Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
A/N: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.
Chapter 74: Mending wounds
Alysanne's POV
I tried my best to keep the connection between Viserion and I. Forcing the pain that he endured onto my lower back so that he could concentrate during the flight. Yet, it was like ice lodged in my lower back. Throbbing now and then, either way, my mortal body can't handle it any longer during the half a day slight. I have to disconnect. I rubbed Viserion's shoulder, feeling guilty that I put him in harm's way.
The Night King aimed for Drogon…or at least that is what it looked like from the sky unless that spear was magical. If the spear struck Viserion in the vital regions while in a deep breath for fire, death would be inevitable. The encounter confirms my visions were real. Making it solid as stone and not ice.
We were in sight of the Wall when I disconnect from Viserion. He gave a groan of pain, which panged me for my familiar. At least it was his tail and not his chest or wings. Up ahead Drogon and Rhaegal flew to the other side of the Wall, while Viserion, who needed to land in order to get the weight off and proper balance, landed on the cursed side of the Wall. The landing was awkward, as he balanced and hopped on one foot since he was carrying for Jon Snow in his right talon. I held on tight due to the rough landing. Once on solid ground and at a complete stop, I petted Viserion's back one more time before getting off, and under to collect King Snow.
Viserion let go of the King in the North, finding the Northman unconscious. Limping over, I shook his shoulder, yet receive no response. Sighing, I smacked the young man, which worked as he woke up startled. I braced him, getting a good hold of his hand that held Longclaw.
"Easy now," I murmured.
"Where are we?" King Snow asked.
"On the cursed side of the Wall," I answered. "Viserion had to land so that we could disconnect." I then turned to my dragon. "Get to Dragonstone, rest; we will send a raven in an hour."
Viserion nodded as he nudged my shoulder before taking off back to Dragonstone.
"He can understand you?" King Snow asked.
"Yes," I answered. "He's intelligent, as long as the dragons are bonded, they are intelligent as any human…well most humans." I then turned to Jon. "What in Seven Hell were you thinking? You should have got on Drogon. That stunt you pulled could've cost you your life."
Jon sighed as he tried to stand up but failed as his leg gave way. Quickly I caught him as he put his weight onto me.
"I was trying to rescue you," he said. "Your dragon fell, and you crashed."
"Why must all men think that women are damsels," I muttered, then sighed. "I was perfectly fine. Viserion lost his bearings and recovered instantly."
King Snow only nodded.
I sighed when the sound of trotting caught out attention. Immediately we stood up straight drawing our swords. There a rider came forth with a horse. The rider got off and made his way over. His motion was more fluid to an actual human than a Wight. However, we don't know who side this individual belongs too. Was he a brother of the Night's Watch, a wilding, or what?
"When I last saw you, you were complaining of being better," the rider said. "Better at swords, than the others. Begging I take you on patrol."
King Snow paused and looked at the man, "Uncle Benjen."
The man lowered his hood and scarf that masked his face to reveal himself. He has sharp features and dark eyes and was very thin. But something was wrong, his face was grey, and cheeks blistered. He almost appeared to be dead. However, his eyes were not an icy blue.
"I don't understand," King Snow said. "We couldn't find you. Othro and Jafar Flower were found dead. I thought you died as well."
"I led a scouting party deep into the North to find white walkers," Benjen said. "They found us. A white walker stabbed me in the gut with a sword of ice. Left me there to die. To turn. The Children found me. Stopped the walker's magic from taking hold."
"How?" I asked.
"The same way they made the walkers in the first place. A shard of dragon glass plunged into my heart."
"Come with us," King Snow said to his uncle.
Benjen looked up at the Wall, "The Wall is not just ice and stone. Ancient spells were carved into its foundations. Strong magic to protect men from what lies beyond. And while it stands, the dead cannot pass." He then looked at us. "I cannot pass."
"So, was all this for not?" I asked.
"The Great War is coming, and I still fight for the living. They will try to pass the Wall upon finding Joramun's Horn. If the Night King gets his hand on it, then the Long Night begins." Benjen said as he placed a hand on King's Snow shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Jon, and I hope one day you get everyone together for the long night."
King Snow gave a small smile, "I promise."
"Well, you already got one ally who is pretty." Benjen jested.
King Snow flustered, "Uh, no, we're nothing like that. She is an ally."
Benjen nodded and looked at me, giving me a knowing look. Although I don't know what that knowledge is to be exact. But he knows something that King Snow and I don't know. Before I could ask him, he stared at his nephew.
"You better tend to your wounds," he said, giving a slight hug before returning to his horse.
"Where will you go?" King Snow asked.
"To the Fist of the First Men," Benjen answered as he got on. "The Three-Eyed Raven told me that is where it was last seen. I'll do what I can… as long as I can. I wish you both good fortunes."
He glances at us one more time, before riding back into the forest.
King Snow stepped forward but then fell groaning in pain. I rushed to his side, seeing blood staining his shoulder and leg. Knowing it was best to get him inside, I helped King Snow secure his sword, as I did with mine, and help him inside. It took a moment for the Men of the Night's Watch to open the gate, that allowed us through the dark tunnel. It was long, as King Snow put his weight over me, with an arm over the shoulder. He limped through until Ser Davos and a few of the Wildings rushed over collecting King Snow and helped us to the other side.
On the other side, I panted still feeling the ache on my lower back. No doubt the impact from the Night King spear left a mark on me. When the ballistic spear struck Drogon in the shoulder, Daenerys ended up with a bruise in the exact area. No doubt a bruise was forming where a tail would be if I were a dragon. Looking around, I saw Daenerys and Jorah rushing over to me. Instantly, Daenerys wrapped her arms around me in a hug, which caused us to fall over into the snow.
I groaned, feeling a shot of pain up my spine.
"Oh, sorry," Daenerys mumbled as she helped me up.
"Thanks," I said, getting back on my feet then face Jorah.
Many things have happened. He is probably not pleased with what happened at the Frozen Lake, how Viserion got hurt and the crashing into the mountains — coming here by impulse. However, if Daenerys and I did not arrive, then Jorah would have been one of the many wights. Unable to control myself, remembering the form of being mauled and the shade of blue in his eyes, I hugged him tightly. Jorah was surprised as he gave an oomph, before embracing me in return. Not a second later, our lips met. Both of us were close to the stranger, and yet we still survive.
When we pulled back, Jorah said, "It is time to go, Alysanne."
I turned around glancing at the Wall one last time, "Agreed, it is time to go."
Daenerys nodded as we made our way to the beach where the rowboats were waiting. There I saw the two wights being tied up and hooded. Joining us back was King Snow, Ser Davos, Gendry the blacksmith, and Sandor Clegane. Seeing the man who has been called the Hound. As much as this man is the brother who killed Rhaegar's family, I felt sorry for him when seeing the burn that scarred his face. Exhausted from many days of flying, we made do to the ship.
.o0o.
The men had taken King Snow to his quarters, while Daenerys and I took the main two quarters. Although we entered my chamber, as we stripped our winter gear and armor. I doubt Ser Barristan is pleased that I left Dragonstone with only my gambeson and breastplate. There was no time to be wearing full armor. In the end, there was damage as Daenerys took a look at my lower back.
"A bruise is forming," She said. "You need to take it easy. I'll see if there is some salve for later."
"I would appreciate it," I replied, as I corrected my clothes to cover myself.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"It's me," Jorah answered.
"Come in," I said.
Jorah entered the room, no longer in his winter coat and armor. He held a concerned look, indicating someone is severely injured than expected.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Jon Snow was badly injured than he let on," Jorah answered. "He needs stitching in his shoulder and leg; otherwise, he may bleed out or the wound to fester."
We were already on the ship and setting sail South. There was no time to go back to Eastwatch for the Maester to take a look.
"Alysanne, can't you stitch him?" Daenerys asked.
"I've never stitched human flesh before," I replied.
"But you did with fresh leather and animal skin." Daenerys reminded. "I'm sure you are capable of mending his flesh."
I sighed then looked at Jorah, "You better get him some strong wine or ale before I stitch him."
Jorah nodded as he went to do so. Daenerys and I left our cabin, as we headed to the ship's infirmary to collect the materials needed. Grabbing some needle, thread, salves, and linens. Once we gather what we needed, we enter King's Snow cabin. When we enter, we stopped, bewildered in was we saw. His upper body was free from clothing, as he lied there pale from the cold weather. All over his torso were five jagged scars that have not healed properly, leaving some with gashes. One that stood out was the one on his chest where his heart would be. Ser Davos wasn't being dramatic when he said Jon Snow took a knife in the heart.
"Your Grace," Ser Davos greeted, snapping me out of my daze.
I nodded in response and came over sitting on the edge of the bed to get a better look at the wound on his right shoulder. There was, indeed, a deep cut, a puncture wound in his right shoulder. I examined it and did a few tests that the blue graces did to me when I was injured. King Snow groaned, giving me an indication that the nerves were still intact. So, I began treating him, by cleaning out the wound and used some alcohol to disinfect it, before I started stitching up the wound. The King in the North stiffens, wincing now and then as I stitched up his right shoulder.
"I'm sorry," King Snow mumbled.
"I am not," I said. "We made it out alive and have the advantage."
"I'm so sorry," King Snow continued.
King Snow was about to say something then groaned when I did a stitch. Instantly Daenerys sat on the other side of the bed and took his hand.
"If we hadn't gone, I wouldn't have seen it," Daenerys said. "You have to see it to know. Now I know. We are going to destroy the Night King and his army. And we'll do it together. You have my word."
Daenerys was finally going to be part of the Great War. With her Khalasar we have more men joining the fight for the living. King Snow sighed in relief, as his eyes slightly water as he looked at her.
"Thank you, Dany." He whispered.
Daenerys gave a slight smile, "Dany?"
Realizing where this was going, I initially stitch a bit deep, sending a slight pain in King Snow's arm. He groaned again, which Daenerys gave me a look which I mutter a sorry. Until I know for sure of Jon Snow's parentage, I cannot risk these two to be infatuated. Yes, there is a chance I could be overthinking things of King Snow being my nephew. But until I get confirmation, I will not let the practice of incest occur again. The practice needs to die out for the safety of humanity.
Once done with his shoulder, I worked on his leg, thankful for the blanket covering his privates. Daenerys reached over touching my hand to help but stopped pulling it away.
"Your hands are cold," she said in Valyrian.
Pointing that out, I felt cold as well. I was so focused on tending King Snow I didn't realize how cold I was, and now that I mended him, shivers were rattling my bones. The coldest spot being where the bruise was on my lower back. Daenerys realized it was the aftermath of the connection from Viserion being injured.
"I can finish him up. You warm yourself up," She advised.
I nodded, not going to protest. Excusing myself, I stood up, wiping my hands on a rag, and left. Ser Davos went over to help Daenerys, while Jorah noticed how I was shivering. Even though the ship was warm, it still felt like it was cold outside. Carefully he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me inside to my cabin. He led me to the bed, helping me down. Jorah knew of the dragon magic since we told him. Being connected to Viserion any injury he received; I will get a mark on my body. However, this coldness …it's so unnatural.
Jorah pressed his hand on my forehead and frown, "I'll have one of the men get you a hot meal."
"I guess dragons don't do well in the cold," I mumbled.
He chuckled slightly though forced, "Apparently not."
"Is Bear Island this cold?" I asked.
He took my hands, rubbing them to get warm, "Only in the winter."
I only nodded, relaxing to his callous hands, warming my hands.
"You had a vision," he said.
"And what gave that away?" I asked.
"Your timing," he said. "I've had a feeling Gendry wouldn't make it in time to Eastwatch, then the raven flying over, and you girls arriving. How long did it take you to get here?"
"Three days," I answered, then yawned.
Jorah nodded, no doubt seeing the bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep. He got up and went to the door telling the men to bring some hot food. He then returns to the bed, sitting next to me. I rested my head on his shoulder and held his hand, ignoring the shivers in my body. Jorah was right here; he is still alive and not a Wight. That vision went over in my head countless times when flying towards Eastwatch. The haunting image of Jorah with those icy blue eyes, instead of his usual that was similar to the ocean.
I stared at his hands, seeing many nicks and cuts, "Are you injured?"
"I am fine," he assured.
I took his hand in which he winced slightly, "Liar."
He sighed as I stood up, grabbing the cannister of ointment for cuts and return to the bed. "Remove your shirt."
Jorah did not protest, knowing I have the command. He took off his leathers and furs and revealed the slight cuts on his arms. The furs, gambeson, and armor, he wore protected his vital organs, yet, through the many layers, some blades did, in fact, injure him. They were not deep, not able to scar. However, like all injuries, they must be treated. So, seeing the damage, I grabbed some linens, a bowl of water, and a fresh rag cleaning his wounds as I damped the cloth and washed the blood off his arms. Seeing all the scars from his years of war and the ones from his infection.
Jorah cradled my cheek, turning my attention to him as I stared into his blue eyes. I felt like I was drowning in those sea-blue eyes. The pull that was there since his return to Dragonstone. Unable to resist, I leaned in and kissed him. I did not mind the beard that scratched my skin. Jorah kissed back, though gentle and straightforward. Both of us were exhausted, not in the mood for intimacy.
After some time, one of the crew members brought some stew. We ate what we could, as I felt a bit warm inside, yet my body continues to be cold. When I finished, I removed my boots and outer layers before getting under the blankets and furs. Although, I dragged Jorah down to join me, not caring if it seems childish. My body aches and cold, and I can barely keep my eyes open. So, under the blankets and furs, sleep claims us.
.o0o.
It was still cold. No matter how many layers of blankets and furs, I always felt cold. My body still shuddering violently. Even curled up to Jorah who was immune to the cold, being born in the North. In my daze of waking up, Jorah secured his arms around me, rubbing my back.
"Your freezing," he murmured.
I nodded snuggling closer to his warmth. If I'm this cold, then Viserion must be freezing. In a few days, I wouldn't be surprised if he is in the volcano savoring the heat. Damn the Night King for hurting Viserion and the coldness of his weapon.
"Doubt we can light a fire," I muttered.
"Only on deck," Jorah said.
"How can you Northmen be fine in the cold?" I asked.
"We keep moving, staying active," he answered, as he continues to rub my back, though his hands went lower pressing on the bruise that I hissed. He stopped, "Are you injured?"
"A bruise on my lower back," I told him.
Jorah nodded as he continues rubbing my back, though focusing on the upper back. My arm wrapped around him, returning the same gesture. The shudders remain, though they decrease slightly but not enough.
"So... how do the Northmen stay warm at night," I asked.
A small smirk lifted his lip. He adjusted us, so he was on top of me, "Do you trust me?"
"Always," I murmured.
Jorah smiled softly as he kissed me while his wandering hands removed the remaining of my outer clothes, leaving me in nothing but my chemise. He pulled away, kissing along the jawline before gently biting my earlobe. I moaned as he went down kissing his way down my neck. Warmth slowly starting to build up inside me. Let alone; his hand trailed down my body to the delta between my thighs. He slid his fingers through my fold, already warm and dewy.
"Jorah," I whimpered, being three weeks maybe a month since our last encounter.
Jorah didn't hold back as he slid his fingers into my slick channel. I arched my back, thrusting my breasts high, he leaned forward to ravish my cleavage, unlacing the front to take a nipple in his mouth. I moaned as he stroked me, his thumb caressing my clit. He sucked on my breast, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth. As this was happening, I could feel a bulge between his legs. He groaned as he quickens his movement, toying with me as I withered, feeling the sensation building up and coil in my stomach. Jorah kissed me, catching my breath as I came while my muscles tighten around his fingers. The coldness was leaving my veins.
I panted seeing Jorah with a satisfactory look. Immediately, I worked on his trousers, forcing them off, as his penis came out already erect. He was not wasting any more time. Jorah did not hesitate, taking his member and rubbed it against my core, teasing me. I growled, not in a mood for teasing. He merely smirked before entering me in one smooth, slick motion. My eyes widen to the sensation, the feel of him stretching me. He moved his hips against mine, blue eyes on mine as he touched the deepest parts within.
I closed my eyes, as he rocked his hips, thrusting against me with increasing force. The tensioned coiled inside me that I writhed beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Opening my eyes, seeing Jorah eyes closed as he was savoring the feeling my body was giving him. Leaning up, I kissed his neck while my hands caressed his back, feeling all of him since he slept without his shirt. Not long after, he changed the angle, taking my leg higher up onto his waist, going deeper. A sharp gasp escapes my lips. Only to cry out as Jorah moved a hand between us teasing my clit. Unable to hold on, I came undone once more.
Jorah continues thrusting, forcing himself as my walls tighten around his member riding out my orgasm. His member growing and twitching, until he reached his own pinnacle and came, his seeds buried deep inside. He lowered himself to the bed, sweeping me into his arm. I nestled against his body. My fingers traced over his chest, panting out of breath. No longer shuddering or cold.
"So that is how the Northmen stay warm," I panted.
"Walking, fighting, and fucking, as the wildings put it," Jorah panted as well, before adjusting the blanket and furs over us, before taking a discarded linen to clean ourselves up.
We curled up against each other, as I rest my hand on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. My fingers were tracing along his skin. My body was relaxing, reminding me he was still alive. I've prevented the vision from coming true. Let alone there are two wights in a cell, as the men search for a creative to put them in. Seeing the Army of the Dead and the Night King, brought back reality in how important the Great War was.
"This is only the beginning," I whispered.
"Aye," Jorah said, rubbing my arm. "But we have the upper hand."
The question is…for how long?
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