#jqrah

[ JEWELRY ]  your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine,such as a necklace, or earrings.

his      touch      is      one      that      is      gentle,     protective     and      above      all      else      welcomed.     feather-light      as      calloused      digits      sweep      over      usually,      warm      to      the      touch      flesh,      and      eyes     study      him      in      the      mirror      she’s      seated      before.     hands      pull      silver      hair      aside      to     expose     𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯,      𝔲𝔫𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡      𝔰𝔩𝔬𝔭𝔢     𝔬𝔣      𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨     𝔞𝔫𝔡      𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰.      ❛      𝒚𝒐𝒖      𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍       𝒎𝒆,       𝒎𝒚      𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕      𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓.      ❜      voice     akin     to     a      light,     genuinely     grateful     whisper.

nonetheless,      daenerys      allows      him      this           stays      seated      until      𝚝𝚑𝚎      𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎      𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍      𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗     𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎      𝚒𝚜      𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍      𝚒𝚗     𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎,      and      now      sits      ‘pon      her      chest.     such      a      gentle      hand      for      a      bear,      (      but      she      is      encompassed      in      his      protective      arms.     )      like      a      cub.      she      is      a      dragon,      fearsome      &&      unruly,      yet      he     remains      at      her      side,      fealty       hers.      hands      reach      to      raise      and      lay      a      kiss      to      his      palm.      ❛     thank      you,      jorah.     for      always      standing      with      me.      ❜

text memes // accepting

     In her arms she carries heavy tomes filled with stories of the others and dragons. of the long night and the last hero. SOON - if she survives - she may be able to write her own story. of the battle of winterfell and the great war. She knows her ways around the corridors of Winterfell like the back of her hand .. she could do it with her eyes closed. as she closes in on the door to her chambers she see’s a blurred shape out of her left eye. she turns her head quickly and freezes as she looks upon a long lost - but familiar figure. her jaw clenches and eyes - one green one white shift to the handle of her door. 

    Jon had told her of his arrival by the Targaryens side. she’d been able to avoid him so far. she’d busied herself training herself and the smallfolk. talking to the builders about their defenses she’d distanced herself from Jon in recent days. she felt the dragon queens hold on him tightening, he was entranced by her. Jory was WARY. she was wary of most, but her even more so.  her gaze draws back to Jorah. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him.. she was .. ten? eleven? she’d blocked out a good portion of that time. it was too RAW. it had been the day before he fled Westeros and Eddard Stark’s blade. 

            @jqrah     ☆      YOUR MUSES INFO IN MY MUSES PHONE

NAME :

          jorah the explorer

RINGTONE :

          ♪ THE BEAR NECESSITIES ♪   —   THE JUNGLE BOOK OST

PICTURE :

LAST TEXT RECEIVED :

          [ sms  ➠  little bear ]     lyanna, where are you?

LAST TEXT SENT :

* 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙴𝚂 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 : 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽

                 he chuckled at jorah mormont’s question . it was only natural for people to wonder what had happened to the piper’s foot . the rest of his body seemed intact , his clothes were clean and his nails pristine . how could a man like him now have a foot with only A COUPLE OF TOES peeking out of his sandal ? long fingers curled the end of his dark mustache thoughtfully . ufran did not lie very often . sometimes , yes , for the sake of making a good story a GREAT ONE , he would gladly sacrifice some fact or another . but when it came to his tale , the dornishman preferred to be careful . he could tell the man sitting before him that he had lost his toes in combat . could make up some HONORABLE CAUSE that would make this amputation all the more romantic . or he could make himself to seem stronger than he was by claiming that a disease had tried to take him away from this world only to be unsuccessful  ( couldn’t even get a taste of my whole foot , he had claimed before ) . but reality was that a famished jackal had chewed on his foot when he was a boy . and his older sisters had fought the beast away from him and he had cried for many nights against their bosoms … only to abandon them years later . those brave thick haired girls , blood of his blood , now mere memories lost to the dunes .

            dark brown eyes gazed upon jorah’s face . HE LOOKED DISTINGUISHED . despite the hair missing atop of his head and the wrinkles spreading across his brow , something in ser mormont made it very clear that he was a man with plenty of dignity to spare . he was beautiful in his own way . would be a shame to have someone like him think any less of THE PIPER OF VAITH . his lips curled . and the hand that had been toying with his mustache reached for the bowl of olives sitting between them .   ❛     oh , as most things in life do , ser .   ❜      ufran casually announced . he could still sometimes hear the jackal’s growls when he went to bed at night . the piper popped the olive into his mouth and cheerfully replied : 

* 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

                         Over and over again Ser Mormont’s arm came and left Clegane’s field of vision . He had tried to keep his stare on the vast white landscape before them . Tried to keep his mind somewhere else , away from the bandages being wrapped around his neck ; how the fuck had he gotten here ? How had he , of all people , ended up following this group of sad fuckers out there , beyond the wall ? Clegane had no gods beckoning him out into the wilderness , no KNIGHT’S HONOR to keep …  Why was he out here risking his life for Stark’s bastard and his crew of merry men ? Jorah wrapped another layer around Clegane’s thick neck . Why had he put himself in a blade’s way if it had been meant for Mormont’s skull alone ? All questions he did not have answers for or that , perhaps , he thought better not to dwell on . Sandor would later blame his new scar on slow reflexes ( he’s not used to the cold , the furs over his back stiffen his movements ) rather than admit to anything THAT MAY BE ACTUALLY REAL . And what was real was that there was a sense of comradery there . Something strange and alien to the dog that had only been awakened due to the DIRE CONDITIONS they all travelled in . Trust between them was required if they were to survive . Proximity if they were to keep warm . And selflessness if they were to battle together against the dead . The side of Clegane’s neck had seen better days ; a horrible gash had been left there by a White Walker’s sword . It had not been a fatal blow , but it had been quick enough to cut through the flesh . It had been sewed back up by the hands of the VERY SAME OBLIVIOUS IDIOT Sandor had stuck his neck out for ;  literally . 

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

           The words which were spoken applied a slow but steady pressure over The Hound’s chest . He had refused to join the others by the fire , claiming he’d much rather stay out there and freeze his balls off rather than be locked in a room listening to everyone’s whining . But in his search for solitude he had found Ser Jorah Mormont . Or rather , he had found him . It was hard for a man of his size and distinguished appearance to remain hidden . He didn’t bother to greet the man . They weren’t obligated to any courtesies up there ; the dead were marching towards Winterfell . Every man , woman and child would get themselves killed following the empty promises of rulers who CLAIMED TO BE HONORABLE . Sandor had scoffed at the thought … What did honor and dignity matter now ? Jorah Mormont had plenty of honor to spare it seemed   ━━   WOULD IT SHIELD HIM FROM THE WAR TO COME ? 

              When Mormont spoke he spoke slowly . He was a man who was used to being heard . But each word that rolled off his tongue only seemed to provoke Sandor . The man wrinkled his nose in what could only be described as disgust as he turned his head to glare at Jorah . The spirals of his scarred skin now became visible under the flickering light provided by the night torches . HE LOOKED MONSTROUS .     “    The fuck is wrong with you ?    ”    Clegane demanded , the extent of his annoyance much more noticeable in his tone . I KNOW YOU TOO WELL , he said , READ YOU TOO PERFECTLY , he said ! Seven Hells , you fight by a man’s side once and suddenly he thinks you’re blood brothers . Sandor had no use for family . Especially not now that the world was ending . Caring about others’ would get Jorah killed come the morning . Men who made concepts like family their priorities rather than THEMSELVES were usually the first to go .  Clegane wouldn’t let himself get dragged down by anyone else’s sentimentalism .   “   Keep your cock sucking for your bloody queen .    ”    The Hound growled . He turned his face away from the smaller man .