Sister's Keeper

Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Warning: This chapter is Rated M for Sexual content.

Languages:

Common Tongue

Dothraki

Chapter 69: Rekindle

Jorah's POV

He awoke to the sounds of the ocean, as the waves crashed along the rocks along with a soft roaring of thunder. A storm was passing by. Opening his eyes, he stared at golden-white hair. Jorah realized he was spooning Alysanne as she slept. A small smile graced his lips as his thoughts linger about what happen last night. A lot was said, and it was clear Alysanne was holding back many secrets that she needed to get off her chest. No one should feel like they have the weight of the world on their shoulders. He felt honored that Alysanne trusted him with her secrets, not expecting it so soon, and thought the worst of the situation.

Things went much better than he had expected. Of course, he was met with a dagger to his neck, but he was still alive. He will forever keep his promise to her. He would rather die than betray her again. Knowing that Alysanne felt alone in this conquest, he will do what he can to support her, no matter what her decision is.

Alysanne stirred, turning her body to lay almost flat while hugging a pillow. The motion had him laying almost on top of her. A slight groan left his lips, since his member formed to the cleft of her bum. Feeling her honey pot, still wet from last night. He had to take a deep breath to control himself, not wanting to rush things.

Carefully he tried to move away until his eyes focused on the scar on her back. The long-jagged scar from her shoulder to waist. How she got that scar, he'll forever regret. Back in the Daznak Pit, when the Sons of the Harpy ambushed the Great Games in attempt to assassinate Alysanne. Both Drogon and Viserion came. Daenerys riding the black dragon to escape, distracting them all when two Harpies struck Alysanne down. Out of instinct, he leaned down kissing the scar.

Alysanne stirred, scooting back into him. Jorah debated if he should let her sleep in. They'd been up late last night, being intimate. He glanced out the balcony to estimate the time, the sky was a dark grey, the rain pouring down not showing any indication if it was early morning or not. Alysanne told him Missandei won't be attending to her for today. Wondering if his Queen intended to sleep in or something else?

"Jorah," Alysanne mumbled waking up.

Jorah secured his right arm around her waist while brushing his nose along her neck, "I'm here."

She hummed, adjusting some to see him. Unfortunately, her frame pressed further into him causing him to groan. Immediately his hold tightening, pressing firmly against her. She gasped feeling his morning erection pressed against her folds.

"Don't move," He warned, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Sadly, he made the big mistake of saying 'Don't' unaware of the smirk his lover held. As she deliberately rocked her hips against him. He groaned again. "Alysanne…"

"Hmm?" she replied innocently, wiggling against him.

Jorah decided she wanted this, turned her over so she was officially laying on her stomach. Wanting to get his slight revenge, he moved her hair to the side and started kissing her back. Gently nibbling the flesh and licks here and there, receiving several gasps and shudders. He continued down to her buttocks, giving a nip. She gasped not expecting it, which he chuckled before sliding a hand between her legs and inserting two fingers inside her. Alysanne groaned, her core already wet for him. But Jorah wanted to make sure she was prepared, before he got into position and slide in her slowly. She gasped and groaned, burying her head into the pillow.

Jorah caressed her side, pressing his body against her back. He groaned against her ear, feeling how hot, wet, and tight she was. They stayed joined, as Jorah nuzzled her neck, kissing it, as he made his way to her ear suckling it. Alysanne moaned, turning her head slightly to meet his lips. They kissed, tongues dancing one another. The year and many months of separation had their bodies begging for touch. Jorah doubts they'll be leaving this room for the rest of the day. His thoughts vanished feeling her walls clenching while her hips pushed back begging him to move. A chuckle escaped his lips, as he started thrusting his hips at a slow and steady pace.

"Jorah," She moaned, clenching the sheets.

He groaned, feeling the sweet torture on her walls clenching around him. She tried moving her hips back to increase the pace, but he wouldn't allow it. What he wanted is for her to enjoy it without effort. So, he adjusted himself so he laid completely on top of her, pressing her down deep into the mattress. He took her hands entwinning their fingers, while his legs were retaining hers. He strokes deep inside her, grazing the spot he knew made her come undone. Despite the torture for himself, to take her for his release, he wanted to ensure she found her release first. In and out, deep penetrating strokes. Lips claiming her shoulders, neck and ear. There was a slight temptation to mark her, present his claimant on her flesh, but knew that would not be wise.

Alysanne whimpered trying to move but couldn't. Her body was on fire due to her desire, as her senses were drowned by him. All they could hear was their soft sounds of pleasures, the smacking of skin against skin, the waves crashing on the rocks and the storm outside. Jorah moved one of her hands, to be held by his left, while his right slithered down under her and teased her clit. She yelped, before pressing her mons against his hand, panting rapidly seeking release. To ease her torture, he increased his pace, rocking his hips thrusting against her with increasing force. The tension coiled inside him, as he ground his teeth focusing how she writhed beneath me.

"Jorah, please," she begged.

Unable to resist anymore, he thrust hard, feeling her tight body grasping him. She reached her peak and tipped over, muscles clenching at the tides of bliss that swept over her, as she cried out in sheer ecstasy. Jorah groaned, seeking his release, thrusting faster, harder until he suddenly came, spilling his seeds inside her reaching his own pinnacle. He collapsed on top of her, remaining joined.

In the haze, Jorah thoughts linger on what if his seeds securing inside her produced a child. When he was younger, all he ever wanted was a family of his own. When in the Veil, seeing Joren, of the possibility of a child with Alysanne. But then he remembered she was on the Lys elixir, let alone where their uncertain future would go. She was a Queen, although they both have each other's hearts, their future is undetermined from the wars that were to come. If they were in Meereen he would have asked her…but they were not in Essos.

Slowly he pulled out and laid down next to her, seeing her face flushed as she was still recovering from her orgasm. He traced his fingers on her back, along the spine and scar. She opened her eyes, those indigo eyes that were filled with love. Alysanne scooted closer cradling his cheek before leaning in and kissing him. Jorah kissed her back, keeping it soft and gentle.

When she pulled back, she smiled, "That's one way to wake up."

Jorah nodded, securing an arm around her.

They stayed like this for some time, cherishing the moment. He combed his fingers through her short hair, noting it was easier to move through compared to her previous long locks.

"You've cut your hair," he murmured.

"It was part of the ritual to bring me back," she sighed. "A bit short for my liking."

Jorah snorted, as he tried to find some humor, "Easier to brush."

"As if you had long hair," she muttered. Jorah paused which caught her attention. "Seriously?"

"During my younger years," he said as he sat up and stretched.

"That would have been something to see," she teased.

Jorah simply nodded, young men if not most men in the North have long hair that at least goes to their chin or shoulders. Grooming wasn't really a thing. Although, it was not too long or men be teased of being a woman. Although, after some time, he just cut it to a good length to manage, especially when in Essos as the weather wasn't too kind.

Alysanne sighed as she sat up, "Must we get up?"

He smiled, "The choice is yours."

"Sadly, I have to prepare for the next attack, if not convince my War Council to change their focus to the Great War." She said as she climbed out of bed.

"They want you to focus on the Lannisters," Jorah assumed, watching her going to the basin, pouring water to wash her face.

"Yes, I'm sure you know what the Lannisters did in the past, and heard what Cersei did to the Tyrells?"

Jorah nodded, he knew what Tywin Lannister did to Elia Martell and her children. He was there after the sacking, being one of the Northern Houses to see the them cover in Lannister flags. Even the red of the banners could not mask the crimson blood. He thanked the Old Gods he did not see their condition; he'd probably be unable to live with himself if he had. When he arrived in Westeros, he heard what Cersei Lannister did to avoid being sentenced guilty. Blowing up the Great Sept of Baelor, killing thousands of people, including half of the Tyrell family. All because the Lioness did not want to be found and charge guilty. Based on the charges and evidence, there was no chance of escaping the execution.

"The Martells and the Tyrells want justice, the Velaryon and Celtigar, they support me because of blood…but Lord Ardrian could change his mind anytime he wants. If only there was a way to show them of the greater threat." She said, as she took a rag and washed between her legs.

Jorah nodded; he too has not seen the monsters that Alysanne have seen in her vision. But he believes in her, since her visions came true about the Red Wedding. Also, he made a promise to Rhaegar to protect her.

"I don't suppose you have my armor from the pit?" Jorah asked.

"Sadly, it got burned." She answered. "I'll take you to see the blacksmith to forge you better armor."

"I would appreciate it," he said, and remained sitting there aweing at her. Watching her wash her body.

She stopped looking at him, "What?"

"Sometimes I have a hard time believing you are real," he murmured.

Alysanne smiled as she came over straddling his lap. "You said that to me in Qarth."

He nodded wrapping his arms around her. "I spoke the truth."

"You are my most trusted advisor, my most valued general, loyal confidant, and my dearest friend." She said cradling his cheek staring into his eyes. "And truest lover."

Not a second later, their lips met.

No doubt they did not leave the royal bedchambers until noon when their bodies needed substances. Jorah did not mind it at all. Enjoying every moment of it.

.o0o.

Alysanne's POV

"You look happy," Daenerys said as she enters the Painted Table.

I was alone, wanting some time to think of possible battle strategies. Calculating the whereabouts of my army and whether or not I should continue the Siege of King's Landing. There are two wars, one happening now, and one greater than this. The question is, do I have enough time for the Great War to acquire more armies or not? Jon Snow told me the North roughly has twenty-thousand men. I need to speak with him, on his estimation of what the Army of the Dead has, since he last saw them.

Then again, my attention would change back to last night and this morning. Angry sex, making love, fucking, and never ending of being intimate until our stomachs begged for food. To say I was satisfied was an understatement. If I wasn't on the Lys elixir, there would have been a chance of pregnancy. Luckily, I was. Because as much as I love children, now is not the time to produce one. Not while Cersei sits on the Iron Throne and the Night King having his army marching south. Still, it was like a strong pull was yanking Jorah and I together.

After our morning together, I had led Jorah to the blacksmith from Qohor. The one who forged my armor and finished making Ser Barristan's armor a few weeks ago. The Qohorik smith did an excellent job in his work, when training in my armor Ser Barristan got rather harsh. The vibration being felt under the metal, however what should have left a massive dent or scratch there were none. As if the metal was close to being Valyrian steel. Then again Qohor was the city of Sorcerers, as Daenerys joked that my armor was enchanted. So, I left Jorah with the blacksmith as he took measurements.

No offence to his three previous armors. His first being more suitable for battle, while his other two were either incomplete or only suitable for the climate. After the Daznak Pit and seeing his previous armor before it had to be burned from contamination, I saw several indications of damages. Over time those flaws would've cracked and killed him.

"Hmm?" I replied.

"Did you sleep well?" Daenerys asked as she came over. "I've noticed you didn't join me for breakfast or lunch…"

"I slept perfectly fine," I answered, staring at the map.

"And Ser Jorah was absent," she added.

I groaned, not bothering to play this game, "Yes, he stayed in my room. Yes, we did more than just sleep. Anything else?"

Daenerys chuckled with a smile, "I'm glad to hear that you and Ser Jorah are back together."

"It's hard not to," I sighed.

"You two deserve each other," she said as she places her hand on my shoulder. "Despite the past, you should be happy."

"I am happy," I assure her. "I'm still adjusting that he is back and alive. I prepared myself for his death from Greyscale, now seeing him here is a lot to take in. I'm also scared of losing him."

Daenerys nodded giving me a hug.

"It's hard to decide what matters most, love, duty, or power," I confessed, pulling away from her.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Yes, you do," I replied looking at her. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, you're my sister," She said with a smile.

"Then why do you keep challenging me?"

Her face dropped. "I don't know what you mean."

"You've been challenging my authority again and again since arriving at Dragonstone. Telling me how I should use my forces, embarrassing me in front of our allies, and telling me how I should rule."

Daenerys didn't say anything.

"You may be a Khaleesi to the Dothraki, but I am supposed to be Queen of Westeros. A different political world. One that has a code of honor."

"Yet Cersei has the advantage by using violence," She countered.

"And we have dragons," I reminded.

"Dragons you hardly use," She spat.

Something snapped inside me. The dark piece inside of me that I've been trying to suppress. As my arm wrapped around her neck, forcing her into a headlock. She gasped, scratching at my arms trying to break free, yet I had a good hold on her. Adding pressure around her neck, but not enough to suffocate her only to restrain her. Along with adding my weight to her shoulders so she can experience what I have been feeling lately.

"This is how I feel," I growl in her ear. "Ever since I've been resurrected, ever since our campaign, I felt the world crushing down on me. You and everyone else telling me how I should bloody damn rule." I added more weight while grabbing her left arm and forced it behind her back. She gasped, almost whimpering, "That is how I feel with you. You trying to bend me to be what you want, a Feared Queen. I did not risk my life, to be abused by Viserys so you can tell me what to do. I did not risk my hand in marriage, so you can fondle with other men. I did not die and come back, so you can rule through me. Between your rank and mine, who is the leader of this campaign?"

"You are," She whimpered.

"Who is going to be Queen here," I growled.

"You are."

"I love you Dany, but you need to respect my authority and decision." I said and let her go.

She stumbled back rubbing her shoulder in shock for what I did to her.

"I'm tired of people telling me what I need to do, how I should be Queen." I told her tiredly. "I did not come here to be Queen of the Ashes. I came to Westeros, to save the people from the Long Night and restore House Targaryens name. We are in the shadow of our Father. He grew mad, so mad to the point that he was willing to set wildfire upon King's Landing. When you advised I burn Lord Randyll Tarly and his son…I had a vision of our father burning two men…in a hideous act that the gods could never forgive. The smallfolk don't care who sits on the Iron Throne, but the nobles…they can never forget the cruel vicious actions our father did. I was born on the day he executed ten noble lords, one of them being a woman who was accused of being a witch. I already have a dark mark on me…I must prove to them I am better than Father. But I can't rely on the Motto Fire and Blood every single time."

"Alysanne…"

"Daenerys, please don't make me look at you as my rival. I started my campaign for us to go home…don't make me regret it."

Daenerys looked down, hopefully realizing how her actions as of late have been.

"The dragon has three heads," I reminded her. "We are two of the three. The last of House Targaryen by name and blood. If we are going to take back our home…we must play the game. Those who cheat end up dead." I turned my attention to the Painted Table. "However, with the Long Night fast approaching… there are worse things to consider."

"I just wish I can understand what you saw in your visions," she said resting a hand on my shoulder.

"I need you to trust me," I said resting a hand on her shoulder. "Let me lead in how I want to lead."

Daenerys nodded.

I took a deep breath and hugged her, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," she mumbled.

"You are a Khaleesi, the Dothraki rely on brutality and strength. But I am the Dragon Queen, I must rely on balance."

Daenerys nodded.

I sighed, I regretted in putting Daenerys in a headlock. I hated that I had to force myself on her to listen. It reminded me of Viserys, but I keep reminding myself I wasn't threatening her. I was reminding her where our positions stands. In the beginning we were supposed to rule Westeros together. But now…I don't know if we can rule together. Back in Meereen I was doing the majority of the work. Now…she has a Khalasar, she was the Queen of the Dothraki, and after the wars in Westeros, the Dothraki will want to return back to the great grass sea. Back to their loved ones and familiar culture. Daenerys needs to realize that. She will either return to Essos or abdicate her position as the Great Khaleesi and send her bloodriders home.

We turned out attention to the Painted Table. Thoughts linger on how many times our ancestor Aegon spent on planning his conquest over the Seven Kingdom. There were the Seven Dominate Kings, and then there were the lesser kings, Houses that want the titles as Kings. War, countless wars between two kingdoms or within the kingdom itself. Visenya told me long ago Aegon tried to bring back the Valyrian Empire. He started off by aiding the free cities of Pentos, Tyrosh, and Lys against Volantis during the Century of Blood. There was an opportunity, but he turned his interest to Westeros, since the majority of the Free Cities were Valyrian colonies of the coast. It was only when he commissioned the Painted Table, did he get the idea that there should be one realm, not seven kingdoms.

I walked over to the North staring at the map of Winterfell.

The outline looking oddly familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"When do you think Ser Barristan and Tyrion will arrive?" Daenerys asked.

"If Ser Barristan hasn't killed Tyrion just to get some peace and quiet, they'll be here in two days. We were blessed that Aggo was interested in learning the common tongue to translate for them with the Dothraki." I replied.

"Yes, still a bit rough, not like Rakharo," she said.

"May he ride forever in the night lands," I prayed.

Daenerys nodded with a sigh. So many people have died on our journey to get here. To reclaim our home. Mother was the first, next Ser Willem, Viserys, Drogo, Jhiqui, Rakharo Irri, Xaro, Doreah, Hizdahr…and countless soldiers died for us. Of course, some we killed for betraying us from the beginning, in the end, their main goal was our claimant to the Iron Throne. Everything that has happened has come to this. Once more, the desire for the Iron Throne does not linger in my veins. It was shoved onto me, as it was all Viserys talked about. Viserys sitting on the Iron Throne with me standing next to him, as we watched our enemies being executed. But that's not me. What I want is restore House Targaryen's name and honor.

The doors opened as Jorah entered the room.

"How did it go at the blacksmith?" I asked.

"It went well," he answered. "He lent me some temporary armor for now."

I nodded, seeing the light weighted armor.

And here we are, the three people who started our journey towards home.

This was my family.

A small loving chapter.

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