Sweet Sister

Chapter 4

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For hours Rhae rode alongside Ser Jorah, listening to his stories about the history of Westeros, and he listening to her.

"My favourite stories are the ones about the King of Seas," Rhae gushed.

"He was a good man," Ser Jorah starts, "we sailed together once. I never met a man who handled a three masted ship as easily as Byrron of the Sea did."

Rhae's eyes grow to the size of saucers, "You met him?!"

Ser Jorah nods, smiling at the excitement that's etched across her face. "His sister was just a remarkable sailer as he. She could best any one in combat," there was a sad smile on his face that Rhae failed to notice.

"It's sad that they both met their fates," Rhae said, saddened.

Ser Jorah agreed, and continued his storytelling. From knights to kings; to mythical creatures and dragons.

"So you're saying Giants and these 'Children of the Forest' used to inhabit all of Westeros, before the First Men?" Rhae asked, looking at the knight.

"That's what many of the Northmen believe, yes," he glances at her.

"What do the people in the South believe?" she pointed to the south.

"Some of them believe that, too. But not as much as the Northmen. The Southerners believe that Giants and the Children of the Forest are stories made up by an Old Maester for children," Ser Jorah answered.

"What about the First men?"

Ser Jorah flickers his eyes to Rhae, "What about them?"

"Where did they come from?"

The old Westerosi sighs, "No one really knows, but most of the Maester's believe they came from Essos." Ser Jorah turned his attention back to what lays ahead of him.

"What of the Dothraki?" Rhae thought of the question after setting her sights on one of the bloodriders nearby.

"What about them?"

"When did they believe the First Men came?"

"When did they believe the First Man came?"

"Well .  .  ." he takes a deep breathe before continuing, " .  .  . the Dothraki believe the first man came into being a thousand years ago, even when the written histories of other continuous civilizations stretch back five, six thousand years."

"And what do you believe, Ser Jorah?" Rhae asked, earning a shocked look from the man. Before he could respond, a voice broke through their conversation, followed by hoofbeats.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Rhae turns her head. Viserys slows his horse next to hers, and she averts her eyes to the sand before speaking. "I was just talking with Ser Jorah .  .  ." she said meekly.

"Not anymore you're not. Come on," Viserys demanded. Rhae glanced up at her brother, who's looking at the knight, before she's looking back down again.