Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Languages:
Common Tongue
Dothraki
Chapter 96: I See Fire
Jon's POV
Jon walked around Winterfell, seeing the progress. He had to admit without the Unsullieds' help in the cleanup and the reconstruction, they be two months behind. Now all that remains is the basic stuff. The North seemed at peace, as many of the lesser houses have returned to their lands and property. Including Lady Lyanna Mormont, who left last, returning to bear island.
Unfortunately, Lady Mormont isn't the only one who left. Arya left two weeks ago with Sandor. She wanted to be part of the war to take down Cersei. Jon and Sansa tried hard to convince Arya that she needed to let go of her list. Yet Arya said she will not rest until she is sure everyone on her list is dead. Jon new many of those on Arya's list died by other people. The only people she managed to kill was Walder Frey and his sons, Ser Meryn Trant, Polliver, and Rorge. She lost an opportunity to kill Joffrey and Tywin Lannister. Let alone forgiving Ser Beric, Thoros of Myr, Melisandre, and Sandor Clegane. Meanwhile, Illyn Payne recently passed away from age. There are only two people left, Cersei and The Mountain.
There was no stopping Arya. If he could, he would have grabbed her, but Jon knew Arya can just flip him over on his back. Or worse, kill him. She was no longer the stubborn little girl he remembered years ago. She was now a woman who can kill. And from his experience, women who know how to use a weapon should not be messed with.
Anyway, Jon continued to walk around, joining Sansa and Ser Brienne. Seeing how the rations are going and grain. Things were peaceful. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Until Maester Walkon came with a raven scroll.
"What is it, Maester Walkon?" Jon asked.
"A raven from Lord Tyrion," Maester Walkon answered, a bit hesitant.
Jon took hold of the raven scroll and read it. At first, he thought it was an update since Tyrion would let him know where they were at. Yet he recalls he hasn't received a letter in two weeks. At first, Jon assumed it due to the winter storms. However, when he read the letter, his heart dropped.
"What is it?" Sansa asked.
Jon took a deep breath, "Daenerys headed to Dorne only to be capture by Euron and Drogon badly injured. Queen Alysanne went to make a trade, Cersei had Daenerys executed."
This surprised Sansa and Ser Brienne.
"Tyrion is asking me to come south," Jon said.
"For what?" Sansa asked.
"Rhaegal, they need all the dragons they can get," Jon explained.
"Anything else?" Sansa asked.
"Queen Alysanne request only the dragons," Jon answered.
"No soldiers or resources?" Sansa asked to be sure.
"She is a woman of her word," Jon replied, taking a deep breath.
All the guilt building up for many things. He felt guilty for not going south with Alysanne. If he was there, maybe he could have helped in getting Daenerys back. Also, he felt guilty about how things ended with Daenerys. He truly cared about her. It was just they were related. Daenerys was his aunt, and growing up in the North, both old religion and new, incest is wrong. Especially hearing the results of Joffrey's parentage. Still, the fact they left on bad terms and will never have a chance to reconcile.
"I need to go," Jon said.
"No, just send Rhaegal," Sansa countered.
"Rhaegal needs a rider," he explained.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Jon knew he can't tell Sansa about his parentage just yet. Alysanne made him promise to wait until they claim King's Landing. So, he lied, he knows Sansa and Arya will hold it against him for it. But he is a man of his word.
"Only those with Valyrian blood can ride a dragon," Jon started. "Queen Alysanne believes my mother might have been of Valyrian descent. That is how I can control Rhaegal."
Sansa paused, taking in his lie. Although, it was his father was of Valyrian descendant. His father being Rhaegar Targaryen.
Sansa took a deep breath, "Are you sure?"
"I need to help them," he assured.
Sansa sighed, "All right. Just…just don't do anything reckless. And at least take Ser Davos with you."
Jon gave a small smile, appreciating it, "I'll leave Ghost here."
Sansa nodded, appreciating it. Jon can't leave Sansa alone with Bran, not until he got the confirmation of whose side the Three-Eyed Raven is on. From what Jon got from the Night King, this entity that possesses his brother is not on the side for humanity. As much as Ser Brienne is by Sansa, he wants to make sure there are those with her to ensure security. Even when they are cousins, Jon will always see Sansa as his sister.
Suddenly Ser Jaime came over with them with caution. His green eyes staring at the raven scroll.
"What happened?" Ser Jaime asked.
They look at each other for a moment until Brienne answered, "Euron Greyjoy ambushed Princess Daenerys. One of the dragons was severely injured, yet managed to destroy several ships, and the princess captured. Queen Alysanne tried to make a truce, and Cersei executed Princess Daenerys."
Ser Jaime's eyes widen.
"I always wanted to be there when they execute your sister," Sansa said. "Seems like I won't get the chance."
She then walked away, leaving the three. Jon stared at Ser Jaime. He doesn't know the full details, yet the benevolence Alysanne may have a plan for Cersei is definitely gone. Jon knows the feeling when Ramsey Bolton toyed with Rickon's life. How the madman turned his brother into prey and run for his life on the battlefield. Jon was only several feet away from Rickon, only to watch his kid-brother be shot through the back by an arrow. The anger and need for vengeance stirred inside him throughout the battle until running toward Winterfell, where he encountered Ramsey. All the emotions raptured as he punched Ramsey to near death until he saw Sansa. Sansa reminded him what Ramsey had done to her, and thought it was best she gets her revenge.
Almost five years, he thought his family was eradicated by the Lannisters and Bolton's. Only to discover his siblings/cousins survived and find out he had two aunts. Now Jon wonder's how Alysanne is taking things now, witnessing her sister be murder before her very eyes. The only sibling you had left taken from you. Jon may not know much of his Targaryen heritage, but he knew he needed to help his paternal family. It is at least he can do.
Jon excused himself as he went to find Ser Davos. He wanted to depart as soon as possible, along with telling the castle butcher to get a few cattle to Rhaegal. The dragon will need as much food he can to fly to Dragonstone.
Once he had that sorted, he went to his room and locked the door. He sat down in a chair by the bowed his head covering his face. He had to act strong in front of his people, only behind closed doors can he express himself—the guilt in how he treated Daenerys. In Jon did in fact, loved her, or at least started to fall in love with her. Except he was raised differently than her when it comes to incest. The practice was taboo, practically forbidden. If only they were not related or could have been cousins. It seems like no matter how much he can love someone, they ended up taken away.
.o0o.
The following day Ser Davos and Jon were leaving Winterfell. Rhaegal was at the gate prepared for departure. Through the bond, he could sense the dragon's joy to leave the cold. As he was reaching the gate. Jon had already said his goodbyes to Sansa and Bran, telling them not to get in trouble.
"You're gonna ride the dragon south?" Tormund called out, catching up.
"He's faster than a horse," Jon replied, walking over.
Tormund scoffed, "You weigh as much as two fleas fucking."
Jon couldn't help but chuckle.
"I'm taking the Free Folk home," Tormund announced. "We've had enough of the south. The women down here don't like me."
"This is the North, you know," Jon reminded. "And the Free Folk are welcome to stay."
"It isn't home. We need room to wander. I'll take them back through Castle Black as soon as the winter storms pass. Back where we belong." Tormund explained.
"I wish I was going with you," Jon absent-mindedly said, then sighed, realizing the words slipped from his mouth. He looked at is wildling friend. "This is farewell, then."
"You never know," Tormund said, giving the young King a hug and robust pat on the back. "You've got the North in you. The real North."
Jon nodded as Tormund pulled away and left.
He then spotted Sam and Gilly walking over. With everything that has happened, he barely got a chance to see his best friend. Ever since the Night's Watch is no more, Jon has welcome Sam to be part of his council. Appointing Sam as the Royal Advisor. Sam appreciated it, as does Gilly.
Gilly came over, offering Jon a hug. Jon accepted, in the midst of the hug, he felt something pressed against his torso. His dark eyes widen as he pulled away, staring at Gilly and then her swollen belly, estimating she was nearing the third trimester. Gilly merely smiled as Sam gave a confirmed grin.
"Yes, well, the nights have been getting longer, and there wasn't much to do in Oldtown," Sam explained. "There's only so many books a person can read, so we—"
"I'm sure he knows how it happens, Sam." Gilly interrupted his nervous rant.
Sam nodded while Jon chuckled.
"When I get back. I'll make sure to legitimize your child," Jon promised.
Sam gave an appreciated smile.
"If it's a boy, we want to name him Jon," Gilly said.
Jon's smile dropped, "I hope it's a girl."
With nothing else to say, Jon hugged Sam. All the years they went through, and now they must depart for the third time.
"You're the best friend I ever had," Sam said.
Jon nodded, "You too, Sam."
With nothing else to say, he walked towards the gate until hearing Ghost whimpered. Jon walked over to his furry friend Ghost came closer, nudging Jon, that the human started rubbing his neck, being careful of the torn ear.
"I have to go," Jon murmured. "I need you to stay here and watch over Sansa for me. Can you do that?"
Ghost nodded. Jon gave a small smile appreciating his wolf, giving him one more scratch until heading over to the gate. Where Ser Davos was securing his harness. It was one thing he was glad of making since Alysanne showed him the importance of the harness. After the Great War, and being tossed off, it was something he did not want to experience again. A stable boy handed him his harness as he put it on.
"I don't think I'm gonna like flying," Ser Davos muttered.
"You'll get used to it," Jon assured. "Just don't look down."
Ser Davos grumbled as he double checks his harness.
As the two men secured their weapons and supplies, Ser Jaime came over with his things.
"Do you have room for one more?" Ser Jaime asked.
The two men were shocked to see him here.
"Is it wise for you to go south?" Ser Davos asked. "The Queen might not want to see you."
"I might be of assistance," Ser Jaime offered.
Jon stared at the knight, "You know your sister is most likely to be executed."
"All I can do is try," Ser Jaime explained. "Petition for my sister to be exiled."
"Is there something we should know about?" Ser Davos asked.
Ser Jaime took a deep breath, "My sister is pregnant, and I don't want harm to come to the child."
Jon took a deep breath, not wanting to think who the father is. However, Ser Jaime knows of King's Landing and can be a good asset. If Alysanne asked him to be responsible for the Kingslayer's action, then Jon will take accountability. So, the King in the North nodded, asking for another harness. Ser Jaime sighed in relief.
Once they were all settled, they climbed on top of Rhaegal. Jon being in the front, taking possession of the saddle and secured the latch on his harness. The men tied the line, ensuring their safety. When they were ready, Jon closed his eyes and whispered the Valyrian words, syncing his spirit to Rhaegal.
Rhaegal gave a roar before he started to sprint down the field until taking off to the sky.
.o0o.
Dragonstone
Jorah entered the Chamber of the Painted Table, where Alysanne mainly resigned, staring out to the coast, watching a storm approaching. Missandei was standing beside her. On the table was a tray of food, yet from what he could see, barely a quarter of it has been eaten, and Jorah assumed it was from Missandei. He walked in further, noticing the fire was almost out. Thinking about how cold it was, he stepped over there, starting another fire to ensure the women are warm.
Missandei came over when hearing him enter.
"How is she?" Jorah asked.
"She will not eat," Missandei answered quietly. "She even refuses to sleep. I managed to get her to drink water."
Jorah sighed, knowing that is a start. It has been over a week since the tragic event. At first, once out of sight of King's Landing and away from the soldiers, Alysanne had broken down in the forest. She cried nonstop; her wails almost compared to that of a banshee. Jorah came by her side and held her, doing his best to comfort her. No one should ever see their sister murdered like that. Not even Alysanne. Hours she cried, nearly making herself sick, that he had to remove her armor and held her hair. It would have been night time when she cried herself to sleep.
Grey Worm and Missandei soon arrived with a wagon, as they took her to a ship to sail back to Dragonstone. Upon the docks, another cart appeared from a messenger. Inside the cart was Daenerys's remains. Tyrion explained that Qyburn had the body delivered out of good faith. Although, Jorah thinks the Unchained Maester was trying to gain favor if Cersei should fall. Throughout the sailing, Alysanne remained unconscious, the stress and exhaustion finally caught up to her.
Until the nightmare came. They had docked at Dragonstone bay; did she wake up screaming from a nightmare. Jorah tried everything to calm her until she asked where Daenerys is. Denial is one of the stages of grief, so it hurt when he had to tell Alysanne that Daenerys was indeed dead. It felt like he literally stabbed her in the heart, seeing those indigo eyes become dull and lifeless. She was compliant when getting to shore and back to the Castle. However, the moment she entered the royal apartment, did she mentally shut down.
Missandei and Jorah tried hard to get Alysanne to eat and sleep. Even Varys tried to help by slipping some herbs into the stews and soup that could knock a person out, without complications. Yet Alysanne would not eat, nor did she drink any wines, ciders, or teas. Until recently, she sipped on water now and then.
Things have changed the past five days as Alysanne was mentally gone. While Missandei was aiding to the Queen, Jorah had to be in charge. They have about a month left before the siege. Raven scrolls came from Highgarden and the Watergardens of soldiers marching their way. Meanwhile, Jorah tried hard to convince the Dothraki not to kill themselves. Daenerys had made all her men bloodriders, and by bloodrider customs, they will have to kill themselves. Yet Jorah managed to convince them that they can't join their Khaleesi until she is put to rest and avenged. Kovarro helped in delaying the inevitable. And Jorah hopes that they can convince the Dothraki after the war to return to Essos and start over.
Five days.
Five terrible days.
Jorah got up and walked over to the window, standing by his wife's side. Alysanne was in a black Valyrian gown. Her hair down and tangled by the wind. Those five days have made her skin pale, paler than ever before. Bruising under her eyes from the lack of sleep. The worse was how gaunt she became to be. Almost thin when traveling through the Red Waste, that he could see her collar bone. The fire in her eyes has become a dim ember.
He sat down, "You need to eat."
She did not break her attention from the storm.
"Alysanne, I beg you, don't starve yourself," he pleaded and took her hand. "You need to eat and sleep."
Silence.
Jorah gestured Missandei to bring the bread over. The Naathi complied, as she brought the small loaf over. He took hold of it, and adjusted Alysanne's face to watch him. He took a bite to prove it was not poison, before breaking a small piece and bringing it up to her lips. She did not open her lips.
"Please, eat this for me," he begged.
Her eyes began to water as she slowly opens her lips. Jorah sighed in relief, as he helped her eat the bread. They were small nibbles, and on occasions, she would cough from the dryness until Missandei brought the water over. It took some time; through tears, they managed to get her to eat the roll. Once it was gone, Jorah sighed in relief, hugging his wife.
Grief is a powerful emotion.
He knew of it when his mother died and Gillian his first wife passed away. Along with hearing the news of his father, Jeor's death. However, he will not understand the pain Alysanne was going through in losing her only blood family. He knew Daenerys was more than just a sister to Alysanne. The Khaleesi was a daughter as well despite the four-year age difference. Alysanne spent the majority of her life protecting Daenerys until now.
A small sobbed escaped her lips as she clings to her husband. The numbness finally breaking, but Jorah knew this was the start.
"Get some rest," he murmured.
"I can't," she whispered.
He looked at her with concern while she refused to return the gaze.
"I can't relive that moment," she mumbled.
Jorah sighed as he pecked the top of her head.
After a while, he left the Chamber of the Painted Table, entering the throne room where Varys and Tyrion were. They stood there, waiting on any updates. Jorah knew Tyrion has been cautious, not that he could blame him. The half-man promised to get Daenerys back, as if he knows how to outwit his sister. Yet Tyrion gambles and wins because he had nothing to lose. Alysanne put so much faith in Tyrion's hand. And he had lost. Even when Alysanne said she will resign from the war; Tyrion didn't used that special card. Now Tyrion fears he will lose his position as Hand of the Queen, or worse his life.
"Anything?" Tyrion asked.
"She managed to eat some bread," Jorah answered.
The two sighed in relief.
"Any news?" Jorah asked.
"The men wanted to know about what to do with the body?" Varys replied. "It is about to decay."
"A storm is passing. Hopefully, tomorrow we can do a funeral pyre," Jorah decided.
"She could be buried right next to her mother," Tyrion said.
"No," Alysanne voice broke out.
The men turned around to see Alysanne standing at the door with a tear-stained face. Tyrion and Varys gave a bow in greeting.
"Once the storm passes, we will have a funeral pyre," she managed to say.
"Your Grace, she's immune to fire, just like you," Tyrion tried to reason.
Alysanne shook her head, "How can fire burn itself when the embers are gone?"
With nothing else to say, she went back to the Chamber of the Painted Table. The Three stood there, taking her words in and accepted it. For once, they were relieved to know she was coming back to her senses. However, Tyrion and Varys were still concern about her mentality. Fearing that Alysanne will be another Queen Helaena Targaryen, the wife of Aegon the Second, whose depression was comparable to madness after witnessing her son's death. The late queen couldn't take it anymore and committed suicide. Trauma can do many things, and Tyrion feared for his sister while Varys caution how the siege will go. Will Alysanne take a more violent approach or follow the plan.
Jorah knew he needed to get Alysanne stable again before the siege.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
She looked beautiful, even in death.
I stood next to Daenerys's body. The Silent Sisters did the best they could in restoring Daenerys' vessel. The damage from the fall was gone, while her head was sewn back to her body. The outfit I gave covered the stitching. Missandei stood next to me, holding a hairbrush. She was waiting for me to start the next step. When I entered the room, I couldn't move.
I know she is dead for I saw it. However, a part of me is screaming for my sweet sister to wake up. In the end, I will never see those violet eyes again. Never hear her voice. See the smile she held for me. Practically everything about her was gone, except for a vessel. The fire inside her extinguished.
I took a deep breath, as I nodded, brushing Daenerys's hair in many braids and manipulating them for her funeral. The air had a mixture of death and lavender. Yet Missandei did not protest, only breathed through her mouth to avoid the scent. I did not care; it was just a reminder that my sister was dead. Once her hair was settled, we placed the jewelry. Items I want her to have either it is the Night Lands or the Seven Heavens. Either way, she will have treasures to remember who she was.
All I felt was numbness. It was like I was awake, yet at the same time, nothing seemed to matter. As if all of this is just an empty realm. Everyone appeared like a ghost, not really there. As much as Jorah and Missandei tried hard to get me back on my feet, everything was nothing. The warmth of their touches was cold. The food practically is dusts in my mouth, while water is the only thing manageable to consume. I was a living ghost losing virtually my purpose. I made a promise to bring Daenerys home…except I've failed her.
"Alysanne, if I may…" Missandei started.
I lifted my head, staring at her to speak.
"In my culture, we have a saying…that death is only the beginning," she explained. "In Naarth, we believe the butterflies are our ancestors, reborn to protect us from the pirates. I believe Daenerys will be reborn again to guide you."
I sighed looking down, cradling my sister's cheek, "She will not be reborn. She either be in the Night Lands riding alongside Drogo and Rhaego, or in one of the Seven Heavens. Death is final. A passage to our eternal life."
Missandei only nodded, despite our religious beliefs, we still believe there's more in the afterlife than oblivion. When we were finished, I kissed Daenerys on the lips. Whispering the Seven rights to her. Praying to the Stranger to take her spirit somewhere she can be happy. To be reunited with her son, Drogo, and our family. My eyes began to water, yet I forced the sobs down, for I need to be strong for the funeral.
When the time came, several of the Dothraki entered to collect the body. Leading them was Kovarro. He came over and nodded in approval. I stepped aside as I watched them put her on a stretcher and carried out, heading towards the funeral pyre that waited in the field. Missandei and I followed.
Out in the field, there was a massive funeral pyre. Far more substantial than any pyre created for a leader. The three rings set, with a horse underneath and all the treasures. The Dothraki had circled around, as did the Unsullied. Next to the pyre were Viserion and Drogon. The Black Dragon had been silent since the death of his rider. On occasion, he would shriek from the top of his lungs. Although, in the first two days, I bet there were sorrow and agony. The same anguish Viserion felt when I had died. The men were careful in putting Daenerys on top of the pyre, as Kovarro put her in place.
Red Rock came over, holding the three dragon eggs, "Do you want these with the Khaleesi?"
"Yes, hand them over to Kovarro," I instructed.
Red Rock nodded as he headed over to the pyre.
Jorah, who saw this, came over, "This won't bring back the dragons."
"I know," I mumbled. "Only a token."
The last time the dragon eggs were used on a pyre, a witch was being burned. There was no witch, yet I want my sister to hold these treasures in the afterlife. It was clear the dragon eggs were petrified. Merely crystals and gems, nothing more. A delusion in reviving more of the dragons. By the time the pyre was finished, the sun has finally begun to set, and the torches lit.
I stepped forward in front of the pyre speaking in Dothraki, "May the Riders welcome you and lead you through the Great Stallion's starry Khalasar. May they sing your name with love and fury so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Night Lands and know that you've taken your rightful place at the King's table. For a great Khaleesi has fallen: A warrior. A Queen. A Sister. A friend."
The Dothraki gave a battle cry agreeing to the speech.
I stared at the funeral pyre, seeing Daenerys rest in before saying, "Dracarys."
Viserion and Drogon raised their heads and breathed fire onto the pyre setting it ablaze.
"I'm sorry, Daenerys," I whispered as the tears fell. "I'm not the queen that you wanted me to be. I'm not the Peacekeeper I thought I was. I don't know…"
I stood there, watching the flames burn the pyre away. All of the Dothraki gave their wailing cries. They were keening, a loud wailing, or lament for the dead. Their song entering my ears soothing the agonizing pain I felt inside, rattling my bones even though it could not vanquish the emptiness inside me. Their cries awaken a wave of anger deep inside. A rage I have never felt before, filled with so much hatred, that the flames I've seen turned red with blood.
I gave a scream from the top of my lungs.
Cersei wants violence, I will give her violence.
The entire night I stood there watching the flames consumed all the treasures and Daenerys. Slowly turning her body into ashes. The flames captivating me, leaving a trance to see the visions of what Daenerys wanted me to see. Seeing the dragons flying over King's Landing and burning the city to the ground.
Burn them all, Daenerys's voice whispered in my ear.
Follow by another voice. A voice I haven't heard in a long time, the voice of my father. Repeating the same words. Along with more voices from the dead and living. Memories from the past.
He has the better claim to the throne.
Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.
The Mad Kin gave his enemies the justice he thought they deserved.
Children are not their fathers.
Be a dragon.
You have a gentle heart.
A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.
You don't want to awake the dragon, do you?
Burn them all!
I inhaled sharply as the rage buries deep inside me through the heart. My hands were literally shaking while the tears came down like acid. This rage, this anger consuming me with so much hate. All I have done. All of this for nothing. I could feel the scars on my body burn. As if they were ripped open while the phantom blood seeped along my body.
When all of a sudden, a hand was placed on my shoulder. This snapped me out of my trance as I realized it was almost dawn. The pyre was no more, merely ashes and ember. I glanced over my shoulder to see Jorah with a concerned look. Have I've been standing here all this time? I nearly covered my mouth as the tears fell from the emotions I felt.
A side of me I've haven't felt in a long time.
Not since my attempt to kill Viserys.
Shaking my head, I stared at the ashes, until noticing Drogon going to the center. Curious, I walked over to see what is going on. As I reached the center, my eyes widen all of the treasures, and remains were gone, leaving nothing but ash…yet the dragon eggs remained. Drogon lifted his head and stared at me. The pain of losing his rider still in his eyes. He took a deep breath then tensed.
"What is it, Drogon?" I asked.
He lifted his head and nudged me in the stomach. The actioned surprised me, for I didn't expect that. He did it again that I almost stumbled. His nostrils flaring as he continued to breathe in my scent.
"Drogon," I said, trying to calm him down.
Yet he nudged me again. I was utterly confused when all of a sudden, I stumbled backward, falling onto the ground. Viserion rushed over, pushing his brother away. I was thoroughly confused about what just happened. Why Drogon was acting like this. Jorah rushed over as did Missandei and Grey Worm.
"Are you alright?" Jorah asked.
"I'm fine," I answered, watching the two dragons.
They were talking to one another before looking at me. Jorah helped me up, keeping a secured arm around me.
"What would you like for us to do with the ashes?" Missandei asked as she referred to the pile of ashes the dragon eggs laid on top of.
I took a deep breath, "Put them in an urn. We will have a place for it the crypt."
Missandei nodded.
I sighed, feeling light-headed. The weight dragging my eyelids down, impossible to fight them anymore. As everything went dark and my body collapsed.
.o0o.
Jorah caught Alysanne as she fainted. He knew the stress was getting to her and six days without sleeping. Fortunately, the Dothraki left and hour ago. But still, he worried about his wife's health. She needed to rest and eat, not waste away.
"I'll take her inside," Jorah said to Grey Worm and Missandei." Can you handle the ashes?"
Grey Worm and Missandei nodded. Jorah nodded appreciating it, before carrying Alysanne back inside towards the Castle. As he made his way, he noticed Quaithe standing there. He can feel her brown eyes staring at them. When he got closer, he looked at her.
"You need to be there for her," Quaithe murmured.
"I am," Jorah said.
"She is struggling," she noted. "Emotionally and mentally. Remind her she is not alone."
Jorah sighed, "How bad?"
Quaithe just stared at him.
"How can I make her sleep more and eat," he asked.
Quaithe stared at Alysanne, seeing how frail she has become since Daenerys's captured.
"I will provide scented candles and incense that can ease her to sleep," she answered. "Along with herbal oils for the bath. Make her talk to you."
Jorah only nodded, although it was easier said than done. Either way, he has a month to get his wife ready for the siege, even if it means convincing her to stay on Dragonstone during it. In the end, he will remain by her side and help her through this trialing time.
Things are getting intense.
Hey guys, I'm going to be more focus on Sister's Keeper for the rest of August. I finally got a job offer to start my career and I'm totally excited. They job won't start until September, and Sister's Keeper is almost done. So, apologies in advance if you are looking forward to Warg Maiden, The Other Lannister Sister, and Dothraki Moon Festival.
Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!