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Daenerys had assured Missandei that she was free to leave whenever she wished to return to Naath and that she would be provided with ship and supplies. The same was said to all those who had followed her here from Essos. Several Dothraki had even returned to the Great Grass Sea. So why then, was he denied permission to go for a visit? Why the bloody hell did he even need permission when no one else had? There were no pressing concerns, all he did every day was stand two steps behind Daenerys while she refused to look at him yet insisted that he be her primary guard.
He stood up, bowed low without a word and let his Queen walk away wondering how they had come to this point. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that he had not done anything to cause this mess. If no one else, Grey Worm, who hovered by the window, muttering something about shift changes, would have told him.
“Go on Torgo Nudho. I will give you instructions later in the evening, right now I need to pack my clothes.”
“As you wish Jorah the Andal.” He moved to leave, but turned around at the door.
“You will write?”
Jorah nodded. “Aye. To you I will.”
He went about his packing, not that he owned much, and decided that he would not be taking his golden armor with him. it wasn't suited to the cold anyway. As he packed, making sure to brush out the sole fur cloak he owned, he felt his anger fade and be replaced by a heaviness of heart.
Somehow the trip felt both like a betrayal and a much-needed reprieve. He now lived in the White Tower of the Queensguard but it felt worse than the black cells underneath the Red Keep.
He wasn’t breaking his vows was he? It was just a short trip; he would be back soon enough. And Grey Worm would serve well as a guard until then.
Though, Daenerys might not agree if her vehement refusal (that made very little sense if you asked him), was anything to go by. Perhaps she might decide that she no longer wanted him to serve her while he was away, especially after his little display that morning. It would be better if he were already on the far side of the realm when that happened. It would save him the pain and humiliation of being banished again.
And staying here, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take one step without second guessing himself. It was exhausting. He hadn’t exaggerated when he’d shouted at her, he was bloody tired. Not just of tip-toeing around her, wondering which line he had crossed this time, but of everything.
It had been so long since he’d felt at peace. Truly relaxed instead of planning his next move. The past decade, ever since his exile had been one war after another. Now that the Seven Kingdoms were at peace, and spring had taken root, didn’t he deserve a break?
If no one else, at least Lyanna thought so.
The wars have ended and spring has come at last. It is times like these when visits to one’s family are in order. I trust cousin, that you remember the way to our Island.
Her letter was short and to the point like her, but it conveyed the sentiment well enough. Our island. Even after everything, he would be welcomed back should he chose to go. She had said as much the last time they had spoken face to face when parting at the gates of Winterfell, her with two men to return to Mormont Keep to recover, him for one final battle along with the Bear Islanders she entrusted to his command.
“Stand strong cousin. We will meet again, assuming of course, you remember the way back home.”
He closed and secured his bags, dropping them at the foot of his bed. He toed off his boots and lay down on the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes, and tried to picture in his mind the path that went from the island’s natural harbor to along the twin waterfalls finally ending at the hillside where Mormont Keep stood.
He couldn’t.
It had been so long, the memories he treasured were all blurred. He rolled onto his side.
How could I have forgotten?
He breathed deeply, hoping to dislodge whatever had been stuck in his throat, He needed to go back there, to his roots, at least for some time. He needed to go home.
But for now, he had work to do. He got out of bed and washed his face before taking his sword and going to the training yard to leave instructions for his absence.
Tyrion made his way downstairs, wanting to have a word with Mormont before he left. He had already exchanged plenty of harsh words with their Queen. It would be best if he avoided her for some time.
“You are being unreasonable!”
“Well according to you Tyrion, I am always unreasonable!”
Tyrion fumed, as did Daenerys, so far Tyrion had refused to get in the middle of the bear and his maiden fair, but now the peace of the Small Council depended on it.
“Not always. But often, especially when things do not go your way.”
“How dare you!”
“How dare I? How dare you treat your most loyal advisor like that?”
At his words she glared then turned her back to him, but he continued, not noticing that Missandei had slipped into the room.
“I told you, that he is devoted to you. He has proven it time and again, that is not something anyone can deny. When the battle was over, and some soldiers said that they had seen you fall off your dragon everyone assumed that you had been killed. But instead we found you without a cut on you all because of Jorah Mormont. He deserves your respect for that, and he was not wrong to demand dignity from you. Like everyone else, he wants a break. Don’t you see he’s tired from all the fighting? He’s not asking to be released from his vows, nor does he say that he will reclaim his Lordship even though they asked him to.”
That got her attention, “Who asked him for what?”
Tyrion was surprised that she didn’t know. “The Bear Islanders that marched with the Northern Army. They wanted him to return with them. He’s once more a hero in the Northerner’s eyes. The fact that he’s on your council is why Lady Sansa did not insist on a Northern representative in court. You might know him only from Essos, but he has lived an entire life here.”
Her anger had faded, replaced by a thoughtfulness. Tyrion took advantage of that.
“Lyanna Mormont was the first to give support to Jon Snow, she declared him King and everyone else fell in line. They are a small house, but a proud one, and command plenty of respect despite not having their seat on the mainland. That little girl, is also the one Sansa trusts the most outside her siblings. Politically speaking, keeping her happy will keep Lady Sansa and by consequence the rest of the North happy. If Lady Mormont wants her cousin to come for a visit, then you should encourage said cousin to grant her wish instead of being stubborn.”
Missandei finally stepped forward and entered the conversation.
She took Daenerys’s hand and squeezed gently, “It is a small request made by a thirteen-year-old child. What harm will come if Ser Jorah should acquiesce? The sky will not fall if he goes away for a month or so. He showed me the raven scroll, it just says that now that spring is here, the time is ideal to visit family. There are no demands attached, no secret schemes, so what is the reason for being so stubborn?”
“He wants to leave.” She mumbled quietly.
“If anything, it will be beneficial for all. He’s been too tightly strung these days, were he another man I might have dragged him to a brothel to relax.”
Daenerys shot him a dark look, “What have I said about those places?”
“A man has needs.”
“Then a man should find himself a wife.”
“An excellent idea. I’m sure there are plenty women who would want to marry your Lord Commander, dour as he is. It might even brighten his mood.”
That was arguably the most brazen thing Tyrion had ever done in his lifetime. For a moment, he thought that Daenerys would turn into Drogon and burn him to crisp right then and there.
He was saved by Missandei.
“That is not for either of you two to decide, nor is it the matter at hand.” She gave them both an unamused look.
Tyrion nodded, “Right. Now for the sake of political stability, as a gesture of goodwill, allow Ser Jorah to visit Lady Mormont.”
Daenerys did give Mormont permission to leave when he wished that very hour, but the mere fact that what was in essence a small personal request had required such great debate and persuasion did not sit well with Tyrion. Mostly because he knew if it had been anyone else, say himself who had requested to go to Casterly Rock for some time, their Queen would not have even blinked before agreeing.
He found the subject of his thoughts in the training yard sitting with Grey Worm, deep in conversation about which guards were best suited to protect the Queen.
“Mormont, Grey Worm.” He greeted them both, they silently nodded back to him. “I was hoping to have a word alone with you before you left.”
Mormont nodded, looking very tired, and said to Grey Worm, “Let me know in the morning if there are any problems.”
“As you command.” With that, Grey Worm took his leave.
Tyrion led Mormont to an empty chamber near the garden. He closed the door after him and gestured for the man to sit. He sank down into the chair without so much as a glower. This would certainly make my task easier, thought Tyrion, tired men were far more willing to agree just for the sake of ending the conversation.
“I will not waste any time and get straight to the point. The path you take, I want you to sail to White Harbor and from there ride on the Kingsroad to Winterfell where you will stay for at least one night.”
Mormont frowned, “Any particular reason? This isn’t some official visit.” He paused, “You aren’t turning this into an official visit are you?”
“No, nothing like that. I just want you to stop by and give Lady Sansa her Grace’s regards. And mine. Consider it more of a friendly visit, something to let her know we see her as allies. Although do send a raven if there is anything that might concern us.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Give your dear cousin my best wishes, and feel free to order some fruits or the like as gifts for her. I will personally have them delivered to Bear Island. Oh, and be sure to enjoy your vacation. I wouldn’t mind seeing you smile once in a while.”
With that, Tyrion swaggered out of the room, leaving behind one very confused Knight.