Chapter 3 : Jorah 1
Under the burning sun of Dotharki Sea, Ser Jorah Mormont try to keep his face straight, but apparently, the events unfolding in front of him is too much for him to keep just watching from afar. After years of working as mercenaries, and his recent work for the spider, he thinks he already seen everything about fighting, and definitely he already monitors the supposed stupid claimant-king Viserys Targaryen for a while. He does not prepare, however, to see with his own eyes, that despite all his antics of being a bad rider, his arrogance, and all the seemingly empty boasts of being a true Targaryen King, Viserys Targaryen just proven all his assumptions all wrong.
"His antics of being another annoying noble with no power to back him up must be a carefully constructed facade..." said Jorah to himself while looking at how the Targaryen Prince trying to make the defeated Khal of Dothraki stand and apparently ordering someone to bandage the stump of what's left on the now ex-Khal's right hand. "Interesting... I should watch for..."
Only for the Targaryen Prince himself apparently lift his head to his direction and looking at him for a while, and apparently ignoring him while he shouts some order to...
"Bury the dead and treat them with respect? Is he mad? The Dothraki never touch a corpse that they do not kill themselves because it will be considered as bad luck... wait... but..." Said Jorah while still amazed on how quickly all Dothraki riders that previously knelt in front of the Targaryen Prince now handle all the corpses without hesitation. "So they consider themselves already in bad luck over this very humiliating defeat today..."
And while he moves to fetch his horse and rides away, he could see Illyrio moves from Prince Viserys' side and ride toward him. This is not good...
"You! Mormont! What are you doing over here?" asked Illyrio while he quickly recognizes the sellsword when he comes close.
"Peace Illyrio, I am just here because I was bored and penniless to ever bought the cheapest ale..." said Jorah trying to get out of there quickly before Viserys' group could take a guess of his true allegiance.
"Prince... no King Viserys want to speak with you..." said Illyrio with a sneer. "Seems that you just get lucky today for a new job!"
"Wha... alright..." said Jorah while trying to walk as calmly toward the direction of one certain Viserys Targaryen without ever looking toward the face of Illyrio. Of course he wants to run, but what if Viserys ordered the Dothraki riders to charge at him? And well, he could settle for politeness instead, for now...
"Your grace..." said Jorah while bowing politely to the Targaryen claimant.
"Ser Jorah Mormont, the sellsword bear..." said Viserys Targaryen with a surprising politeness, considering that he alone just slaughtered more than two dozen of Dothraki warriors, all by himself. Jorah could see that this particular demonstration of such mastery of the sword, however, already took its toll for the Targaryen's body, as he was clearly breathed like he could fall in any moment and keep standing over by merely sheer force of will.
"I am... And congratulations for..."
"Why are you snooping here?"
"Pardon? I... I am here, looking for work... as usual?" Jorah could already feel the sense of fear, the one he feels when he heard Eddard Stark will come to execute him, but worse, because Viserys Targaryen stand right in front of him, still drenched in Dothraki blood, despite the fact that he is currently unarmed, with the sword he previously uses. But still, he quickly remembers how the supposed to be unarmed Viserys Targaryen could easily snatch Drogo's sword and use that against his group, and how his own sword still rest on his left hip, unsecured... but keeping his hand over the sword could easily convey the wrong message and.
"I see..." said Viserys while crack a polite smile. "You are looking for work, right? I could use another bodyguard... how much your usual price is?"
...
"I wish you to be my sister's bodyguard, how much is your price?" asked Viserys again, with the same politeness but with heavier tone behind his voice.
"A hundred Braavosi Iron coins for a month's work... you could always negotiate..." said Jorah while trying to hide his relieve that after all the fuss, Viserys Targaryen only want to hire him as a bodyguard work after all.
"You have the job, you could start by speaking to Illyrio after this... he will arrange everything." said Viserys while some Dothraki now present him with a large collection of hastily cut topknots and braid, including Drogo's own, who now already sport no hair on top of his head, being helped by some men to cut his own hair after his own failed attempt to use his left hand.
"..." Viserys didn't say anything other than receiving the gift of braids and hairs with utmost respect. "You can go, this is enough for today, I will speak with you more tommorow..."
"I beg my leave your grace..." said Jorah while politely bow.
"Thank you, now forgive me, but I need to catch some rest..." said Viserys.
