#bearvalor

Would Sansa admit that Jorah Mormont was currently a prisoner in Winterfell? No, she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to feel like a Lannister, but the truth was, he was a prisoner. While Daenerys, would fight that she is the queen and that she must release Jorah, his crimes were from before she was over here, before he’d returned. He’d been part of the slave trade and if she chose to associate with him, well that was her fault. But the fact was Jorah had run away and never paid for his crimes. He had to now, when he was better that is. 

Walking down the hall after recieving a message from the dragon queen saying she’d not allow Jon to return until she gave Jorah back, she sighed deeply and headed for Jorah’s room. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she knew she was annoyed that Daenerys was trying to get involved in the politics of the North. He’d fled for a reason and it wasn’t for something petty. 

( @bearvalor​ wrote ||: “If you’d just leave me alone, that’d be great.” )

For a moment he swayed on his feet, debating if he probably should just leave him alone or if he should stay, sort of trying to determine the best outcome while still being on the move. In the end, he moved forward towards the older knight where he stood on the battlements. It was dark, especially here in the north, and Jaime had spent many a night by this man’s bedside and now that he was finally awake and about, he didn’t want for him to be alone too much or too wrapped up in any thoughts about having been left behind. He needed a friend, and so did Jaime in this cold forsaken place. 

@bearvalor​ said: ‘ i guess being lonely fits me . ’

almost, he pretends he does not hear. almost pretends that his words are meant for someone else, only there’s no one close enough to involve. lips press together, and for a moment he looks as though he’s considering what to say. he isn’t, he knows it’ll be something snarky. won’t struggle to come up with it, either. but for a moment he does consider, not his words but the other’s. wonders what compels a man to be so open. so admitting. wonders how transient or lasting such a thought might be. and wonders why the hell jorah thinks that he’s the one to tell this to.

sandor brings his tankard to his lips and drinks from it without haste. puts it back down and sighs before finally speaking.   “   aye, well if it fits you so well, what the fuck are you bothering me for?  ”   a raised eyebrow follows.

( @bearvalor​ wrote ||: "WATCH OUT!" :)! )

It was utter chaos, the battleground a deep dark massive blur of motion, cries, yelling, screaming, living, dead, steel and fire. The air wasn’t just smelling of mud and winter, it smelled like blood, fire, flesh and death. But there was no time to get distracted or he would become one of them the living horror with their glowing blue eyes, pale skin and gaunt haunting looks about them. He didn't want that, he didn’t want that for anyone and that’s why he fought among the living still.

Suddenly he felt himself being pulled, throwing him off balance which made him stumble like a fucking green boy and almost faceplant straight into a firm plated chest. He gritted his teeth and looked up, about to scold whoever was acting stupid to stop and concentrate on stabbing the walkers and not pulling on the living. His eyes met a familiar face and his words died on his lips in surprise. Never in his life would he think that Ser Jorah would ever care to save the likes of him. Before he was able to say anything he spotted movement over the man’s shoulder and it was his turn to turn them both around and extend his arm to pierce through the head of the dead. Had his golden hand been a real hand he was pretty sure he’d be grabbing on tight to the Bear’s side at this point. 

﹝ ♚ ﹞ ⸻⸻   THEY’RE BROKEN . once upon a time , even just his smile in her direction was enough to fill her heart . when she was a child and free , all expenses taken care of by her father . needing nothing but his love to sustain her . but that was then , and this was now ; and his home was a far cry from the comforts she had grown with . cold and wet and poor . everything she had never been and couldn’t bear the idea of ever being comfortable with it .

❛ i know . ❜ she whispers , wishing beyond anything that she could say something more to soothe him . pretend that she wasn’t finding herself growing disgusted by him . only seeing the flaws instead of the champion he had been . ❛ i know , bear * . ❜

there’s a hand to take his , thumb running over the rough calluses caused by his efforts to fulfill her desires . before she’s looking away from him , tears already springing to her eyes . what a wife she was . not even a full year into their marriage and already she wanted to leave him .

❛ do you remember the night i first kissed you ? ❜