran down the silver's path, as fast as he could, desperate to get to the end. It seemed to stretch on forever, but he would not give up. At long last, the path came to an end. Jorah looked up to see what he'd found, and his breath caught in his throat.
Amidst all the snow was a red and black dragon, smoke rising from his nostrils.
No… there were three of them, Jorah saw as he looked beside the first one. Three dragons, and they were encircling something, guarding something… or someone. Jorah edged closer to see what they were guarding. In the center of the three of them, he saw a flash of silver. In that moment, he knew the dragons wouldn't hurt him. He raced to them, desperate to find the silver.
When he reached the center, the silver grew brighter and brighter, and Jorah had to cover his eyes from its brilliance. After a moment, the shine died down, and Jorah glanced up to see what looked to be a girl stepping out from the silver. She was… beautiful. Her snow-white skin glistened in the northern sun, her eyes were a bright violet that pierced Jorah's, and her hair… her hair was silver. The loveliest silver Jorah had ever seen. Awed by her beauty, Jorah fell to his knees in front of her. The girl's eyes bored into him, and he averted his gaze as he began to feel self-conscious under hers. When he finally gathered the courage to look back up, he saw her holding his hand out to him. She said nothing, but there was a fire in her eyes that told Jorah everything he needed to know.
Slowly, he took her hand. She drew him up and gave him a light kiss on his forehead. Jorah's heart was pounding and he was sure his face was beet-red, but he said nothing. He only followed her as she led him into the silver. He felt warm and safe as he felt the silver envelope him, but also sad. He knew this girl would give him as much sorrow as she did joy. But the voice had been right. He didn't care. As long as he was able to stay by her side, he knew he'd be the happiest man in the world. As the last of the silver closed around him, he heard her voice for the first time as she whispered, my bear.
Jorah woke up crying.