Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Warning this chapter is rated M for sexual content.
Chapter 91: A Winter Wedding.
Alysanne's POV
Two weeks have gone by before I even know it. I felt nervous as I woke in my room, staring at the ceiling. Seeing all the details of the woodgrain. The slight cracks of plasters, and the dust particles swirling in the air blown in from the small cracks in the window.
I've never felt this nervous before. Like a swirling of butterflies in my stomach. I executed a man for murder. I fought in a raid at the Daznak Pit. I fought in an invasion against the Masters. I fought against the Lannister Army on the Golden Road. I fought against an Ice Dragon. So why am I getting all nervous over a wedding? It wasn't like my first wedding, although I vomited until the Lady of the House brought tea to ease my stomach. Only I wasn't out of disgust. Now, I was getting married to the man I love.
My cheeks blush, thinking about last night. After dinner, Jorah escorted me back to my chambers and gave me a kiss. He was absent from my bed though I wanted so much to spend the night with him. Instead, Jorah kissed me passionately hands teasing my thighs close to my privates then pulled away. And I thought abstinence for the years separated was frustrating. But Jorah wanted to wait till we consummate our marriage.
Now it was morning, and I have to wait until night.
Alysanne Jaehaera Mormont-Targaryen?
If my parents could see it now. Then again, Father would have said no to it. In fact, my father probably would have ordered an execution for Jorah's head the moment he kissed me. If my family was still alive, I would probably be still married to Viserys or a Lord he deemed suitable. Mother, on the other hand, would approve seeing how much she loved her knight. Rhaegar…he had intended to marry me to Quentyn or Willas or Garlan Tyrell. For once, I am in control. Yes, this marriage was pushed by the Northern Lords, but at least I chose the consort.
I rolled over onto my side, hugging the pillow. After tonight, Jorah will be forever sleeping in my bed. The thought made me smile. Since the only time he will not be in my bed is when I'm giving birth and recovering. The idea of a child made the smile into a grin. Like the boy I once dreamed long ago returned. Unfortunately, I took the Lys Elixir. Once the war is over, I will stop taking it and let the gods decide when I shall have a child. I place a hand over my stomach since the itch for a child is still here.
There was a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I called out.
"It's me," Daenerys replied.
"Come in," I said.
Daenerys came in still in her evening clothes. She climbed into bed staring at me with a smile.
"How does the bride feel?" she asked.
"Nervous," I answered.
"Well, hopefully, this will be your last marriage," she assured, wrapping an arm around me. "You deserve a happy marriage."
I nodded, giving her a peck on the cheek. She sighed.
"Hopefully, I can find someone," she confessed.
I cradled her cheek, feeling guilty. She had strong feelings for Jon, only it cannot be. Not when I gave a sacred vow to end the practice of incest. If only Jon was our cousin, then I would have allowed it. But it can't be.
"There is always Daario," I suggested.
Daenerys giggled for the first time in a long time.
"If not him, there is Quentyn Martell," I offered. "He's what, three years older? And I heard stories about the Dornish men."
I wiggled my eyebrows.
Daenerys laughed from that, "Maybe. Right now, I'm going to focus on our home. I'm not sure if I'm going back to the Dothraki Sea so my Bloodriders can return home."
I nodded again.
"But first, I must give my sister away," she added. "And hopefully be an aunt in two years."
"Dany," I laughed.
We spent the morning talking when Missandei arrived with a tray of breakfast. All three of us socialize while time went on. I'm basically on house arrest, not allowed to leave my chamber until the wedding. Since there is a tradition, a bride should not see the groom. With a northern wedding being simple, there is no luxury, such as a grand feast, reception, flowers, or dancing. After the Long Night, we need to not waste the North's resources. So here I was, spending time in my room until darkness.
By the time we finished eating, a copper tub was brought in as the maids went back and forth, delivering hot water. A tradition for a bride to be cleansed for a restart on life. Missandei did my hair, washing it while Daenerys sat by watching. We continued to socialize, talking about anything.
"Alysanne, has Grey Worm talked to you yet?" Missandei asked.
"No, is something the matter?" I replied.
"Nothing, just something personal," she said.
I turned around facing her, taking her hand, "Missandei, you have been a dear friend to me. Don't be afraid to ask me anything."
Missandei smiled softly, "I can't say since it is Grey Worm's question."
"Well, he has been my most loyal officer. Whatever he has to ask, I am open to it."
Missandei nodded with a smile, "Thank you."
Once I was cleaned, I got out of the bath, putting my hair in a towel to dry off. Along with a heavy robe to stay warm while sitting by the fireplace. Missandei handed me some lotion and I applied it to my skin. So many thoughts linger in my head. When I put on some clothes, the servants came in to collect the water and tub. I have to admit, I do miss the bathing chambers in Dragonstone. A place dedicated to bathing. Not having to wait for the servants to fetch a bath. Then again, I'm used to rooms devoted to a bath. Well, except during the Dothraki period.
As time went on, I started to feel my nerves intensifying. I know Jorah will be there, yet the butterflies keep swirling around in my stomach. It came to a point where I was pacing about. Missandei and Daenerys found it amusing.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous," Daenerys teased.
"I can't help it," I muttered.
"At least you are marrying someone you love and not some stranger," Daenerys said. "Not many women have that opportunity."
"And I'm sure Ser Jorah will be," Missandei assured. "He's too honorable to leave now."
I took a deep breath, "I wish the wedding could be now and not at night."
"Well, they want to rush into the consummation," Daenerys said.
I groaned.
Missandei and Daenerys laughed at my impatience.
Time went on as my hair dried. Missandei worked on my hair, having half of it down while the rest was up using the Targaryen pin to keep it up. Next, I put on the undergarments, along with a pair of leggings to keep warm. Follow by the dress, the white dress with gold trim and embroidery of dragons on the skirt. The only jewelry I wore was my mother's pearl pendant. I could wear more like a Queen, but it wasn't me. Daenerys did a small amount of makeup, adding a berry balm onto my lips and nothing else.
.o0o.
"I've come to escort you to the Godswood, my Queen," Grey Worm said. "If you please, your grace, will you take my arm."
I smiled softly to Grey Worm in the gesture. It was decided that Grey Worm will escort me down the aisle, yet Daenerys will lead us to the Godswood to give me away. Missandei placed a black silk cloak over my shoulders as it was part of the tradition. I took Grey Worm's arm.
Daenerys smiled, wearing her black attire with red accessory, while holding a lantern leading the way to the Godwoods. No words were said, as we reached the courtyard where the people of Winterfell, the Unsullied and Dothraki stood by watching the union. I felt nervous. Although I shouldn't be, the excitement and nerves rolled into one.
We entered the Godswood. For the first time since walking through here no longer did I feel unwelcome. I felt a presence of respect. As if the Old Gods were welcoming me for this union to one of their children. There was a trail of torches leading the way to the weirwood tree. We followed the path. My heart was beating rapidly, nervous, and anticipating what is to come.
By the time we reach there, relief took hold. The Lords and Ladies were there, some holding a lantern to lighten the ceremony. The Starks were there along with Lady Mormont, as each took a side of the Heart Tree. Amongst the crowd was also Ser Jaime, Ser Brienne, Ser Gareth, Lord Royce, and Ser Garlan to confirm the union. Also, in the crowd was the shadowbinder, Quaithe. Jon stood center as he was the Master of Ceremony, by his side was Jorah. He wore new clothes, more suitable for the climate. Jorah groomed his hair back, and his beard trimmed and well kept. Upon his shoulder was a cloak made out of brown fur. I had to hold back a chuckle, wondering if it was made out of a bear.
"Who comes before the old gods this night?" Jon asked aloud.
"Alysanne of the House Targaryen comes here to be wed," Daenerys announced. "A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods."
"Who comes to claim her?"
Jorah stepped forward, "Jorah of House Mormont. Knight of Bear Island. Who gives her?"
"Daenerys of House Targaryen, who is her sister," Daenerys said. "And Torgo Nudho, Commander of the Queen's army."
"Queen Alysanne, will you take this man?" Jon asked.
I stared at Jorah with a smile, "I take this man."
Jorah smiled as he stepped forward, offering his arm. Grey Worm handed me over to Jorah, as my arm let go of my commander and into my soon-to-be husbands. He led us to the Heart Tree, where the face of the Old God stared at us with weeping eyes of red sap. We bowed before the deity in prayer as silence engrossed the Godswoods. Only the sound of the fire, the soft moans of the wind, and the distance sounds of passing animals could be heard. After a few moments, we stood up. Missandei came over, removing my cloak while Jorah took his off and wrapping it on my shoulders.
Thus, concluded the ceremony.
Or so I thought until Jon came over holding a white ribbon. "In respect to the bride's religion, the groom has asked to seal the bond in the Faith of the Seven."
My eyes widen, not expecting it. My husband knew I was devoted to the Faith of the Seven. And yet, he took it into consideration of our union. Tears glossed over, appreciating it. The Faith was my only connection to my mother. We turned to face Jon offering our hand; my right and Jorah's left.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls binding them as one for eternity," Jon said, securing the ribbon around our hands. "Look upon one another and say the words."
Jorah and I stared at one another.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger . . . I am his/her, and he/she is mine . . . from this day until the end of my days."
Jorah used his free hand, cradling my cheek, before leaning down and kissed me on the lips. Solidifying our union. The Lords and Ladies applauded to us in celebration for our marriage. Although I think they are happy that a Queen is marrying one of their own that isn't the King. If not securing the North, since there be no cause if I were to attack it since my husband is a Northerner.
When we broke from the kiss, Jorah took something out of his pocket. He removed the ribbon, taking hold of my left hand. I was confused at first wondering if this was another tradition.
"If I may," He murmured.
I nodded, relaxing my left hand. He slid something on my left ring finger, a ring. It was a small band with a seam on it made of simple metal. It took me a moment to realize it was made from a key. Jorah always mentioned when a Mormont truly marries someone they love, they are given a key from their home. Replacing a building to that of a person. I was Jorah's home now. Unable to restrain myself, I leaned up and kissed him again.
I was his, and he was mine.
No longer as Knight and Queen.
But as Husband and Wife.
.o0o.
The reception took place in the Small Hall. Tables were arranged like they did for the previous feast. A group of musicians played in the background giving a festive tune completely different from the last. Jorah and I sat at the head table, with Daenerys on my side and Lady Lyanna on Jorah's.
The food consisted of Venison and Venison pie, gravy, onion stew, and roasted vegetables, along with bread. Ale, wine, and cider was passed around. The Northerners were enjoying themselves, along with my council and the few southern lords. It was simple. The way Jorah and I would like it. Our introverted selves showing itself. Not being as lavish than most would anticipate. Throughout the meal, Jorah held my hand, as if not wanting to let go.
"You're making it difficult to eat Jorah," I teased.
"Forgive me," Jorah murmured, lifting my hand to his lips.
I chuckled softly.
"So, how does it feel to be King?" I asked.
"King Consort," Lyanna corrected. "Don't raise his pride more than it should be."
I chuckled softly again.
"Seems the North has their own Lady of Thorns," I murmured to Jorah.
He snorted from that. Lyanna merely smirked as she took a sip of cider. The meal continued onward in peace. The Small Hall, with the amount of people inside was a bit crowded for dancing. I haven't danced in a long time. Not since the Veil. Under the influence of wine, pleading Jorah to dance with me until he conceded. I doubt he is up for a dance. Then again, it was three weeks ago since the battle. People might not be interested in dancing.
After the savory food, we cut into another pie filled with wild berries.
Daenerys stood up, raising her glass, "King Snow, I think it's time for the bedding ceremony."
The guests started knocking on the table and banging their goblets. Followed by the chanting of "To bed!"
Jon stood up, "If you think the time is right, Khaleesi, by all means, let us bed them."
A boom of laughter engulfed the room. I blushed, for I forgot the bedding ceremony was not like the ones in the Free Cities. How the men carry the bride to the wedding chambers while ripping her clothes off. The same goes for women dragging the groom, tearing his clothes as well. Several men stood up, making their way over.
Suddenly Jorah stood slamming his goblet, "None shall touch her. It wouldn't be right if I broke a man's jaw on our wedding night."
I stare at Jorah, astounded, followed by a thankful smile. I, for one, not feel comfortable to be touch by other men or exposing myself. Jorah knew how I value modesty. He stared at me with a caring smile, offering a hand. I accepted as I stood up. We walked around the table, when Jorah did the unexpected, by swooping me off my feet and carried me out. The guests laughed and cheered as Jorah carried his bride to our quarters. All I know is that I felt flustered by the warmth in my cheeks. At least it's not strange men groping me. Also, I liked seeing Jorah's jealous side again.
I couldn't help but chuckle.
.o0o.
Jorah still held me, while I opened the door to make it easy for him. Once inside, he set me down on my feet, then closed the door. My apartment has changed, as candles were lit all around, the scent of incense filled the air, the fireplace lit. The bed was made with fresh sheets, blankets, and furs along with bundles of herbs. I turned around, facing Jorah with a smile.
My husband smiled back, "Forgive me. For I did not want another man to touch you like that."
"Your jealousy always amuses me," I teased.
"Jealousy?" He murmured pulling me into his arms and pinning me there. "And pride."
As he leans down, he gives me a dominating kiss. I tried to kiss him back, but I couldn't help the fit of giggles. Jorah pulled back, raising a brow, before laughing as well.
"I'm probably the second Northerner who refused a bedding ceremony," he said, tucking a strand of hair out of my face.
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"Ned Stark," he answered.
I nodded, leaving it there. Jorah pecked my forehead, knowing not to go further. Ned Stark was one of the handfuls of men behind my family's downfall. Only he had a legitimate reason in the Usurper's Rebellion; therefore, I don't hold it against the Quiet Wolf.
"Husband," I murmured.
Jorah cradle my cheek, "Wife."
We smiled for our dream had come true to be married to one another. No longer did status separate us. Age, status, or birthright pulled us apart. We were now married and together forever.
Jorah gave another peck, as he led us further into the room. Once we were in the center of the room, Jorah removed the fur cloak, setting it on the lounge chair, then went over to the table to pour us some wine. I took the opportunity of the distraction to remove the etched gold belt with pearls, along with my necklace and hairpin. I set them on the vanity to be safe. I worked on the boots, taking them off, along with the leggings.
Jorah chuckled, seeing the wool leggings.
"Sad to say, I'm cold-blooded like a lizard," I chuckled nervously.
"You've been adapting well," he murmured, coming over and handed me the chalice.
I stared at the glass, noting it was not wine but cider. I smiled softly since cider didn't have the same potency as wine. I took a sip, savoring the crisp flavor of apple with a hint of fermentation.
"I must say, I do enjoy the cider," I said. "It is not as bitter as wine."
Jorah nodded, "That is true."
He knew I've been hesitant on wine and strong alcoholic drinks that could hide flavors. Once we finished our drinks, Jorah set the glasses down on the vanity and took my hand, leading in front of the fireplace where there was warmth.
My heart beats rapidly. The nerves returning. I don't know why I was nervous since we've had sex many times. Only this time we were consummating our marriage. We stared at each other for a moment, until I took one of Jorah's hand to undo one of the side lacings. He tugged on the strings, slithering through the crosshatching to untangle the restraints. Jorah leaned down, kissing me softly, taking his time. His other hand working on the other side lace. My hands went to his collarbone, working on the fasting of his jerkin. Once undone, he shrugged them off as we worked together in taking off his gambeson. Leaving him in his boots, trousers, and shirt.
One sharp tug, the dress came down, leaving me in my chemise. The dress pooling around my feet. I didn't bother to wear a corset, since the dress was a bit constructed on the bodice, if not easy on my ribs. They were tender, as the bones weren't healed quite yet. The next article of clothing was his shirt. The scars of war and his battle of greyscale evidently shown. It will be some time before the scars soften. I placed my hand over his heart in which he covered mine. His pecks heaved up and down, his heart fluttered the same as mine, our breathing becoming heavy.
The rest of Jorah's clothing came off, along with his boots. Calloused fingers came to the string that held my chemise together. Untying it, pulling the strings that the top became loose. He grabbed one of the sleeves, causing the silk fabric to fall off my shoulders. However, I have to undo the ties on my arms and the buttons on the cuffs allowing the rest of the chemise to fall down to my waist until reaching my ankles. I work on the small cloth, leaving me bare as he was.
There were small patches of yellow that marred my skin from bruising. A faint scar along my torso that was magically healed thanks to Quaithe. Sea blue eyes examined my body, taking in the flesh before him. For once, I felt like prey and I covered my breasts.
"Bloody well say something?" I chuckled nervously.
"Alysanne …you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he murmured in awe.
"Are you as scared as I am?" I asked.
"I suppose I must be afraid, aye?" he answered, eyes still locked to my own.
I smiled a little, taking his hand and bringing it up to my breast. Jorah caressed it for a moment, until taking both of my hands and bringing it to his chest.
"This is your last chance," Jorah warned softly. "Once we consummate, I will never let you go."
I smiled softly, appreciating him offering this chance to break the union. I leaned up, standing on my toes to kiss him on the lip.
"I am yours, as you are mine," I whispered along his lips.
Jorah scooped me in his arms and carried me to the bed. He set me in the center, pushing the herbs off the bed to provide space. Our lips met once, twice, and then he was claiming me with earnest, suckling the lower lip until my lips were swelling. I was moving recently under his moving hands, he began slowly until he claimed my left hand. Nibbling first on my fingertips, kissing the ring, then turned my wrist. He traced the veins under my ivory skin, following them to the creases of my elbow. The way his lips and beard felt along my skin sent shudders through me.
From my arm, he inevitably came to my breast. Warmth seeped through my body, while his touch and the slightly chilled air harden my nipples. Jorah sat up, spreading my legs to kneel over me. An aching pressure inside me, wanting him now to seal our consummation. Jorah traces the curve of my breast, cupping it with delicate attention. He slid his thumb around the nipple until it aches. Instinctively, my body pushed into his touch, needing more.
Not liking the touching, I slid hand toward his shaft, which lay semi-erect against my hips, except he pushed my hand away. I pouted, which earned me a chuckle from him. He leaned down, kissing me vigorously, his tongue teasing me. I shuddered as his long-calloused fingers glided to the inside of my thigh, working their way up until they found the folds. I inhaled sharply as he stroked the folds, pressing deeper when making contact with my clit. I whimpered, wanting more, wrapping my arms around him. Jorah inserted his finger inside me. I felt the slide of wetness as he thrust his finger in and out.
"That's it," he cooed.
He stroked and coaxed, sliding in a second finger as my hips rolled to meet his hand. Jorah always does this. He always prepared my body before penetration due to his size. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, moaning when he curled his fingers upwards, pressing my sensitive spot.
"Please," I gasped. "I want you inside me."
"I will," he promised, stroking that spot again.
"Ah!" I gasped once more. "Together, please."
Seeing how desperate I was, he nodded, pulling his fingers out. Carefully, he adjusted my legs as he placed one hand next to my head while his right took hold of his member. He pumped it a few times till it was nice and hard. He leaned down, kissing me while forcing his cock inside me. I moaned, feeling my walls stretch due to his girth and length. Jorah groaned, savoring the moment until moving his left hand to cradle cheek while taking my right hand, entwining our fingers to the side.
He bent my right leg, giving him more access, he began to thrust. Holding back lest eagerness, that would make him rough. I writhed under him with small, needy moans. There was a lot to take, every stroke easing in more and more until every nerve in my body sang. He thrust again and again, and I moaned and gasped. Jorah groaned, his sea-blue eyes piercing into my indigo orbs. He pressed his mouth over mine, swallowing my moans as he found all the right places.
The pace soon started to increase, going faster and harder. Jorah rested his head against my neck while my free hand clings to his back, holding on. Over and over, he impaled me with his flesh. The air leaving my lungs and my walls desperately trying to hold onto him. My hips trying to meet each of his thrusts. It wasn't long until his member grew, twitching inside me. An indication he was close. Pulled back a little, he adjusted our position, raising my hips, as he hammered again. One hand hovered over my mons, twiddling his fingers over my clit. A bolt of pleasure when up my spine. It was too much, my walls clenched around him, and I came. Arching my back with a moan.
"Jorah," I cried.
Jorah hunched over me, claiming my lips thrusting rapidly to gain his release. On the fifth thrust, he came, spilling his seeds. Solidifying the consummation of our marriage.
"Alysanne," Jorah groaned as he collapsed on top of me. His hips bucking a few times as his semen continued to shoot inside.
I wrapped my arms around him. Bodies still tense, slowly recovering from the orgasm. All around, I could feel him inside and out, feeling his heartbeat rapidly against my chest. The smell of sweat coating our skin along with the herbs on the bed. Hearing him panting and the crackling of the fire. Slowly, Jorah slides out and laid on his side. He wrapped an arm around me, bringing me close. I chuckled, resting my head on his chest.
"Now, you are officially my husband," I murmured.
"Aye, and you, my wife," he replied back panting. "I must say, I'm the happiest man alive."
I giggled, which was rare.
Slowly I adjusted myself and picked up one of the bundles of herbs. The scent of parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. I felt relaxed from smelling these earthy herbs along with a small hint of basil.
"Is there a tradition with the herbs?" I asked.
Jorah plucked the bundle out of my hand, "Usually, it would be flowers. However, in the winter, herbs replace them."
"Is there a meaning behind them," I asked.
"If I recall correctly, basil means love, parsley is gratitude, sage for wisdom, rosemary is remembrance, and thyme represents courage. Someone really thought hard on the herbs for us." Jorah answered.
"Sounds like a delicious recipe for a stew," I chuckled.
"Or qualities for a babe," he jested.
I paused, looking at him, "Jorah, I want you to know, I do want a babe. I want as many as the gods can allow it. I…I want to wait until the war is over."
Jorah leaned up and pecked me on the lips, "When you are ready. I'm just honored you've chosen me."
I nodded, appreciating it. Once we reclaim King's Landing and Cersei no longer queen will we try for a babe.
We adjusted the furs and blankets, getting underneath to cuddle. I stared at the fireplace, seeing the three dragon eggs still there. A part of me had hoped that by keeping the dragon eggs warm, they would hatch. It was pointless. With how Viserion, Rhaegal, and Drogon were born because of magic, sacrificing a witch. Doubt there are any witches left in Westeros.
Sleep had avoided us, as we lay there admiring each other. Jorah's hand traced along my side and hips. He leaned over, kissing my chest and breast.
"Your breasts are like ivory," he murmured, tracing a finger on the areola. He leaned up giving me a peck. "You with your skin like …white velvet," his hand went down lower. "…and sweet long lines of your body."
I chuckled softly only to be pulled into him for a kiss. A gasp escaped me as he rubbed my privates.
"I couldna look at ye and keep my hands from you nor be near you and not want ye," he continued, voice heavy in a Northern accent.
I continued to kiss him while caressing his face, "Is that how you felt first time we lay together?"
"The moment you kissed me in my tent," he confessed.
He slid a hand to my hip, his palm warm and rough. He hooked my knee, drawing it over his thigh so that space between us disappeared. We kissed again, although I was already wet for him. Locked in the kiss, I slid my hand between us and grabbed his member. Gently pumping it to get it hard once more. By the time he was erect, Jorah had lifted my leg higher to his hip while I guided his cock inside me. He pumped slowly, eyes closed, and our mouths touching then not. The climax was not necessary; it was feeling this connection. Feeling him inside me. After a while, Jorah did come again, and I was content feeling a small flutter in my walls.
We were both exhausted and let sleep consume us.
.o0o.
I awoke in the middle of the night. The howling of the winds of a possible storm crossing through. I turned around in Jorah's arm, finding him still asleep. Then again, he can sleep through a blizzard and yet wake from a thunderstorm. Even can wake if he sensed an ominous threat. I smiled softly, then shivered from the cold air.
The fire was going down. With a shudder, I climbed out of bed and carefully removed the eggs before adding another log. Using the fire poker, I managed to maintain the fire, putting the eggs back into place before sitting down on the lounge chair. There was a slight chill, I grabbed the cloak and wrapped it around me. The inside was lined with woven wool and linen while the outside was brown fur. No doubt from a bear, based on the texture is different from wolves, badgers, foxes, and hares.
I sighed, relaxing. I lifted my left hand to examine the ring. It wasn't fancy like the ring from the Veil, but it held Jorah's style. Rugged and simple. I smiled softly when he told me the Mormont tradition of the key becoming a ring. I value the simplest of things rather than luxury. Despite the past four years of being a Queen of Meereen, I didn't overindulge in gold. In fact, the only time I wore so much gold was at the Daznak Pit.
I sighed again, tracing over the scar on my left shoulder. It seems like I acquired a new scar each year in passing. Many years of mental scars, until Viserys cut me along the chest. Then the scars on my back and shoulder and now the scar on my torso, magically induced to save Viserion from the Ice Dragon's infliction.
A sudden rattle caught me off guard as a long strand of pearls came in front of me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Jorah was awake. He softly smiled at me as he placed the pearls down and dropped them on my neck. It was a long necklace that reached to my sternum. I held the bottom end, examining them. Seeing each pearl was of different size and shape, not a perfect sphere.
"They're Bay of Ice pearls," Jorah explained as he sat down on the lounge. "They belonged to my mother. And now they belong to you." He sighed, "They're one of the few things I have left of her and are very precious to me. As are you, Alysanne."
Jorah barely talks about his mother. Lady Mormont died from a tragic illness, one that took her suddenly. Her death severed House Mormont between Jorah and Jeor. All I knew is that she was a strong woman, a shieldmaiden who had the spirit of a mother bear.
I adjusted myself leaning closer to press my lips against his shoulder. On a patch of scarred tissue. We are both damaged people inside and out. Betrayed by our spouses and suffered the consequences of their actions. War and survival marred our skin. Although we come from different customs, he a Northerner and I a Southerner with three cultures of Valyrian, Andal, and Rhoynar, we still make it work.
"I love you," I murmured, cradling his cheek, and kissed him on the lips.
I kissed him again, before pulling back to stare at his eyes. Love and lust mingled together. He maneuvers his leg to straddle the lounge. Securing the cloak, I crawled over and wrapped my legs around his hips. Jorah secured me, wrapping an arm around my waist and buttocks. Slowly he eased me down onto his length. A sigh escaped my lips, feeling his fullness. Jorah leaned down, kissing each of my breasts, while the pearls dance along my skin.
I rested my hands on his shoulders, rocking slowly into him. Our eyes locked to one another, moving our hips together. It was not passionate lovemaking or fucking. No, it was a slow, gentle kind to savor one another. To be close to one another. Carefully I brought the cloak to wrap around Jorah as well. So, we were both warm on this cold winter night.
"I love you too," Jorah murmured, claiming my lips.
I sighed, breathing him in.
.o0o.
Outside the door, Quaithe stood there. She could hear the faint moans and sighs, knowing the newly wedded couple were making love at this late hour. Her dark eyes shimmer, having a vision. Multiple visions of the union between Ice and Fire. The same vision she saw back in Qarth. She smiled under her metal mask. Although the smile dimmed for there was an obstacle Alysanne will encounter. Death can make her stronger or destroy her.
Quaithe warned Jorah of this obstacle, but she did not say what it was. Only that Jorah will need to be there and help her see the light and not fall into madness.
Ever so quietly, she left the corridor to give the newly wedded couple peace.
She dwindles in her spell, knowing within a year there shall be a new dragon, with ice in his blood.
What do you guys think?
There are some inspirations from early episodes of Game of Thrones and Outlander.
Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!