Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 77: Ice and Fire
Alysanne's POV
When Viserion flew around King's Landing and towards the Dragonpits, I saw my home for the first time in nearly twenty-one years. Seeing the Red Keep from the horizon of the Blackwater Bay. There was a slightly foul scent. Despite the fact that my memories were gone, there was familiarity. For I knew I would stare out of the windows from Maegor's Holdfast and other towers in the Red Keep to stare at the city's landscape. However, something felt off, a sense of this no longer being my home. Even with the red from the Keep and roofs of the city's rooftops. It doesn't feel like home. Not when the people from my childhood were gone.
Only two people who were part of early childhood were divided as Ser Barristan stood behind me while the man who served my father, Ser Jaime Lannister, sat beside his sister. The man who killed my father. I had mixed emotions upon seeing Ser Jaime. Tyrion mentioned his brother killed my father because King Aerys II madness became extreme to the point that he decided to set the city aflame in wildfire. So, breaking his vows to save a half-a-million people is one thing. But to serve the women who killed her husband, and the downfall of her children. Let alone the rumors of Ser Jaime fucking his sister.
When I saw Cersei Lannister, I felt an uncomfortable presence from her — seeing her sitting there with a scornful smile. At first, I took pleasure in her terrified state when seeing the Wight. Afraid of the possible death of becoming a Wight. However, the way she spoke, especially when making a truce to fight against the Army of the Dead, I got a sense of deception. The same deception from the Yunkish and the three Slaver Masters. She won't keep her word. She'll act reasonable, but she won't honor the truce.
After the armistice, we did exchange the prisoners. The War Generals for Tyene Sand. Although, when I told them about Yara. The Unchained Maester name Qyburn negotiated these terms explaining that Yara Greyjoy was Euron Greyjoy's prisoner. Theon was displeased, but I assured him we would find another way of getting his sister. Right now, it is not the time. Once we were on the ships or at Dragonstone, I'll help him arrange a rescue team.
So, upon returning to the ship, on the Meraxes, I summoned for my true council. The people who've been with me since my campaign in Slaver's Bay, Daenerys, Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan, Missandei, and Grey Worm in my cabin. Due to the previous relationship Tyrion and Varys had with Cersei, I excluded them while King Snow I felt was a bit naïve to realize the situation.
"I think we can agree that we can't trust the Lannisters," I finally spoke.
"Are you sure, Your Grace?" Missandei asked.
I nodded, "Cersei Lannister spoke in the same manner as the Yunkish. She was lying through her smile."
"The same tone I've heard in a long time," Ser Barristan agreed.
"What do you command, my Queen," Grey Worm asked.
I sighed, crossing my arms and leaned against a table, "Right now, we need to focus on the Great War. If the union between Lord Willas and Lady Elain works out, we will have the Reach and partial of the Stormlands forces heading north."
"What about Dorne?" Daenerys asked.
"I'm afraid they won't make it in time," I answered in defeat.
It takes a month from King's Landing to Winterfell on the Kingsroad. It would be probably two months by the masses of an army to reach Winterfell in time. As long as the Night King doesn't find that magical horn.
"The number of their forces will take two months since they will have to go around the Crownlands," Jorah explained.
"It might be best to keep Dorne out of the fold in the Great War and reserve them for the siege when the time comes," Ser Barristan added.
"If the time comes," Daenerys said.
I sighed, knowing that the number of the Army of the Dead forces is vastly unknown. The North roughly has ten maybe fifteen thousand men. Daenerys has a hundred thousand Dothraki Screamers. I have eight thousand Unsullied and two maybe three thousand uncut, volunteer soldiers. Followed by two war elephants and three dragons. Along with the Redwyne Fleet, Velaryons, and Celtigar have offered their fleet to help evacuate the refugees since they were sailors, not infantrymen. So, having the Reach, and Lord Willas' marriage can give us the advantage we need in winning this war.
Unless I'm mistaken, and Cersei honors her word and sends the Lannister army and the Crown's Army to head North. Which I highly doubted. It's hard to trust a Lannister unless they are the outcast in their Pride. My father trusted Tywin Lannister during Robert's Rebellion. That trust lead to the sacking of King's Landing, the death of a king, and the slaughter of Rhaegar's family. I cannot forgive the Lannisters for the murder of Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon. When I saw Ser Gregor standing there, I imagined saying Dracarys and Viserion burning the Mountain until he was nothing but ash. Ser Gregor Clegane will be punished for what he did to them. I will avenge them just as the Red Viper tried to. Only I won't be cocky as Prince Oberyn.
We continue the discussion on battle tactics. Already Lord Tarly is heading back to the Reach to collect his forces. Although, we are keeping his son Dickon as our humble guest to make sure the Lord keeps his word. Yes, it's considering him as a hostage but honoring one's word is rare. Once we were done with our discussion, everyone but Jorah left the room. I sighed, rubbing my eyes then pinched the bridge of my nose to alleviate a possible headache.
"You have done well," Jorah complimented.
"Have I?" I asked.
"Better than most," he answered.
"I had King's Landing right there; most would say I was a fool in not taking it," I said, then sighed. "But even if I've attacked King's Landing, there would have been more deaths and battles from the Lords who sides with the Lannisters."
"It was a tough decision, but you chose for the realm," he said as he came over and took my hand. "Wise as Nymeria."
"Another warrior Queen whose blood lingers in my veins," I chuckled slightly.
Jorah nodded. I've tried not to be arrogant to think of the number of warriors I've been descended from. From Aegon the Conqueror and his descendants, along with spouses who joined our family later on. Especially from House Martell.
"I wish we had more time," I confessed. "Visenya said the Army of the Dead shall march South when I'm already here. I thought I would be Queen of Westeros by then."
"As did I," he agreed. "As did I."
I walked over to him and rested my head on his chest. Instantly Jorah wrapped his arms around me, offering his comfort. I haven't felt this much stress about my decisions since the Campaign in Slavers Bay. After staring at the children were hung on the mileposts.
"You have a gentle heart, but you are strong, Alysanne." He murmured as he rubbed my back.
"Why are you so good with your words," I muttered.
He chuckled as he continued to rub my back.
.o0o.
It has been a few days since the armistice. Currently, everyone has gathered in arranging the battle plans for the North. If we can keep the Army of the Dead in one Kingdom, then there is a chance of maintaining them, keeping them away from vastly populated areas. Jorah informed me the majority of the Northmen population is around a million people. A small population scarcely spaced out — the same population as King's Landing. However, the kingdoms like the Riverlands and the Reach are highly at risk.
Both Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah stood beside one another over an updated map of Westeros. Both of them wearing their new armors that the Blacksmith of Qohor had forged. Both being in dark grey, not black like mine. Ser Barristan's holds resemblance to the armor that my father's Kingsguard wore, as the dragon emblem on the breastplate while the three wheat stocks on his pauldron. Ser Jorah was a combination of his original armor when he first joined my company and details of his second. Only this time, it was stronger, more durable than his previous armor in the fighting pits. I was pleased, knowing my two loyal knights will be secure when the battle transpires.
Anyway, we all huddled around the painted table, making the final arrangements for transport.
"If we have the Dothraki ride hard on the kingsroad, they'll arrive at Winterfell within a fortnight," King Snow suggested as he traced the carving trail.
"And the Unsullied?" I asked.
"We can sail with them to White Harbor, meet the Dothraki here on the Kingsroad, then ride together to Winterfell," King Snow suggested.
"Perhaps you should fly to Winterfell, Your Grace," Ser Jorah advised. "You have many enemies in the North. Thousands fell fighting your father. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow. He'll see your white hair on the kingsroad and know that one well-placed bolt will make him a hero. The man who killed the conqueror."
"I agreed with Ser Jorah," Ser Barristan added. "Although you and Princess Daenerys have done no wrong, you still live under your father's shadow."
I sighed, looking at the map. The mental disease that has plagued my family since Maegor the Cruel. A Targaryen can be born with madness or is driven into it. My father was driven mad. The weight of the kingdom put on his shoulder at such a young age, along with the responsibilities of producing more heirs. Let alone the number of enemies that were against him since the tragedy of Summerhall. Aerys felt alone, despite having the support of family, men conspired against him. Thus, the paranoia and disappointment drove him bloody mad.
"It's your decision, Your Grace," King Snow said. "But if we're going to be allies in this war, it's important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbor together, I think it sends a better message."
All eyes were on me.
"We've not come to conquer the North," Daenerys said. "We're coming to save the North."
I nodded, giving an apologetic look to my loyal knights. Jon Snow has made an excellent point. As much as my ancestor Aegon came to Westeros on Balerion, he did it as a means of intimidation. I don't want to intimidate the Northerners. It has been known since King Snow sent a letter to his half-sister of the truce between House Targaryen and the North. That the North shall be an independent kingdom during my reign and my descendants as well, there has been no response yet, but the King in the North explained there would be a lot of convincing to assure Lady Stark towards peace.
"We sail together," I said. "Although I want everyone to be wearing their armors and guards surrounding us."
Because I don't trust Cersei, for there is a chance she has a spy waiting to kill us.
Once the travel arrangements were settled, I spoke with Theon, letting him know I'll be lending him three ships and a crew to rescue his sister and help in reclaiming the Iron Islands. Varys confirmed that Euron did leave a proper defense on the Iron Islands, and Aeron Greyjoy is maintaining the small kingdom. If we lose in the Great War, we need to be sure we can save the population of humanity, either it is the islands that surround Westeros or evacuating to Essos. My reign still remains in the Bay of Dragons, since I have not yet received a confirmation of a secured council.
Afterward, the meeting was dismissed, and we all prepared for the journey North.
Although I stopped to check on Lady Olenna, she will be staying at Dragonstone. With a hefty bounty on her head by Cersei Lannister and Euron's fleet sailing in the Blackwater Bay. The Queen of Thorns is no longer safe except here at Dragonstone. I'll have a small portion of my Army here guarding Dragonstone to protect the castle and prepare the armies for a possible battle.
Lady Olenna was in Aegon's Garden, sitting on a dark marble bench behind a deviant statue of a dragon. A few of her little girls sat around her, still uncomfortable with the mysterious beauty that the garden provided. They looked up and were surprised to see me. Then again, I haven't socialized with the young maidens who were accompanying Lady Olenna. Been focused on my primary and talked to Lady Olenna.
"Look little doves, a dragon is in the garden," The Queen of Thorns said to her ladies.
"May I have a word with you in private?" I asked.
Lady Olenna nodded, "Run along now."
The three ladies nodded as they stood up, giving a curtsy before departing.
"I see you are still alive," she murmured. "I thought Cersei would lodge an arrow in you."
"I'd had a similar thought," I said, then gestured to the bench. "May I?"
"Yes," she said.
I sat down while Ser Barristan stood to keep guard.
"How are you fairing?" I asked.
"I'm doing well, despite my location. Then again, it's far better than King's Landing," she answered.
I tried not to chuckle at the comment.
"Although I'm disappointed that I'll be missing my grandson's wedding. He should be getting married any day now. Urgent to get the union done with so we can have the Several Stormlanders support."
"I apologize, but your safety is vital."
"So, I've been told. Now, tell me how your meeting with Cersei was."
"She is a bitter woman," I answered.
"I wonder if she is the worst person I've ever met. At a certain age, it's hard to recall. But the truly vile do stand out through the years. I remember the way she smirked at me when my grandson and granddaughter were dragged off to their cells. I'll never forget it. It's because of her my son and two youngest grandchildren are dead. All because she wanted to keep her sons all to herself and not marry Loras. When the dog she fed in those fanatical sparrows bit back, she blamed everyone and blown them up. Never underestimate her."
"She says she'll send her armies north to help us against the Army of the Dead," I said.
"And do you believe her?" She asked.
"No," I answered.
"Good. You are not stupid then. Maybe naïve, but I blame that on your age, thus not stupid." She said then took a serious breath. "If you haven't shown me that beast, I would have thought you were mad as well. All I want is my two grandsons to thrive and their children to live on. I've seen things in Westeros. From your great-grandfather's reign to your fathers. Many wars, but never a war like this."
I nodded.
"If we survive this cold war, remember that Cersei will be waiting. She'll expect you to strike right away. But if I were you, I'd make her wait. She is impatient."
I nodded again, taking the Queen of Thorns advice to heart. She has lived through the years and seen many Kings rule, countless wars, and almost married my grand-uncle. In the end, she is an excellent advisor. If only I could secure her safe passage to Highgarden without the fear of Cersei's wrath. If not praying, she lives a long life to see her great-grandchildren, relieving any worries that House Tyrell through her bloodline remains.
Lady Olenna took my hand and gave it a squeeze, "Your great-grandfather and grandfather would've been proud of you."
I smiled slightly, for it is an honor when people mention good men in my heritage. Especially for King Aegon V, who married for love and tried hard to forge peace with the Seven Kingdoms.
.o0o.
Winterfell
Samwell arrived at Winterfell with Gilly and Little Sam. It was a difficult decision to leave the citadel, but he knew the Maesters would not provide service towards the cause. They were more about preserving history and writing their own interpretation of events instead of the actual truth. It was a long journey, longer than expected, since Gilly ended up being pregnant and the safety for Little Sam.
In the end, they ended up in Winterfell. The sun had already set when they arrived. Samwell wearing his Brotherhood of the Night's Watch garment, was given easy access, and his horse and wagon secured. First, he made sure his family was comfortable in a room, before entering the Great Keep, asking around if any of the Stark Siblings were available since he got word Jon was still on Dragonstone. Sansa and Arya were occupied, but a soldier was sent to collect Samwell. The Tarly was surprised, as he was escorted into a room where a massive fireplace was lit. In front of the fireplace was none other than Bran. Samwell was baffled and relieved that Bran was alright. Afraid wildings or wights had gotten to the crippled boy.
"Samwell Tarly," Bran greeted casually.
"I wasn't sure if you'd remember me," Samwell said.
"I remember everything," Bran said as a matter of fact.
Samwell didn't know how to respond to that, only gave a smile. He entered the room and closed the door before walking over and taking a seat next to Bran.
"You helped us get beyond the Wall. You're a good man." Bran complimented.
"Oh, well, thank you, but, um, I'm not sure that I am," Samwell replied.
Bran stared at the fire.
"What happened to you beyond the Wall?" Samwell asked.
Bran turned his attention to Samwell, "I became the Three-Eyed Raven."
"Oh!" Samwell said, impressed. "I don't know what that means."
"I can see things that happened in the past. I can see things happening now all over the world. Why did you come to Winterfell?"
"Um . . . Jon's the one to lead the fight against the dead. I know he is. But he can't do it alone, so I've come here to help him."
"He's on his way back to Winterfell with the Dragon Sisters," Bran informed.
"You - You saw this in— in a vision?" Samwell asked.
Only Bran lifted up a raven scroll.
"Oh," Samwell said, slightly embarrassed.
Bran turned his attention to the fire, "He needs to know the truth."
"The truth about what?" Samwell asked.
"About himself," Bran answered. "No one knows — no one but me. Jon isn't really my father's son. He's the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and my aunt, Lyanna Stark. He was born in a tower in Dorne. His last name isn't really Snow, it's Sand."
Samwell grasped the information that Bran just said then remember a conversation with Gilly back in Oldtown. He remembers Gilly reading a journal of High Septon Maynard about a divorce. At first, he couldn't make out the names, since Gilly was still teaching us to pronounce Valyrian and Essosian names. But now, Bran mentioning this, Rhager was actually Rhaegar. Rhaegar has asked for an annulment and to be married as soon as possible. In other words, Jon has never been a bastard.
"It's not," Samwell said happily.
Bran was confused, "Dornish bastards are named Sand."
"At the Citadel, my…Gilly transcribed a High Septon's diary. He annulled Rhaegar's marriage to Elia. He wed Rhaegar and Lyanna in a secret ceremony." Samwell explained.
"Are you certain?" Bran asked.
"It's what the High Septon wrote in his private diary. I don't know why he'd lie." Samwell said. "A diary is probably the truest thing in a person's perspective. Is this something you can see?"
Bran paused while still having control of his true self, he warged into the past. He found himself in Dorne, seeing his aunt Lyanna at age sixteen with Rhaegar being twenty-three at the time, making their sacred vows to the Seven. It did not appear forced, nor was his aunt standing there in tears. No, they seemed to be excited about getting married.
"Robert's Rebellion was built on a lie," Bran said, while still observing the wedding.
Observing the moment, Rhaegar secured the marriage by a kiss.
"Rhaegar didn't kidnap my aunt or rape her. He loved her. And she loved him. And Jon . . ."
Bran went to the moment after Jon's birth. When Ned Stark entered the room, to comfort his dying sister. As she laid there in a bed of blood. Both siblings held each other's hand, while Ned combed his free hand through his sister's hair.
"Jon's real name . . ."
Lyanna tried to lean up, which Ned knelt down more to hear his sister speak.
"His name is Aenar Targaryen. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned."
"He's never been a bastard. He's the heir to the Iron Throne. He needs to know. We need to tell him. A son of ice and fire."
.o0o.
The Balerion Ship.
In a private room, dinner was being served for the Targaryen Sisters, Jon, and Ser Jorah. At first, the dinner was peaceful. The occasional conversation about their adventures. A moment to forget they were rulers and relax before the upcoming war. Jon was surprised at how different the sisters were when not their formal selves. Although wine was passed around, except Alysanne did not drink. Mainly it was Daenerys who did most of the talking while Alysanne joined the conversation to correct Daenerys or add her side of the story. Jorah would join in, but not as vocally as the Khaleesi.
Jon saw another side. They did not appear divined, despite their appearance. They actually seemed to be normal, practically human. The atmosphere felt welcoming, almost as he felt with his siblings. It was welcoming, even though there was some formality with the Dragon Queen. As time went on, it was soon getting late.
Alysanne stood up, which Jorah immediately followed, "Well, I had enough socializing for the evening."
"You hardly touched your drink," Daenerys protested.
"I don't drink, remember," Alysanne reminded. "Anyway, it's best we get some rest. We probably won't be getting any once we reach White Harbor."
Jon nodded while Daenerys sighed.
"Goodnight, your grace," Alysanne said to Jon before leaving the cabin.
Jorah gave a slight nod before following after his Queen. Thus, leaving Daenerys and Jon alone in the chamber. Daenerys sighed as she poured a glass for her and Jon.
"Is she alright?" Jon asked.
"She's fine, ever since the poisoning she hardly drinks. Not that I could blame her since she died. A terrible experience for everyone."
Jon nodded, knowing that experience as well. Although being stabbed by your own men is entirely different than being poisoned. One was revenged, and the other was fear. All Jon saw when he died was nothing. Only darkness. As if he had an empty dream, only to wake with a sharp gasp that burned his lungs.
He turned his attention to Daenerys, remembering the conversation he had with Daenerys in the Dragonpits. On the outside, Daenerys looked intimidating with her dragons and the Dothraki, but on the inside, she was only human. She realized her mistakes after seeing the Army of the Dead. During their travels, Daenerys told him what life was like living in exile. And Jon had thought he had a hard life being called a bastard and scornful behaviors from Lady Caitlyn. Daenerys looked at him with a slight smile. She found him attractive, no doubt about it. She also liked, his sense of honor and duty. A man who was nothing, only to become something much better.
Either it was there, or the sense of longing, the two leaned forwards to kiss. The kiss started off soft and gentle. An innocent peck. When they pulled back, Daenerys paused to see if there was interest. Seeing a slight twinkle in his eyes and leaned over to kiss him again. It started slowly only to grew passionate. By the time air was needed, Jon had pulled back to breathe. Tempting as it was, he still felt regret in what happened to Ygritte or the promise to never sleep with a woman he was not married to — not wanting to risk siring a bastard out of wedlock. Let alone not wanting to start a war with the Queen.
Daenerys realized this, Jon wasn't Drogo or Daario. He wasn't straight forward. So, she smiled and took his hand.
"We should probably get some rest," Daenerys said, as she stood up.
Jon nodded, "Yes. Goodnight, Daenerys."
Daenerys nodded as she patted Jon on the shoulder and left. She was leaving the room with a smile on her face. Maybe there can be something in this possible relationship — a way to unite the North with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.
As she left the cabin, she noticed Tyrion standing in the hall looking down the corridor behind some stairs. She quietly stood behind him, seeing what Tyrion was spying on. There down the hall, was Alysanne's cabin. Jorah was standing there in front of an open door. They were speaking in Dothraki, though too softly they could not be overheard. Alysanne appearing stressed and tired, as she took Jorah's hand leading him inside.
"You should let them be," Daenerys whispered when the door closed.
Tyrion jumped, startled, not expecting Daenerys standing there. "Your Highness."
"Let them be," she told the dwarf. "He makes her happy."
"I don't think he is worthy of her," he whispered.
"No one is worthy of her," she sighed. "But he is the only one who understands her. Makes her happy."
Ever since Alysanne was a teen, she never was happy. She remembers moments there were smiles that Alysanne gave her sister to make Daenerys happy. But Viserys never made Alysanne genuinely smile. It was always forced, however, back in the Western Market at Vas Dothrak.
"Let them be," Daenerys quietly ordered.
Tyrion was open his mouth to speak.
"Go," Daenerys said, giving him a warning look.
Tyrion closed his mouth, only to nod departing for his cabin. Daenerys sighed, looking at the cabin door with a smile. Despite their hardships, the two love each other. Daenerys will always make sure her older sister was happy.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
I asked Jorah to stay in my cabin. After all that has happened in the last few months, I don't want to sleep alone. There was a sense of security when Jorah spends the night. Just feeling his arms around me. You might as well call me hopeless.
Anyway, I removed the black coat and set it on a chair. Missandei was given a few days off to spend time with Grey Worm. She deserves time to be with him, after several months apart when he'd sailed to Casterly Rock and the siege of the Twins, thus freeing Lord Edmure Tully. It's the least I can do. Might as well give her the entire journey. I can manage by myself.
When I turned around, I saw Jorah taking a seat. He started to remove his armor. Deciding to help him, I came over and started working on the straps and links. Ser Barristan and Grey Worm had shown me how armor is assembled and the method of removing each piece. I was surprised by how massive his was compared to mine. Almost to that of jousting armor. Yet, the armor was not jousting armor. Yes, mine has a bit of weight. Maybe the blacksmith used a different technique.
Jorah sighed, left in his gambeson, trousers, and boots.
I smiled softly, cradling his face. He looked up, leaning into my touch. The feeling of a strong pull linked us again. Ever since the Veil, the pull became stronger than ever before. Not a second longer, I was straddling Jorah's lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close for a kiss. I kissed back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Jorah deepened the kiss; he hugged me at the hips, chest, and thighs. During the kiss, his erection nudged into my crotch. He kissed my jaw, neck, and tugged at the fabrics of the tunic.
A moan escaped my lips, entwining my fingers through his hair, slipping my tongue into his mon, tasting the wine he had drank. When I pulled back, I stared into his blue eyes, "I want you."
Jorah all but nodded as he leaned over, kissing my neck, then lashing his tongue over my skin that would send shivers up the spine. A moment later, he stood up and I wrapped my legs around his hips. A few steps over, he settled me on the bed. We pulled back, each of us removing our clothes and boots before lying on the bed naked. Currently, he leaned over me, kissing down to my chest, teasing my breast for a moment before reaching my crotch. Basically, maneuvering my leg to hook over his shoulder as he kissed the sweet spot between my legs and lashed his tongue along the tender fold. Different reactions were escaping my lips as he suckled on the clit and inserted his fingers, pleasuring me, and preparing me for what is to come. So many moans and gasps that had my toes curled and hands were grabbing the bedding and Jorah's hair. My hips were rising, moving along with his moth, which he had to pin me down until I came over the edge.
I panted, opening my eyes, seeing Jorah looming over me, licking his lips. Sitting up, I adjusted him to lay on his back and began kissing his body, caressing along the scars, going down lower only to grasp his member, and cupped his balls. Jorah groaned, not expecting it, as I pumped the hardening staff, making love to it with my hand. I was about to lean over to take him in my mouth, except Jorah groaned in protest, begging to be inside me.
It wasn't long before I straddled his waist, and with a bend of my hand, directed his member inside me. He pumped slowly, eyes closed, and our mouths were touching then not. It was slow, more about feeling each other than fucking. His hands were sliding around my back, tracing my spine until securing around my waist. He thrust up, deep and hard while I rolled my hips back and forth. My chest pressed against him. Lips locked in a passionate kiss. Suddenly, Jorah sat up, embracing me closer, grasping my buttocks, and added additional force. I gasped from the change of angle, securing my legs moving to meet his pace.
It was becoming too much; his skills overwhelming that is was hard to keep up. Jorah, recognizing it, rolled us around so he was on top. We panted, still joined yet paused to stare at each other. I reached up to cradle his cheek, feeling the whiskers of his beard and the warm flesh. He took hold of my hand gingerly, leaning in and kissed my wrist. Our lips soon joined, which Jorah thrust again, and I took everything that he gave.
No matter what, we were together. A bear from the land of ice and a dragon from the sky of fire.
Hey guys, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Some of you may ask why the name change on Jon's name. It was a thought that came by. How did Lyanna know about Elia and her children being dead while she was in the Tower of Joy? What are the chances of Elia's son Aegon was still alive, and suddenly Aegon discovers he has a half-brother who is name Aegon as well? Well, that was conflicting. So, I change Jon's Targaryen name to Aenar. To those who are wondering, Aenar was a Dragonlord who left Valyria because he believes in his daughter's visions of the doom. He is the one who built Dragonstone. Basically, he saved a lot of lives, and I felt there was some connection between them.