A tense atmosphere had rightly settled over Winterfell after the confrontation between Stannis and Davos. The latter had spent the rest of the day in his room, not accepting any visitors. Both Bruda and Jorah had tried on multiple occasions due to the constant nagging from Daenerys but they failed every time. It was a fortunate thing then that they were leaving as the sun rose in the morning since Davos would have to leave his sanctuary of isolation. With a chilly air sweeping through the courtyard, two small groups were preparing themselves for their respective journeys. Jorah, clad in much thicker clothes than usual in preparation for the dropping temperatures, scanned his party of people, a collective of no more than five Unsullied soldiers. Davos trudged over to him, giving him a curt nod in greeting. It was more than he expected after the events of the previous day.
"Ready for the long journey?" he asked, hoping to start a conversation at least.
"The timing is a blessing. But don't get it into your head that I'll be moping all the way there. We've got a job to do after all." Jorah smirked at him, glad that his demeanour had improved slightly. He had seen how close he was with Shireen so could only imagine the tumult of emotions going through his head right now.
"You're right about that. I just have a feeling that something is bound to go wrong."
"The curse of being a Northerner. Always programmed to be negative."
Across the open space, the other group was getting ready. It was larger than the band of people heading to Bear Island although it was composed of wildling men instead of Unsullied soldiers. Mance had explained that, since they were going to the top of the North, they needed men who had experienced such a cold before. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to fight to their full capability. That was the other reason for them having a larger number of bodies. They were more likely to be attacked, a point that Bruda was trying his best to put at the back of his mind as he surveyed his men. The trio of Sandor Clegane, Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr were busy finishing packing their rucksacks, the majority of which would be carried by the largest of them. Mance was waiting surprisingly patiently as he sat on a nearby wall, whilst Tormund kept trying to get Ghost to play fetch with various items with little or no success. It was the first time Bruda had seen the direwolf, Tormund explaining to him that the large creature had gone off for a month into the surrounding area during the time Jon was away. He could tell that he was an incredibly intelligent creature but also an imposing one. An extra bit of protection for them all if the worst happened on their trip.
"You know there is no chance of him playing that game with you." Bruda was surprised to hear that voice. Jon approached them, carrying a large bag and wearing a thick cloak, smiling at the frustrated look on the wildling's face. Tormund threw a stick in the general direction of the newcomer but it was easily dodged.
"He'll learn one day," came the gruff reply. "Everyone needs some downtime, even a great fuckin' big monster like him." Jon was too busy scratching the back of the monster's ear to fully take in what the ginger man was saying this time. It had served him well since knowing him to tune him out most of the time. It wasn't as easy though to ignore the stare being sent by the old warlock. Jon looked down in embarrassment, a common occurrence ever since he met him, as he walked over to Bruda.
"Snow," came the short greeting as Bruda raised his eyebrows in question at his arrival. "I thought you were against my reasoning for this expedition. I presumed that meant you would not be joining us."
"I've had some time to think about it and reconsider my previous decision. You've said it plenty of times before. This is war. We can't afford to risk ourselves on the off chance that people we don't know are still alive. It's the harsh reality." Bruda hummed sadly at the realisation. He only wished that someone as young as Jon didn't need to understand such a dreadful concept.
"We will still make sure to go through East Watch. Just on the off chance that a miracle has happened and there are survivors." He winked at Jon as the young man perked up at his words. "I persuaded Mance to direct us through there. He seems to know a lot about the place, as if he targeted it a lot when he was king."
"Thank you," Jon said sincerely. Bruda merely nodded and set off ensuring he was ready for the journey too.
It was at that moment when Daenerys entered the courtyard alone. They had considered the possibility that Stannis would send them off as well since it would be the right thing to do, at least politically. His absence would go a long way in telling his men and Daenerys's where his gratitude lay. She immediately went over to Jorah, enveloping him in a tight hug to act as a lasting memory. She pulled away after a few seconds, sending a small smile to Davos.
"Be careful," she commanded, brokering no argument from either of them.
"We will," Jorah said, trying to placate her. He knew it would probably do no good but it was worth the try. "We're not the ones potentially facing a horde of the undead."
"Don't remind me. I wish none of you were leaving me. Especially with Stannis acting the way he is."
"He can't touch you. You've got plenty of guards. He won't want to go anywhere near a Dothraki." She smirked at his levity. "You don't even need to interact with him at all if you don't want to until we get back. It shouldn't be a long journey."
"It better not be." She cupped his cheek as she bid him farewell. "Come back to me."
"I always do." A response that had so many meanings and feelings behind it. It spoke of his devotion to her. It reminded her of how, even when she had banished him, he had returned to her. It conveyed the love they shared.
She made the quick trip to send off her favourite warlock. He looked lively, probably excited about having an adventure. She needed to bring him back down so that he didn't take any risks on their travels.
"Ah, Daenerys. I just spotted you saying farewell to your knight and was becoming jealous that I was going to miss out on the same treatment." She shook her head but still hugged him, which surprised him a little. He awkwardly patted her back, sending a helpful look to Jon, who simply shrugged his shoulders.
"As if I would forget you." She untangled herself from the older man. "I needed to give you something anyway." He gave her a confused look as she produced a small metal object from somewhere on her person. He looked at it closely and realised that it was a miniature version of his staff but, unlike his actual one, a dragon was wrapped around it. The usual flames that licked the top of his staff had been replaced by the fire of that dragon. It was a deep black in colour but somehow it had been made with a streak of blue and gold running through it. She gently placed it in his hand and covered it with his fingers. "I said I needed to get you a badge. I had one of the metalworkers here take some time off from making dragonglass weapons to commission this for you. I realised that Jorah has been wearing clothes that symbolise his position in my regime but you still didn't have anything. Now you can wear that and people will know how much I value you." She swore that she could see a few unshed tears in his eyes but she made no comment. "You see the different colours? I've been doing what you asked me and looking over our previous conversations. I remember you talking about how the colour of your magic can change. This represents that phenomenon."
"It's magnificent. I...am very grateful, your Grace." It was unusual to hear him refer to her in such a dignified manner. "I shall protect it with my life."
"The whole point of it is to show you that I'd rather you come back to me alive." He chuckled and vowed that he would try his hardest to do so. The gates were drawn open, signalling that it was time for them to leave. They jumped up on to their horses, or in Bruda's case, clambered on and set off, hoping that they would return soon with some positive news.
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Jorah was wondering how the horses were coping with the difficult terrain they were being tasked to face. It was unlike having the King's road to the capital - very few people travelled this way towards the coast which meant that the tracks were in an incredibly poor condition. With winter now looming over them, they were quickly becoming trails of mud and rock. He was glad that he didn't have to walk on this journey but still felt like apologising to his steed.
They had been travelling for a couple of days now and he felt like they were getting close to the small ship that was supposedly waiting for them to carry them to Bear Island. He really hoped that the journey would be worthwhile in the end but an overwhelming sense of unease had settled upon him from the moment this idea was suggested. It had been a long time since he had been anywhere near his ancestral home. He expected it would be quite different now. They would have moved on from the times he had lived there in ways that he felt he might not understand or grasp. It worried him then that any sway he might have in persuading the young Mormont in power was negligible. He was an outcast. He would be looked down upon in all likelihood. He wondered whether this was as great an idea as Daenerys and Stannis thought.
"I know that look." Davos had brought his horse next to Jorah's so that they could ride side by side whilst they talked. "Self-pity. Self-doubt. You're worried about what sort of greeting you'll receive when we arrive."
"I'm not bothered about my own interests. I sacrificed any claim to that when I left Westeros. I'm more concerned that my being there will lessen the chances of us succeeding. It's vital that we get more men before the White Walkers arrive. It's already a probability that we will be outnumbered massively. We have to take any opportunity we can to greaten our chances."
"You're of course correct. But you're forgetting that Bear Island is a small place. The number of men we will be given won't change the course of the battle."
"Then why are we doing this?" Jorah sounded exasperated.
"Because of what you just said. It may not be a lot of people but any help we can get is a positive step in our favour. But you can't waste the time you have left being troubled by the thoughts of others. You have to realise that the people you will see and interact with on the island are no longer your family. You're lucky enough to have forged a new one." There was a sadness in his eyes as he finished his sentence, something that Jorah picked up on straight away.
"You're just as lucky then," he pointed out but Davos just gave a hollow bark of laughter in response.
"I think I'm losing my grasp on a new family, Mormont. Especially with Stannis's warning." The days in between the encounter had allowed Davos the time to examine what had happened, meaning that he was able to talk about it a bit more openly. Jorah saw that as a good sign but he knew the hurt still lingered within his comrade.
"She still cares for you. Stannis has no control over that and can't change that fact."
"He can control whether I get to see her though. And with us getting closer to the war, I feel that the opportunities I have to do so are dwindling."
"You just have to be more tactical then. Stannis isn't able to monitor her all the time, which gives you the chance to see her, if only briefly. I'm sure we can help with that." That idea seemed to cheer Davos up slightly and he sat up a bit straighter.
"I might just do that. But Daenerys will be a bit too preoccupied to help an old soul like me see someone I care about."
"You have to realise that you're a part of our strange family now. She cares about you and would do anything for you. Within reason, of course." Davos smirked at the response.
"Doesn't care for me nearly as much as you, though," he said with a knowing smile. Jorah focused on looking straight ahead instead of at the twinkling pair of eyes next to him. He'd obviously been learning from Bruda. Even when he wasn't around, he was still managing to infuriate him.
"Like you said - I'm very lucky."
"Aye. To find love in times like these is a very special thing. My wife won't know whether I'm dead or alive. Won't comprehend my involvement in a war I hope she never has to learn about it. But I'm content in the knowledge that she is safe and not involved in any of this."
"I wish I could say the same about Daenerys. But she will be in the centre of this and then, if we get through it, we only have another conflict to face. Sometimes I wonder whether we could just walk away from it all. Travel back to Essos and live out our lives there."
"You know more than anyone else that she would never choose to do that. You can't stand in the way of her goals."
Jorah sighed. "I came to that realisation fairly quickly. Doesn't make it any less disconcerting."
"It just means you have to work harder to protect her and to ensure you survive the fight. That's why we're on our way to do what we're doing. Not just to attempt to bolster our numbers but to try and make it as difficult as possible for us to lose. And for that to happen, we have to be unified. Which is why I hope Stannis will come around by the time we get back." Jorah wanted that to happen too but, as they reached the ship resting on the calm water, he knew that they had more important things to worry about for now.
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Similar progress was being made by the other larger group and, luckily for them, their journey was mainly marked out by a long road connecting Winterfell to the Northern outpost. That meant their travels were somewhat more comfortable although Bruda was beginning to grow concerned about the subject of saddle sores. Because of that, he had discreetly conjured up a thin cushion that he could sit on. It had made an immediate improvement, both to his comfort and his overall attitude, and he was thankful that no one had seen him do it. He didn't know whether the others would be jealous and ask for one themselves, which would have been so much effort for the warlock, or mocking of his apparent weakness. He reasoned that, if they did so, he'd demonstrate how wrong they were. They'd definitely need more than a pillow after that.
Ghost, emerging from the thick collection of trees by the side of the road, charged past him, probably smelling some poor animal that would soon be his lunch. The appearance of the direwolf made Bruda's horse grow nervous and he struggled to keep it from bucking up. His mood was worsened when he heard Jon and Tormund laughing behind him. He turned his head sharply and Jon was quick to make his expression more neutral. Tormund, obviously not caring about the wrath of the mage, continued to smile in the face of Bruda's ire. He clenched a fist as he stopped himself from twirling his ginger beard around his neck. It was safe to say that the long journey was making Bruda slightly irritable.
"The horses never grow accustomed to him," Jon pointed out as he brought his horse level with Bruda's. The warlock, attempting to be petty, tried looking as though he hadn't noticed Ghost's sudden arrival. "You did well to stay on your horse." It was worded like a compliment but his tone, with a hint of humour in it, suggested otherwise. Bruda wanted to say that Jon would do well to stay on his horse if he carried on making such remarks. He didn't say that though.
"You forget that I am a Northerner," he reminded the younger man. "And more experienced than you ever will be." Jon laughed at the attempt at a comeback.
"I don't doubt that for one second." He looked at the man riding by his side for a moment with clear curiosity. "You said you're from the North...but where exactly? I've never thought to ask you." Bruda kept his focus on what lay ahead of them as they rode but his expression had saddened at the question.
"It's not here anymore. You might say it was simply a casualty of war." Jon was wishing that he hadn't asked the question now.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Oh don't be. It was a very long time ago. I've moved on, which is a sad enough notion on its own. The kingdom was a volatile place at the time and my home wasn't the only place to crumble in the wake of power-hungry tyrants. You were lucky enough to grow up when a relative peace had settled. But it is a continuous cycle between stability and chaos. That wheel keeps turning so here we are." He smirked but his usual exuberance wasn't there for once.
"But you got out of there in time." Bruda knew that it was an innocent statement but he couldn't shake the feeling of there being an accusatory tone.
"I walked through it after it was left as a pile of steaming rubble. That's when I left. When there was nothing else I could do."
"Is that why you're so adamant on doing this now? To make up for that defeat? There's no real reason why you should be here, I don't think. You left the kingdom behind yet you return with her when it's brought to its knees again."
"Oh Jon. There is every need in the world for me to be here. And you'll see why soon. Don't, for one second, presume that I am here out of a nonsensical sense of pride."
"I never said that."
"You're naive. It's only to be expected since you're so young but I would have thought better of you. Words are just one component of someone's message. You have to delve deep into what their tone tells you."
"Have you ever thought to not talk down to me?" There was a sudden anger and annoyance in his voice that surprised Bruda. This is what he wanted to see.
"I might consider it once you've proven to me that you're worth the while. Currently, I see only a soldier who is bothered with the black and white of war. Who fails to take note of the complexities that surround us." He was making a breakthrough.
"Of course I do!" Jon was properly riled up now.
"Then answer your own question. Why are we partaking on this journey?"
"The Wall. You said that something was important about it."
"Keep going."
"The Night's Watch would have seen straight away if there was something wrong with the Wall. Since we were right next to it."
"Meaning?"
"Whatever is happening to it, or has happened to it, is...going on on the other side of it."
"Or even within it. You got there in the end. I'm not going to be here forever but even when I am, my job isn't to just explain everything to you. You need to be able to work these things out. Although I'll still add parts to the equation. Don't want you to suffer."
"So...all that before. It was to…"
"Make you angry. Make you feel that you didn't require me to tell you what is what. And it worked quite spectacularly. Maybe I'll make some progress with you after all." Bruda patted his horse on the neck, prompting it to pick up its pace as he moved away from the dumbfounded Stark. The warlock wanted him to figure things out on his own and he wondered whether that was a hint to something more personal. He definitely had secrets but what did the mage hide the closest? He continued on his own horse, thinking over this apparent dilemma. East Watch would soon be upon them.
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Bear Island, the home for centuries of the Mormont family, was not a very hospitable place. Freezing temperatures, thick and dark forests and an incredibly rocky terrain made it a difficult second leg to their journey. It hadn't taken long to reach the island on the boat through the Bay of Ice and now they were making their way to the large wooden keep that acted as the main focal point of the island. The horses were left on the beach with one of their men. There would be no way that they'd be able to tackle the steep paths that would direct them to their destination.
It had barely changed in Jorah's viewpoint. It was a relatively poor area, meaning that it would be difficult to bring about any meaningful change. That would be doubly apparent with winter on the way. The people of Bear Island were a strong but stubborn collective. They would much rather suffer than ask for help. Those ideals had been bred into him from a young age but he hoped that his time with Daenerys, and even Bruda, was changing that.
When they had arrived at the scarce shore, they were met by an imposing, large man who said he was there to guide them through the wild landscape. Davos had whispered to Jorah asking whether he was actually there to pick them off one by one. He definitely looked like he could do that. He was a hairy man, you could see that from looking at the little bit of arm that wasn't covered by thick clothing. Luckily for him, Jorah didn't think that he had recognised him. The last thing he needed was to be asked invasive questions by people from his past. Thankfully, he didn't think their guide was a man of many words. The most they had been able to get out of him so far was a series of differently accentuated grunts. He guessed Daenerys had also made him slightly more eloquent and cordial.
Davos pulled back a particularly large tree branch back to reveal the view up ahead. A river, with multiple smaller streams running off it, snaked itself around the rocks. A wooden bridge that didn't seem to be in the best condition connected the two banks and a path on the other side led to the building they were headed for. Compared to Winterfell, and especially Dragonstone, it wasn't as foreboding a place as one might expect. Yet Jorah hadn't expected to be put off by the exterior of the place; what lay inside was the troubling matter to him.
At the large doors, two guards were stood waiting for them with neutral expressions on their faces. They eyed the Unsullied soldiers with thinly veiled suspicion but said nothing as they allowed them entry. Their guide left them at this point with no meaningful farewell apart from another loud grunt. Inside the keep, silence reigned. Their footsteps echoed against the stone corridor as they were led through the dimly lit passage. The two of them shared a worried look as they were made to stop outside another set of doors, two torches either side making it visible to them. Jorah put his hand on it for a moment before pushing it open.
The small room was surprisingly empty. They had expected to be made to a face a council of sorts but they were instead met with the lone figure of a young girl sitting at a long table at the far end of the room. Shields bearing the sigil of House Mormont, the bear, lined the wall alongside lit torches. She stood up as they entered but did not move away from her position. It was a sign of superiority in this situation over them. The doors closed behind them, with the room worryingly absent of their own guards. They continued walking towards the table and, as they got close enough, they knelt on the stone floor in a show of respect. It didn't seem to impress the girl who kept a passive expression on her face.
"My Lords," she began. "I'm hoping the journey wasn't a perilous one." Jorah wondered if the journey was going to the best bit about this task.
"My Lady," Davos spoke up after glancing at his partner. "Our travels went as smoothly as we hoped, in part thanks to the guide you graciously sent us on our arrival. First of all, I must share our gratitude for allowing us to visit you. These are troubling times, as I'm sure you can appreciate, and we fully understand the pressing matters you need to see to in order to keep your island going." You could tell that Davos was a good diplomat from the way he was speaking - Jorah was suitably impressed.
"I don't have time for niceties. Seeing as, how did you put it? I have more pressing matters to attend to. If that's the case, then I am left to wonder why you are taking up part of my time if the situation isn't that serious." Maybe not a good enough diplomat after all.
"We can't downplay how serious the situation we are facing is," Jorah said, speaking for the first time. She eyed him carefully and held out a hand to stop him from talking, which he did straight away.
"You're the Mormont I've been told about. The betrayer of my family. My advisor has mentioned you a lot in his briefings."
"Is your advisor going to be joining us at some point?" Jorah asked, glossing over the accusations she had made. As if on cue, a side door opened suddenly and a slender man walked through, dressed in fine clothes that didn't suit the island he was currently on. He stepped over to the young girl and planted a gentle kiss on her hand.
"I must apologise for my tardiness, Lady Mormont," he said with a smirk, his trimmed beard shifting slightly. Jorah didn't like the look of him at all. He turned to them and gave them a small smile. "I won't make the Lady introduce me, gentlemen. My name is Petyr Baelish."