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It had been days, and Rhaenar hadn't been able to find Jorah anywhere; she knew he was around, setting up preparations for the Khalasar to move

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It had been days, and Rhaenar hadn't been able to find Jorah anywhere; she knew he was around, setting up preparations for the Khalasar to move. Rhaenar stood above them all, her eyes stormy as she could see horses being gathered, and houses being packed. They would be willing to cross the Sea for her, those few who didn't decide to remain back here, protecting their sacred City.


She let out a breath. Rhaenar would have to return soon, on her own horse to begin to lead the Khalasar away. It would be a long ride, but it would be worth it. Gravel crushed beneath shoes from behind her, her attention drifting to whoever was approaching. She turned, eyeing them. Jorah had stood a considerable distance away, his blue eyes stormy as he watched her.


Rhaenar smiled. "Despite having been banished twice, you seemed to have returned both times. The second time you saved my life." She said softly to him, knowing that she wasn't angry, not anymore. "I can't find the strength to keep you away any longer, Ser Jorah."



Rhae stepped closer, Jorah stepping back. "You must send me away." She frowned, unsure if she heard him right; the distance between them not right. His hand slowly pulled back the cream shirt, holding his arm out to her. Rhaenar knew what it was the moment she clapped eyes on the expanse of scales that ran the length of his arm; fusing into his skin. No matter how much she wanted to soothe him, she couldn't.



"Does it hurt?" She questioned, the indigo flickering up to his face, her brows dented in the centre. He shook his head, not revealing the whole truth. "Is there a cure for it? Can you get better?"



That's what Rhae needed, for Jorah to remain by her side after months away from it. Who else but he to understand her? To guide her through the Lords of Westeros? "I don't know."



She swallowed, nodding; her nose spiking in pain as her eyes threatened to water. She could see his eyes running over the ridges, his finger wanting to brush over it but refusing. "How long until it consumes you?"



"I don't know that either. But I've seen what happens when it goes far enough. I'll end things before that." The severity of it hit her, her eyes darting to his face as she stared at him. This could be the last time that they would see each other, there may be no cure that could help him.


Life couldn't have seemed more bitterly unfair than it did in that second; after having got everything she wanted, and ready to accept Jorah back; his life seemed to be ripped from his grasp.

Winter Rose.Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora