and yet here i stand.

Hi! My name is Mercy and you’ve made it to my independent roleplay blog for Jorah Mormont of GoT. I am show based as I haven’t had the proper time to finish the books, but that all said I am more than willing to learn and expand my knowledge when it comes to the novels and your interpretation of characters.

carrd

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The gun for hire stepped into the diner with a weary glance, blue eyes flicking across the building before settling onto a booth he could slip himself into. Once seated he let out a near held breath, shoulders relaxing entirely as if they’d been stiff for hours. He lost himself in a thought after that, mind focused too hard on the last job he’d had and the woes of a man begging for his life after an attempted an attack on his boss. There had been no mercy shown to the man regardless of what he begged for and Jorah had been the one to carry it out. 

The last thing Jorah had expected to find while moving his way through the Free Cities was to a Stark. He had been on his way to Pentos in order to find the Targaryens under the orders of King Robert. Only briefly was he meant to be where he was, but at the sight of the woman he followed her through the market-- curiosity getting the better of him. He, of course, knew who Lyanna was. He’d met her many a times back in Westeros before things unfolded into the war that they did, but the last he’d heard of the woman was that she had passed and was buried beneath the walls of Winterfell. So seeing her within the Free Cities? How couldn’t the knight be curious.

He joined her on the steps of Dragonstone, hand resting on the pommel of his sword and eyes locked with the dragons that were currently flying across the waters. It was magnificent to watch them fly about, magnificent to watch them move and dance through the air without any restraints. They had so much freedom with where they currently were. He almost envied it in some way, but he bit his tongue on trying to explain that. Instead he focused on what troubled his Queen and what drew her out into the cold air rather than staying near the fires burning within the keep. 

“I’ve heard many a stories in my time,” Jorah began from where he sat at the bar, blues flicking to find the man who was sat a barstool over, “but that has to be the strangest one yet.” He grabbed his glass of bourbon from the napkin it rested on, lifting it to take a small drink before settling it back down and speaking again, “And you escaped from this... hell, if you will, to return to your normal life?” 

Jorah glanced to his traveling companion, blue eyes taking in her current state and the tire draw of her gaze. They’d been traveling for days now on their way to Winterfell where Jorah was set to meet with Queen Sansa. He had found Remilia only a few days prior fending herself off from men who thought they could jump a lone traveling woman. There had been little conversation between them since the day and Jorah was fine with it. He didn’t wish to press her to speak. She would when she was ready, but until then he was doing most of the talking that crossed between them. Which is what he was readying himself to do as he straightened on his horse. 

He was quietly moving through the courtyard of Winterfell, having left Daenerys in the care of Jon and Sansa. She had insisted that he see himself elsewhere as it was the only way to get him to part from her side. It felt odd to be in Winterfell without Eddard’s presence looming through it, but then again if he were Jorah’s head would be served on a platter no matter their current situation. Not even his Queen could save him from Ned’s persistence and he’d barely escaped it once before. It was these thoughts that clouded his mind as he stepped across frozen ground, blue eyes flicking from one thing to the next. Eventually his gaze landed on a man who was overseeing the fixing of a wall, frustrations spewing from his lips towards the workers. Jorah stood for a moment where he was before making his way over to stand beside the man, he leaned over and whispered a select few words. The man paled, cleared his throat, and then dismissed himself leaving Jorah with the three carpenters.