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Bear Baiting, or How to Marry Jorah Mormont Without His Realizing It: Jorah

By the third ship to arrive from the continent within two months, Jorah had an inkling that something was the matter. When he'd checked, and rechecked, with all the other council members regarding the continued skirmishes with the Ironborn, his only answer had been to the negative that these unusual goings-on had anything to do with that. Yet, they didn't offer up additional information to alleviate his confusion, and concern, at just how many ships had come from the continent in such a short timeframe.

The first two ships had held lords and ladies of the various vassal houses of the north, some in connection to his house, but mostly in connection to the Starks. His aunt had kept the arrivals isolated from Jorah's inquisitive eye and even his cousins had monopolized the visitors with various tours and outings that were a far cry from their usual reception of visitors. There was assuredly something the matter and Jorah was determined to get to the bottom of it.

With this notion in mind, he strode to the docks to greet the newcomers himself, before either his aunt, his cousins, or their bear-like minions could get there. When he spied both Lord and Lady Stark coming off the ship, Jorah had confirmation that his aunt was up to something that she didn't want him to know about. As to the nature of it, be it malevolent towards himself or not, he had yet to determine. Jorah pasted a smile on his face as he drew closer, his smile growing genuine when the Stark children all filed off the ship after their parents, the two youngest being carried by their nursemaids. They were each in various state of disarray but they each looked happy and healthy.

"Lord Robb," Jorah greeted him first, extending his hand and giving Robb's a firm shake before he turned his attention to Sascha. She took his hand into a similarly firm shake before he had a chance to debate whether or not to shake her hand. "Lady Sascha." Jorah looked to the children and greeted each in turn. His greetings wavered a bit when two wolf hounds leapt onto the dock, and a dog-sized cat sauntered its way down the gangplank and came to rub against the young Arra's legs. "I see you brought the whole family." Jorah gave Robb and Sascha an amused look and saw Robb's eye rolling and thought he saw Sascha heave a little sigh. "As long as we keep them away from my aunt's bear enclosure we-"

"Bear enclosure?" Arra's eyes looked ready to pop out of her face so much was her excitement. "Can I see the bears?" She looked to her parents but then, realizing they had no authority here, or at least assuming so, she turned back to Jorah and looked like she was to wet herself. "Please, may I see them?"

Jorah looked to Robb and Sascha for help, but they miraculously maintained neutral expressions. Their daughter asking to be let in with dangerous animals was a common enough occurrence for them that the concept of this unfazed them. Jorah returned his smile to the young Stark.

"I will ask my aunt what she thinks would be best. The bears are, after all, hers to take care of, and she would know best what they might think of a young visitor."

"Can Ser see the bears too?"

Arra's rapid-fire question had Jorah looking back to her parents for answers. Robb gave a subtle point towards the cat, and his accompanying smile had Jorah realizing that the parents were genuinely amused at watching him falter his way through this conversation with Arra.

"I don't think that would be a good idea. The bears might think Ser is a new chew toy or food." Arra's look of disappointment had Jorah scrambling forward. "But we can show Ser some other nice places and things while you are here. How does that sound?"

Arra nodded and, before any of them could stop her, immediately attached herself to one of Jorah's dockworkers and proceeded to ask him as many questions as she had breath in her body. Sascha took young Lyarra from the nursemaid and nodded for the woman to trail after Arra. This too seemed a common occurrence for the family. A small hand tugging on the ties of his cloak had Jorah turning back towards the Starks remaining and he found the other nursemaid holding Robar out for him to take. While the offering was strange, Jorah's arms came up instinctively and the little boy was deposited into his arms while nursemaid returned to the ship.

"Thank you for coming to greet us, and helping with the children," Sascha spoke up as she jostled Lyarra on her hip, "it is so nice to see you again, Jorah. And in such good health. It seems Bear Island was exactly what you needed to get your blood flowing again."

Robb gathered up the leashes of the wolf hounds from one of the servants standing behind him, and that servant too returned to the ship, "Shall we head towards Mormont Keep? The servants will bring the rest of our things, and I'm sure Arra will return once she's exhausted her new source of information."

Robar pulled a little at Jorah's beard but not enough to hurt. He was most likely used to bearded men, considering Robb had yet to rid himself of his own even after the mourning time for his father had ended. Jorah shifted the boy's weight to a more solid state in his arms and led the way off the docks. His mind was full of questions but he had the distinct feeling that neither Robb nor Sascha would answer him with satisfactory detail. Instead, he kept the topic to matters of the north, and they traded reports of the Wall and the borderlands to the south in the Neck and nearly everything in between by the time they made it to the Great Hall. His aunt was already waiting for them, as were his cousins, and as Jorah had suspected would happen his aunt instructed him to go to the other side of the island to retrieve an item that had been delivered to their northernmost port.

"And be sure to be back in time for dinner." His aunt called after him. "Now that we have so many guests, it would be rude to start dinner late because of one tardy Mormont."

Jorah nodded, though he kept his mouth shut, and headed towards the stables. Along the way, his eyes spied Erlora, and he deviated from his path just enough to take hold of her wrist and tug her into a quiet alcove along the keep's walls. Erlora momentarily looked surprised but, noticing that it was Jorah who had snagged her, smiled, and relaxed her stance.

"Out with it." Jorah crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the pint-sized woman.

Erlora's smiling disposition refused to wither at his glare, "Whatever do you mean, Jorah?"

"Something is going on around here, and I believe you know what is happening. You weren't a little bird for so many years only to come here and lose your ability to figure things out. So," Jorah gestured to the increased activity of the servants as they darted to and from in the courtyard, "what is the meaning behind all this?"

"Well, I think there is going to be a big ceremony tonight before dinner."

Jorah sighed, "I gathered that much as well, Erlora, now quit stalling. What ceremony is going to take place tonight?"

Before Erlora could respond, Lyanna came storming across the courtyard and looked ready to kick Jorah's shin.

"Mother told you to get on with your errands, and Erlora, Dacey needs you."

"Very well," Jorah turned to speak to Erlora a bit more, but Lyanna grabbed hold of Erlora's arm and jerked her away from Jorah's reach.

"I do believe the word, now, applies here." Lyanna looked ready to stick her tongue out at Jorah as she dragged Erlora away. Erlora looked apologetic but also determined, and this had Jorah even more curious.

He could ignore his aunt's demand and not go on the errand, remaining hidden here to get to the bottom of things. But, at the same time, he had no notion of what it was he was picking up and perhaps it was needed for the ceremony tonight and, from the looks of things, it appeared he was the freest to do it. Jorah growled and stormed to the stables. He knew things would be revealed this evening but until then, he would have to deal with the annoyance of seemingly being the only one around here not knowing just what the hell was going on.

It took quite a few hours to get to the northern port and, so long as he didn't delay in his return, Jorah knew he would have just enough time to clean up before dinner. When he arrived at the port, there was indeed an item waiting for him on the docks accompanied by a member of the Night's Watch. Jorah's curiosity level increased dramatically.

"Are you of the Mormont house?" The Night Watch soldier questioned when Jorah drew near. "I mean, are you of the house itself?"

Jorah nodded, "I am Jorah Mormont. What is this?" He pointed to the long crate at the man's feet.

"I have been given instructions from Lord Commander Snow to deliver this to a member of the Mormont house. As you're Lord Mormont himself, I think that you will do." The solider handed Jorah a thin lever and stepped back. "I am to watch you open the crate and ensure the goods are delivered to you directly before I depart back to my post."

Jorah eyed the man, the crate, and the lever before taking a deep breath and sighing it out. This was beyond ridiculous, whatever the hell it was, but if this crate came from Jon Snow himself, and if his aunt knew about it and wanted it, then it must be damned important. Jorah knelt and began to unfasten the crate top. A sickeningly sweet smell, like rotting flesh, came out from under the lid. He turned to look at the Night Watch soldier but the man kept up his neutral expression. Jorah finished with the lid and pushed it aside. He saw the source of the smell; a number of untanned hides seemed to be covering the main item of the crate.

"It is like a crate of death," Jorah remarked to himself, though he heard the solider behind him grunt his reply.

Jorah pushed aside the still-bloody and decaying skins until he found the main item. His heartbeat quickened, and he hadn't even unwrapped the item from the layers of protective oilcloth covering it.

"The tide is turning now, Lord Mormont. I see that you've gotten the item, so I will consider my duties discharged if it pleases you."

Jorah nodded his assent but didn't take his eyes from the sword, and it was a sword even covered in the wrappings as it was. He stood up and shifted away from the awful smell of the hides, slowly unwrapping the sword. From the weight of it, Jorah felt he already knew what it was, but that didn't stop his confusion. Even when the wrappings fell away and he recognized the sheath and hilt of Longclaw, the ancestral sword of the Mormont's. Why would Jon Snow be returning this sword to him, now, or ever? Jorah knew his father had given the sword to Jon, and rightfully so at that. When they had met up before the battle at the Wall, Jon had offered to give it back but Jorah had given the man his blessing at keeping it. And now, Jorah held Longclaw in his hands and the Night Watch soldier had gotten back into his boat and pushed away from the dock before Jorah could attempt to ask him more of these happenings.

Jorah looked back down to the hides. They were presently ghastly but still salvageable. As Jorah strapped Longclaw to his sword belt, he gave instructions for the hides to be tanned and given out to the family in most need in the village nearby. This done, he returned to his horse and began his journey back to the keep. His mind was reeling and the fact that his aunt had known of this only made him question further.

These questions didn't go away, not even after he arrived at the keep earlier than expected. After he'd announced his presence, Lord Stark and a number of the other lords attending him, all surrounded Jorah and insisted that they visit the famous hot springs of Bear Island before dinner. Not unlike Winterfell, the keep on Bear Island fought the cold elements by having the hot water piped through the floors of the buildings and also had several subterranean chambers with pools of the mineral-filled water, much like Harrenhal. Although the timing of the request seemed odd to Jorah, especially since his aunt had made such a fuss about starting on time, Jorah made little effort to protest and led the way to the traditional room for male bathing.

"I see an old friend has come back to you," Robb mentioned as they all disrobed and made for the vast pool of steaming water.

Jorah looked down at Longclaw then back to Robb, "I had no intention of ever taking it back from your brother. I will not lie and say I'm unhappy to have it back, but I am confused."

"Well, don't worry about him being without a sword." Robb hissed a bit at the first contact of the warm water but quickly grew used it and partially submerged himself. "Jamie Lannister, or," Robb smirked and waited until the splashing noises of the others joining the pool ceased before he continued again, "as he is now Jamie of Tarth, sent Widow's Wail to me with his condolences. I, in turn, sent the sword on up to Jon. We had discussed the matter of Longclaw in private some time ago and the fortuitous arrival of Widow's Wail, as you know the sister sword of Oathkeeper, and the only remains of our father's greatsword Ice, well that made the decision for us. Longclaw was to return to you and the Mormont's, where it rightfully should be, and Jon would continue to use the remains of Ice to defend the north."

Jorah nodded, though his mind was still stuck on one detail in particular, "Jamie of Tarth, you said?"

"Yes, it seems that the Lady Tarth asked Jamie Lannister to marry her, and he accepted. They were wed about a fortnight ago, well more like a month ago due to the raven's delay. He has taken on her name and has assumed the more diplomatic duties required of running the Islands. It was his letter informing of their surprising matrimonial connection that accompanied both Longclaw as well as Oathkeeper." At Jorah's look, Robb shrugged. "I suppose the Lady Brienne saw no more need in keeping the sword now that her pledge to my house was over. Perhaps they will forge their own swords."

"As fitting for a new marriage." Lord Glover spoke up then, bringing their attention to him. "It is important in marriage to be willing to start new things, and not just rely on the old."

"Aye," added Lord Ryswell, "I remember when my wife and I were first married-"

Jorah looked between Robb and the other lords. He just realized that he was the only unmarried man in the group, and this was increasingly feeling like a bathing ritual. As he listened to Lord Ryswell retell stories of his successes and failures in marriage, Jorah continued to study Robb, looking for any hint that his suspicions were correct. Was this indeed an ancient bathing ritual? Bear Island was not unique in this ritual, though it was one of the last to follow the old ways still. It was a tradition that on the night before his marriage, and after he had successfully passed through death into manhood and had retrieved an ancestral sword from his ancestor's grave, the groom-to-be would then go to a bathhouse with his father and brothers and all his married attendants. There, while they washed, the married men would teach the groom-to-be all the secrets of being a good husband. While he had not taken Longclaw from his father's grave, he had pulled it out of a crate filled with bear hides, so that could be an allusion to the tradition, a cheat of sorts to be close to the old ways but not entirely on point.

Lord Ryswell concluded his story, and Lord Glover again took up the mantle of advice-giving. Jorah glared at Robb. What was the meaning of all this anyway? Jorah was not betrothed and as far as he knew, none of the other houses had offered up a daughter or a niece as a possible match. While he felt strongly for Erlora, it didn't seem feasible that his family would be in favor of such a match. The longer Jorah pondered the situation, the more Jorah got the feeling that even if he was to ask up front whether or not this was truly a pre-marriage bathing ritual, all the men present would deny it or tell another story of their marriage.

Robb smirked at Jorah as he relaxed more comfortably in the water. Robb knew exactly what was going on here, and he relished having the knowledge over Jorah. Jorah groaned. As unsettling as this bathing ritual, he could only imagine how much worse the coming dinner would be.

Bear Baiting, or How to Marry Jorah Mormont Without His Realizing It: Erlora

"Are you certain?"

Erlora's whole body still felt cold from the bath she had undergone just moments before. After the warm waters she had shared with Lady Maege and all the other married ladies of the house, including Lady Sascha, all the while they offered up their advice on marriage and how to make it work, Erlora had been instructed to jump into a cold pool. Then Lady Maege had been the one to collect the clothing and small jewels Erlora had been wearing when she had first arrived on Bear Island. The woman placed them in a simply decorated box. At the appropriate time, this box was to be given away during the coming ceremony. Now she was dressed in Bear Island-style clothing, although she had a Free City style cloak on her shoulders.

Erlora moved away from the looking glass and turned to face the one who had brought her the cloak, her brother, "I would never have involved you in these negotiations and asked you to come here if I were not."

Daario smiled, "No, you have always been too practical to act on whims and flights of fancy. Unlike myself, of course." Erlora reached out to comfort him, as he still mourned the loss of the dragon queen, who had been and would remain his Khaleesi in his heart. "Although it has profited me, at least of late. I am in control of some of the largest port cities in Essos and command an army of Unsullied. I lack dragons, of course, but I make up for it in other ways."

"I am certain she would approve of your ruling." Erlora tucked her hand under her brother's chin and tipped it back up so she could see his face. "You are a fierce man and a strong one. There is no need to live in the past."

"Have you a mind to marry me off to one of these bear-women?" Daario's cheeky grin came back, the passing cloud of grief blown away for the time.

"And do any of them strike your interest?"

Daario chuckled as he placed the crown on her head. He had managed to bring a few vines native to the Free Cities that were used to twist together with some of the flowering ivy grown in the warm rooms of Mormont Keep. Green and red silken cords wove around the greenery and altogether they made a beautiful yet straightforward natural crown and this was all the adornment Erlora was to wear for the ceremony. Her hair was brushed to shine and lay about her shoulders, and her clothing was simple and flattering.

"I doubt any of them would want to bear the heat and the wilds of Essos."

Erlora grinned, "That was not a no, then. I will be sure to have each of the Mormont women dance with you." Daario looked akin to horrified and Erlora's mirth increased. "Starting with Lady Maege."

Before Daario could protest, they were informed of the ceremony's start. Daario took Erlora's arm and wrapped it around his elbow. They had been close for a time, when very young and before he'd run off to do his sword-wielding ways. Then, during their time working with the Khaleesi, they had grown close once more. Daario was her only living relative that she cared for, or even considered family. That he would take the time and make the perilous, and time-consuming journey to come here for this had Erlora feeling cherished.

Daario had very nearly not made it; in fact, having arrived within the hour of the Stark's ship, and thankfully after Jorah's departure. Though the negotiations for date and time, and the dowry and all other such details had been conducted through ravens, a rehashing had occurred in the Great Hall between Daario and all the other lords of the north. Lord Stark had taken up his place beside Lady Maege and together they had made sure the date—today—and the dowry—Daario's alliance with their House—were settled before making preparations for the rest of the evening.

The most significant concern, according to Jory, was whether or not they would have enough mead for the ceremony and the month after, as it was in the old ways that the mead should be enough for the bride and groom to get drunk during the ceremonial feast and to use in their household for up to a month after the fact. Some of the lords of the other houses had brought casks of mead from their households, to supplement any lack that might occur from the Mormont's. It hadn't been an ideal solution but a necessary one if the wedding was to take place today, and it had been agreed upon by all parties—save Jorah—that today was to be the day.

"Let me make sure I understand what is to happen," Daario spoke low so only Erlora could hear him as they made their way through the corridors toward the Great Hall, "when you give me the box of your old stuff I am to place my dagger on top for you to take?"

Erlora nodded, "I will then give that to Jorah, and he will give me his sword."

"I don't want that sword. I have not a clue how to use a thing like that." Daario's preferred weapons had always been lighter, more maneuverable.

"I will not give you the sword. I keep it. For our future children."

Daario frowned, "So I get a box of old clothes, and you get a sword nearly the same size as you?" He shrugged. "Seems fair."

They shared a chuckle just as the doors to the Great Hall opened before them. Erlora spotted Jorah immediately. He was standing between Lord Robb and Lord Flint and looked every bit as confused as she had expected him to look. It seemed they had been in conversation just before the doors had opened and as she and Daario made their way down the currently being-made aisle of people, Erlora saw Jorah's mouth drop open in shock. She didn't know how they had managed to get Jorah dressed in such simple clothes for what he supposed to be a grand ceremony without giving it away but that again was the tradition. Both bride and groom would wear very simple clothes but where the bride's adornment was her bridal crown, the groom's adornment was his ancestral sword and a pendant made from bear claws.

As they moved closer, Lord Robb and Lord Flint took up position on either side of Jorah and shuffled him into place. Jorah's eyes were wide, and they were glancing every which way, no doubt studying all the members of his household, who had now all taken their place at the end of the makeshift aisle of people. Thankfully, he did not look horrified or disgusted with what was about to take place. However, certainly, confused and shocked.

Daario stopped just short of the raised platform on which the other Mormont's stood. He turned to Erlora, and as she held out the box to him, he placed his dagger on top. She took the dagger as he took the box. He nodded to Jorah then stepped aside to join the rest of the mass of people. Jorah stood still until Lord Robb all but shoved him forward. He tripped as he came and Erlora had to help right him, a smile on her face. She held out the dagger to him expectantly, hoping that he would see reason without questioning the ceremony. She loved him, and she knew without asking that he loved her, and it was high time they made this official.

Jorah moved without a word. He took the dagger and tied it to his belt before he untied his swordbelt with the sword still attached. He leaned forward and pulled Erlora into a semi-embrace as he wrapped the sword belt around her twice before securing it in place, pausing just long enough for her to help in the securing. When he stood again, Erlora saw peace and happiness at the corners of Jorah's eyes, and she felt her heart swell within her chest. Jorah turned to face his aunt and Erlora did the same.

"Do you accept this man?" Lady Maege asked, simple and to the point.

"I do."

Lady Maege looked to Jorah and spoke in a tone of voice that boded ill for anyone to answer wrong, "Do you accept this woman?"

Jorah nodded without fear, "I do."

"Then, with your cloak, lay claim to your wife."

Jorah undid the cloak at his neck, and, with a little help again from Erlora, he undid her Free City cloak and set his Mormont cloak in its place.

"Lay claim to your husband with your ring."

Erlora took Jorah's hand and settled the only other thing Daario had brought from their home. It was a traditional wedding ring from the Free Cities, and she had made sure the colors would match the Mormont's.

"If anyone should have reason to contend with this union, let them make themselves known, on the point of death." Erlora smiled. She knew the old customs enough to know that the death threat was NOT part of the traditions but it was fitting for Lady Maege to add it. When no one spoke up, not even a sneeze, Lady Maege grinned, "Now you can get on with it, nephew, and kiss your bride."

Jorah did not need any more incentive. Erlora's breath was taken from her as he swept her against him and pressed his lips to her. They had kissed plenty of times before, and it was not that this kiss was spectacular of its own, but the knowledge that she was now kissing her husband made the kiss all the sweeter to her. Erlora's hands came up and wrapped themselves around Jorah's neck. She felt more at home now than she had felt ever in her life and from the looks of joy in Jorah's eyes when he finally pulled away to look at her, it seemed he felt similarly.

"Let the feasting begin!" Lady Maege yelled, and cheers went up across the Great Hall.

"About damned time," Erlora heard Lyanna complain, "I'm hungry."

Completely ignoring friends and family, Jorah still had eyes only for Erlora, "How long has this been planned?"

Erlora grinned but stepped back as her brother approached, "I think you have met before back in Essos, but husband," Erlora's smile grew as she said it, "my brother Daario."

Daario was a bit awkward in the offer of the northern handshake, but Jorah readily accepted it, "It has been some time since we last saw each other."

"Yes," Daario's eyes glinted with mischief, "we both loved the same woman then and," he turned to Erlora, "it seems we both love the same woman now." He stroked her cheek before looking back to Jorah, "I know you will be good to her or else she will be done with you."

Jorah smiled, "She has been good to me and her love honors me." He kissed her cheek and Erlora felt her feet might have wings.

Daario looked ready to retreat back into the crowd, but Erlora remembered her earlier threat, "Lyra!" The young woman looked up amid a huge gulp of mead. "My brother Daario would love a dance."

Daario glared daggers at Erlora but a moment before Lyra happily joined him and then he was all charm and good graces. Jorah laughed at the exchange before he started to lead Erlora to the table. She stopped him and shook her head.

"We have both waited long enough, Jorah." She leaned forward and gently nipped at his neck as she whispered in his ear, "Let us get out of here while they are all distracted."

Jorah's cheeked reddened with delight as he all but ran from the room, Erlora surprisingly keeping pace with him. They did not pay attention to the calls and cheers of the feast goers. They were too intent upon finally, after all these years, becoming one in body as well as in heart.