middaeg | [open] feb catch-all

[ going from city-living for the last several months to learning to live on the land again is as jarring as one might expect — for most, anyway. Jorah had personally found an affinity with coming out of the walls of Aefenglom for sometime now, so Daenerys' choice of relocating the two of them to something more rural and distant did not find much contention from him. sure, he feared it might be less safe than the city once upon a time, but if she was able to be snatched up under the watch of the city guard and him already? anything was worth a try.

he's still very much concerned with his queen's healing, both physically and mentally, but he has more than enough work cut out for him. compared to finding odd jobs to scrounge up money and basic guard duty for Dany, one would even say he wasn't ready for the labor waiting for him. even a successful farm had plenty to do, let alone one that was suffering and in desperate need for care and attention. it's good that he was beginning to regain all of the energy he had lost the last few months.

Jorah was focused on work outside of the warm on this particular morning. dawn, in fact, just as the sun was beginning to peak through the sky. it was the best time to hunt rabbit back in Essos, and he hardly doubts that would be different here. his plan was to spend the morning setting traps throughout the woods, fish near one of the nearby rivers midday, and end the evening hunting deer as they flock out to the fields while the sun began to set.

this leaves plenty of room to find cowboy Jorah if you care to do so. perhaps you have the misfortune of walking over one of the makeshift traps he had just spent thirty minutes making, or maybe you join him in his fishing shenanigans — don't worry, he brought a second rod and enough bait to run two lines if need be. he managed to work in a bow for his evening hunting as well, so hopefully he doesn't mistake you for a deer. ]

[ Outside of the city is where Arthur feels the most at home. It's always been that way, and adding in magic and monsters hasn't changed that, even with the threat of a magic plague. It just means he can't go as far out into the wilderness as he would like, which- isn't great, but at least there's some wild. At least it means civilization makes sense here, isn't just a taming of the wilderness for the sake of it.

The bow and arrows had been the first things Arthur had picked up with his payment from his job repairing the outside of the Inkchanted building. Being able to hunt would keep him alive, and it's not just meat for himself. The first few kills he had brought back to a butcher in town, been taught to look for signs of Cwyld infection inside the meat, depending on species; in birds and deer and rodents, in fish and in rabbits. Now he could bring back whatever he could carry and sell what he didn't need to keep for himself, whether it was the meat or blood or bone or furs and skins. He kept the feathers from the birds more often than not; anything that a collector didn't want, he could use to make more arrows.

He's after pheasant today, specifically, but Arthur will hunt what he can find. Nothing too big, without anything but himself to take it back into the city with - he's spotted plenty of deer prints from overnight and sighed softly to himself, leaving them alone for other hunters. Otherwise he's walked, looking for a good place to hunker down and wait, a mug of coffee with a warming rune on it attached to his belt and a leather pouch with jerky for the waiting. He has no illusions that he may be out here for quite a while.

It looks, though, like a lot of the good spots to possibly wait have already been taken up... by traps. He starts to follow the tracks leading from one to the next instead, and eventually he manages to catch up to Jorah, clearing his throat. ]

You gonna leave some of the small game for the rest of us? [ He sounds amused, at least for now, but good God, man. ]

[ hunting is a skill one had to pick up and learn living on Bear Island, regardless if your family was the head House or not. when he wasn't out at sea or on the mainland fighting battles for other families, he was doing his part to bring meat and pelts back to villages to help keep families warm and fed. that being said, women were known to be the proficient ones at it, given that they had the time to develop. Jorah managed to get by, but as Arthur would come to learn, it was through quantity and not quality.

in his defense, he didn't expect to find much competition. perhaps that was an oversight on his part, but he is still trying to learn the lay of the land. imagine his surprise when he is greeted by a voice with a deeper, gruff timbre than that of his own.

he had been perched on the remnants of a dead tree, the bark still thick enough to support his weight with no concern. in his hand was his hunting knife, the other an apple, slicing away at the tart fruit and eating away at it idly as he enjoyed the scenery. Jorah cants his head over his shoulder to look at the other man, brows clearly perked up in surprise. it takes him a moment to even realize what his question was about, but before long, he lets out a soft laugh. ]

In theory, you could remember to come back. If you get to it before I do, you just found yourself labor-free food or income.

[ There's a little chuckle from Arthur in response. He isn't looking for a fight, not really; not if the other man doesn't want to give him one. ]

Not a fan of game that's been in traps, if we're bein' honest. Fear makes it taste different.

[ Fear made a lot of things different.

Arthur makes a gesture toward the quiver and bow at his back. ]

I don't mind tracking 'em, or waiting for 'em to come to me. Might catch something bigger, too. Kinda like how you never know what'll be waitin' for you in those traps, except I don't have to shoot whatever wanders across my path. Whatever's in your traps - that you gotta deal with either way, I expect.

[ He chuckles again - but he's not laughing at Jorah, nor really trying to impart advice. ]

Met more than one feller in my time who got his own leg stuck in his own bear trap, too.

True enough. Were I out here faring for myself, I may have the patience. But if I hope to feed more than two or three people, sometimes you must deal with food tainted with fear.

[ he can appreciate the argument. traps aren't exactly the humane way of dealing with sustainability. one may even say there is irony in how he was walking these same woods as a bear not too long ago. Jorah wasn't relishing in the thought of any prey's last few minutes or hours of its life, spontaneous hunter-cowboy appearing to make him doubt himself or otherwise. some things just have to be done. ]

Perhaps our mutual target avoided my trap only to find itself on the other end of your arrow. It is all a numbers game. Mine is just less controlled than yours. Better odds for the prey, one may say.

[ crunch. the apple is take from the blade of his knife into his mouth to chew on, and he'll finally turn his body to look at the other man fully. ]

Now that I would hope to avoid. Good thing you look to know your way. I would also hate to be the reason you have a new hole in your foot.

If you wanna feed more than two or three people, you ought to dream bigger than rabbits, [ Arthur advises, tilting his head curiously. He knows what it's like to try and feed a family - though his family had been a gang of outlaws, most of them not blood related at all. But they had been a family all the same, until- well, until. ]

Not sure there's a lot of traps for deer, but...

[ Well. He gestures at the bow on his back, an eyebrow raised slightly.

And then he laughs. ]

Yeah. Wouldn't be all that happy if I ended up in one of your traps, even if it were my own damn fault. These woods are different from the ones back home, what with the magic critters and all, but... similar enough.

[ they didn't mention it was unsafe to live outside Aefenglom as a means of keeping you in the city, apparently. Jorah knew that from being out of the walls more often than not, but that didn't stop Daenerys from wanting to move. even old Edre Bern insisted that the khaleesi should know that her farmlands weren't immune to the lovely company that Shades decide to provide every now and again.

tonight would be one of those nights. it's a big enough piece of land for things to take place where they would be oblivious to it all until come morning, but there's no hiding the sound of a handful of horses getting startled and stampeding out of the barn house. Jorah was quick to wake, get dressed and grab his sword with a lit torch. he was not gentle in his demanding Dany remain inside — sorry Dany — and was outside as soon as possible. maybe you are a guest of his or Dany's (prior CR), or perhaps you stayed overnight after finding work the day or days before. either way, Jorah is less hesitant to invite others to follow, because he knows what was likely in the barn.

time to fight a Shade. ding, ding, ding. round one begin.

alternatively, the morning after will be just as eventful. sleepless Jorah will need help finding the horses that ran amok, so he'll be out on his own horse looking for them to lasso and herd back to the farm. please help a guy out. he's good at a lot, but one man horse-wrangling is not fun. ]

[ between all of the busy days out in the fields and woods, Jorah does try to find time to make it into the city when he can. you can find him at various points and days doing a variety of things:

(a) as expected, he escorts Daenerys to and from Council meetings now that she has filled in for a position in that regard. other Council members might run into him before or after the meetings have passed, or anyone that knows Jorah will certainly pick him out by his now-standard-issued beard and armor as he performs guard duty that the city guard undoubtedly dislikes him for.

(b) he will also be making routine visits to where the Dorchacht refugees are still housed at, in particular the Faun child he had saved from the fire with Eren some months ago. cured meats from hunting, vegetables and other various goods are dropped off. he'll sometimes get roped into doing some routine maintenance for them, patching up parts of their homes or even help prepping meals with the same things he had brought over.

(c) in terms of quests, he had made the oh-so-wise decision of signing up for the speed dating at the brothel. it isn't his most prideful money-making decision, but he can't rely on his khaleesi's reparations to sustain himself. so... yes. he speed dates! —or pretends to, anyway. there's plenty to be found here, from the actual speed dating event itself if you want to pretend to flirt with him for a while to Jorah eventually getting tangled up in politely involving himself in a fight that broke out nearby a table. or if you're really (un?)lucky, there's an awkward exchange where one of the workers showed up late and thought he and his speed-dating partner might be privy to a. ahem. threesome.

yeah. reply at your own risk. ]

Oh.

[Caren hadn't been sure what to expect. Not really. Things always seemed to change every time she was seeing the refugees, partially because she never knew who would be around. She hadn't realized that Jorah would be here on the same day as she was.

Then again, it wasn't as if they knew each others schedules. She'd been directed here with her large package of vegetables and various dishes she had made for the refugees to what she supposed was the closest kitchen. And there was Jorah...poised over potatoes? It looked like potatoes.

Her cloth covered tail swished behind her, bemused at what she was seeing.]

This certainly is a surprise.

[No sign of the anger from before, just a mild interest and curiosity. At least she wasn't the resentful type.]

[ the voice was familiar enough to pull his attention away from the — yes, she guessed it — potatoes he was cleaning and prepping. it was just as foreign as it was familiar, however. maybe it was because it was less scolding or fiery? who knows! admittedly, the mood is much lighter than it was before. ]

Ah. La— Caren. A pleasure to see you again.

[ right. no lady. he won't make that mistake again. Jorah goes to wipe his hands clean, and he takes a moment to awkwardly look at his own wrists as if he was debating on offering to greet her with a shake. he opts to avoid that, feeling caution might work better for him than to offer physical contact. ]

We must have been missing each other this entire time. I surely would have picked you out before now. Do you make this a regular visit?

[It was a soft voice, if a confident one. But she moves to set her donations down, out of Jorah's way.]

You remembered. Good.

[She approves. Usually it takes more then once to tell someone not to do something.]

Sadly, not as often as I could or should. But then, I've been busy in the former Black City, teaching domestic skills there.

You've been here on a regular basis then?

[She takes a moment to fuss over her gloves. It was a good move to avoid contact. She wasn't one to offer it casually on a good day.]

[ Jorah was taking one of those trips of his to the city in hopes of delivering an assortment of goods to the Dorchacht refugees. he sometimes has a habit of taking the scenic route, and even though he was technically on a time limit thanks to a variety of meats stored away in his supplies, he just can't help himself! the River Temese was relaxing to walk along, and considering the burden on his and many other Mirrorbound's minds as of late, it was beneficial to lose his train of thought to the downstream of water.

he'll take some time to look around every now and again; people (or monster) watching could sometimes find him more distracted than he meant to be. it was always in passing, eyes lingering on one person for a half a minute or less. only when he sees someone that comes off as familiar does he allow himself the chance to focus on them for longer.

one in particular provided him a great deal of temporary anxiety, if only because they just familiar enough to make him rack his brain for any possible memories they could be placed in. a woman and her larger-than-average dog, once again found near a river and minding their own business. Jorah himself cannot recall any direction interactions with the pair, but... then again, he wasn't quite himself. a heavy sigh follows when he realizes where he might know them from. well, this was awkward.

while he should leave things be and mind his own business, curiosity gets the better of him. he has to know for sure. whatever Gwen and her lovely dog friend might be doing on this particular day, hopefully they will allow his sudden interruption. he announces his appearance with a clearing of his throat, an open hand in the air to offer a greeting when their eyes meet. ]

I apologize for bothering you. My face... I do not think it is familiar to you, but yours is to me. At least somewhat, anyway.

Edited 2020-02-09 22:15 (UTC)

( she's about to say something polite like you aren't bothering me (or halfway polite, since she'd probably have finished that sentence with yet), and then he carries on and she's a little bemused when she says— )

Is it?

( which is at least an answer for whether or not she finds him at all familiar as a man and not a bloody great bear. she looks like she's seen better days in the interim, and given recent events he probably doesn't need a picture drawn for him of why her wrists might be scarred or her clothes hang looser on her frame; her features were already sharp and exaggerated (skin that had been blue-hued then is a milkier pearl now, rainbows where she catches the light and her oversized, starry-slit black eyes still hard to read), making their gauntness a little harder to gauge, but the way that putin hovers nearer to her and more attentively speaks for itself.

so, too, does how well-trained his manner seems. he doesn't get in her way, but he's between her and jorah; he isn't close enough to make it hard for her to walk, but he's close to her, could herd her easily if he needed to. this is his job. it's why he's here at all.

—she might not recognize jorah, but it's evident from the way that putin relaxes when he gets closer, sniffing the air and then thumping his tail affably, that the dog does. sup buddy. you're smaller, that's weird. )

Have we, uh, met?

Edited 2020-02-11 08:57 (UTC)

[ such a question presents discomfort, and it is visible in Jorah's face shortly after asking. who introduces themselves in such a way? some would think he's trying to come onto them, as if it was some shoddy pick-up line. others, especially Mirrorbound, may be especially on-guard about being approached like this so suddenly. good thing it's in the middle of the day and in public, because further inspection leads him to believe she was one of those affected.

this could go south quickly. ]

I... believe so. You will hopefully forgive me. I am processing it as we speak.

[ his brows are furrowed, and it is clear he is in deep thought. he almost looks right through her and towards the water behind her as he traces his memories, compiling all he can remember when he was roaming the Wilde as a bear. the friendly canine is the glue that begins to help everything stick, and without even thinking, the knight takes a knee so he can grow more level with Putin's face and snout. ]

And this fellow is familiar to me as well. It is all very confusing. Almost as if the two of you were in a dream of mine. —May I?

[ he doesn't presume he could pet the dog without permission. from both of them, mind you. it seemed like a rather mutual symbiotic relationship they had going. ]

( this is one of the weirder conversations she's had, and it's competing with conversations that took place in another world entirely, not just this one. it isn't unpleasant, though—he isn't unpleasant, and she doesn't feel unsafe, so while uncertainty lingers in her expression, she seems willing to take the cue of putin's ease and let it ease her, too.

besides. anyone who wants to be friendly to her enormous dog immediately earns themselves some points. even self-proclaimed dog people are sometimes a little hesitant of this dog, particularly, and even if that's sort of the point of a guard dog...

well, she protects him more here than he does her. )

Yeah, ( on a slight delay. ) Just let him, uh—or don't, okay, ( the instruction she was about to give lost in a gurgling laugh as putin butts his head gently forward into jorah's shoulder. ) I was going to say you should let him smell you, but apparently he's feeling the vibe.

This is, um, Putin Onaritz. And I'm Gwenaëlle.

You will have to remind me again as to why it has taken us this long to do this, khaleesi.

[ that could be taken a lot of ways out of context, but fortunately for this family-friendly catch-all, both Jorah and Daenerys are fully dressed. he's opted for no armor this morning, mind you — perhaps not the wisest of decisions when thinking of the inexperience in who else is holding sharp steel — but he is still very much clothed! hooray for decency.

he stands before his queen in the privacy of one of their barn houses, deciding that there was enough foot room for them to traverse while also ensuring Daenerys felt secure. that was paramount above all else; he was not going to allow a repeat of her kidnapping to happen again, and he also wanted to do anything he could to help her heal. Jorah isn't sure of how successful this might be, but finally helping her learn to defend herself made more sense than not. the sense of urgency in protecting her has been renewed, but he isn't a fool. he can't be there for her always. ]

I know you have many weapons to choose from. They all suit your frame and stature, so decide on what you feel is most comfortable in your hand and we will then begin.

Because I had an army behind me, ser. I had dragons. I had a fortress to retreat to.

[ Jorah had been at her side through acquiring almost all of those prior to where they stand now. She does demand him keep his vow to serve her, one part out of her birthright and his devotion and one part out of her own loneliness in this world where she is not Queen. So serve he does. Daenerys knew she would need to defend herself if the time comes to fight back – he was one man, just as she was one woman. ]

You give such good council to me, my most trusted... it is time you teach me other things.

[ She speaks with fondness, if not a little spitfire. The tension between them was still... there, the issues presently with healing still there – but she allows him this moment with her. She trusts him with her life, she trusts him in nearly everything.

She thinks about the weaponry she had been gifted or the kind Jorah wield – she lifts up the arakh that was crafted for her by Hiccup. It brings sentimentality, fondness – but also bitterness. A reminder of the people she left behind and the life she had lost when Drogo died. The fleeting moment washes over her and instead of mourning, she looks to Jorah. ]

I wish for this. While there is no intent to become a bloodrider, I wish to learn to fight as the best Khals did – so I can be better than them at protecting my life.

Aye, you did. I seem to recall at least one of your dragons leaving you to be picked up by an army of roaming dothraki, however.

[ he says this as if it's humorous, but really, Jorah is close to scolding her. she should have learned proper self-defense years ago, when she was a budding khaleesi that had Westerosi spies looking to put her through an early demise. not... naming any names or anything. it's his fault as much as it was hers. he was stubborn enough to believe he would be her sword and shield at all times, and if all else failed, she had the aforementioned army and dragons.

they learned the hard way how wrong they were. Jorah and Daenerys have plenty to keep them busy on this new farmland she has relocated them to, but they will find time to help her feel comfortable with protecting herself. he will ensure she doesn't have to rely on the newfound dragon in her to do so. fire has been her savior more than he has, but there will be a time where neither alone could keep her alive. ]

Oh? But you already know so much. I believe they call you Daenerys the Wise in some corners of the world.

[ now he's trying to be humorous, if not the faintest bit of... —flirtation, was it?— in his voice. tension is certainly thick enough to cut in half with the weapons they have in their hands, but he sttrives to keep things light. it's all he can do in times like this. ]

A wise choice. Just... avoid my face when you swing. I have enough reminders of how sharp those are.

[ she's seen the scar on his throat. painful memories surround that, both for him and her, but he hopes they don't focus on it for long. just enjoy him being dry and witty for a change. ]

What can you recall about how they fight? Do you remember how they hold the arakh, their posture? Think back on it as hard as you can.

...Drogon had always been a free spirit, not heeding the words of those wiser than him. [ Wonder where he got it from!!! Either way, he may scold and tease her but it was true. Daenerys had been fortunate enough to amass an army to keep her safe – now, she must work with her only Queensguard to keep surviving here.

The farmlands will never be home. Aefenglom will never be home. This world will never be home. Deep down, she wonders when they return to Westeros... will that be home? The fear lingers in her heart, but she doesn't dwell on it. Burying it under more important matters. Jorah may be flirting and trying to entice her reaction – but she smirks in return. ] Oh? Which corners? Perhaps we shall venture there and lay claim as well.

[ The weight of the curved sickle does feel different – it feels as if she was unworthy to wield it. If Drogo used such a thing, if his bloodriders did – she must as well. A khaleesi in such a state is an odd one, but one killed is sadder. ]

They prefer horseback, swinging slices. They fight in wild movements, not calculative like a Westerosi knight.

[ She misses one crucial thing: they are ruthless and they adapt well. ]

[ Jorah opts to just smile and offer a nod to her first words. he wasn't about to say how familiar that sounded. he's poked at her enough for one day, and he doesn't feel comfortable pushing that fact further into her face after his own recent failures. if her own decisions and choices turned her into a prisoner, they may have had a more stern conversation, but Daenerys was picked for her Mirrorbound status and nothing more. this world caused pain and trauma to her. their own world did the same, but at least they could equate it to consequences of decisions made with her on the throne.

—somewhat, anyway. her status as a Targaryen had its own curse. unfortunate how some things just never change. ]

Let us claim our crops and cattle first. We will not stop at the arakh. We shall make a farmer out of you yet.

[ the hope is that this is all temporary. they haven't given up on that yet, no matter how permanent this was all beginning to feel. still, they might as well hope to try and find some peace. spending hours tending to a farm sounded ideal for a man his age, but Dany... it'll take time to see how she ends up enjoying all of this. ]

That is right. And they fight with their emotions ever-present. Every strike is with the hope they kill. If you ever have to use this on someone other than myself, that is what you must think. You have to be prepared for that.

[ she's put an end to many people, but it has always been at the end of an order or through fire. would she be ready to see the life leave someone's eyes? Jorah wants to help her be ready. to accept that it never gets easier, that it never stops affecting you. ]

What a thought. A Targaryen farmer. It sounds as ridiculous as a Lannister milkmaid.

[ She can tease too, of course, even if her nose scrunches up at the thought. They had to make idle chit-chat, transition from Knight and Queen to sparring partners. To teacher and student. It is no secret Daenerys is impulsive, but she slows her breathing down and focuses her attention enough to try and not get ahead of herself. As Jorah speaks, she listens. ]

Always? Is there ever a time where I should not? I do not take killing lightly...

[ Says Season 7 Daenerys Targaryen. ]

Maybe not as ridiculous. There is at least some respect to working the lands. Milkmaids... I am afraid they do not see much love.

[ picturing any of them under a cow surely brought a look of great amusement on his face for a moment, though. he isn't a petty man, nor does he hold grudges on opposing families ever since coming to grips with the Starks' exile of him, but hey. anything to help them feel better about being a Targaryen nothing right about now, yeah?

the idle chitchat helps them forget about many problems, both outside of their relationship and very much to do with recent developments between them. if he wants to help her actually learn self-defense, she needs a clear mind. he needs a clear mind. hopefully they can strive to make that a reality. ]

Nor should you. But you are known to show mercy as much as you are not. A bit of a... wildcard in that regard, as far as a Targaryen goes. As much as I appreciate its existence, you cannot let the goodness of your heart ever distract you. That is all.

[ Jorah steps forward, sword raised into the air with one hand while the other moves to cover his stomach. ]

Make your first move against me. Consider your footwork. Do not leave yourself open.

They have their role, but such a thing with the names given to us feel... a bit underwhelming.

[ Idle chit-chat was rare between these two. He had been such a support system for her during her ascension to the khaleesi and Queen of Slaver's Bay that destiny wrote for her. They bicker, they inspire, they answer – together something like this feels foreign and she finds herself stumbling through words a bit more cautiously. They had become closer in a sense but still divided. His wants, her needs – his needs, her wants... where did it begin? For now, she made it clear what she needed: to protect herself, even if she was poor at it. ]

...I am known for many things, but unfortunately they are not feasible. [ An army, a trio of dragons so large they'd blot out the sun – she sounds frustrated. But, he continues speaking and she calms the anger that spikes like a hot ember reaching up to the sky. ] My good heart is something others do not need to see readily, I've come to start believing...

[ It was as if she was slipping off course, that thin coin-flip between sanity and madness. Justified anger and burning hatred. He speaks to have her raise her weapon to him and she figures it is best to move on. There's no anger to Jorah, perhaps she will apologize readily for how temperamental she had been since they arrived... helpless to the farmlands.

But, now? She offers a few careful but agonizingly slow and controlled footsteps to him. Her palms feel wet with sweat as she raises her curved blade, albeit not entirely keen on raising it to him – she takes a swipe, purposefully aimed wrongly. ]

[ enough time has passed since Daenerys has made Jorah aware of her gift to him — a set of new armor bearing his family's crest as opposed to the House Targaryen he has sworn to protect. the gesture meant more to him than she likely knew, which makes it all the more shameful and embarrassing for him to wait as long as he did to meet the armorer that would be making it. with the chaos of the last few months, surely no one was worrying about something as minute as new armor if his original set was doing fine.

sure, it was beginning to rust and rub in areas that didn't need rubbing, but no big deal!

it was also high time he met the man that had also made something for his queen in the past. screening Percival is probably redundant and far too late, so simply getting to know more about him should suffice. cue the present. whether that's a fixed forge in the city or somewhere better for fitting since it was already made, Jorah reached out to schedule a time to meet. he'll knock on the door of the establishment and await to be called in. ]

[ Out beyond the wall as it is, the forge doesn't get too much traffic, though that slowly seems to be changing. Still, it makes it an easy place for these sorts of appointments, and he hadn't hesitated to give the location when asked. He'd been asked to make a gift of this, and apparently it's finally time to do so.

He gives the man on the other side a slightly searching look as he opens the door, but Percy's had manners drilled into him too long to be anything but polite. ]

Good afternoon. Jorah Mormont, I take it?

Good day to you as well.

[ Jorah offers a pleasant enough smile himself, though he knows he isn't the best at appearing friendly, especially to those he would consider a stranger. Percy is a bit of an exception, however, what with his extended history with the khaleesi and all. is he really a stranger? technicalities. ]

That I am. And you must be Percival. A long overdue pleasure to finally meet you, ser.

[ He nods once in return, moving to the side so that Jorah can step in. The forge isn't much to look at, a working space though at least relatively neat. There are a few projects that look to be in process, but as Percy shuts the door behind him, he leads them over to the far wall, away from the main forge. ]

And you. Did Daenerys mention that this is just a fitting? I haven't put the final piece together yet.

[ Not without making sure that everything sits the way it should. But he gestures towards the plain leather breastplate laid out on one of the tables. ]

[ forges are always an interesting sight to see when Jorah has the chance. he hasn't had the opportunity to make his own armor, and while he often enjoys picking up new things to learn, he figures he is too far past the point of making an adequate skill out of it. he will choose to simply admire the equipment from afar, even basking in the immediate warmth it provides to its nearby inhabitants as he steps inside upon being invited in. ]

Aye. And take as much time as you may need once the fitting is done. I hope our need for armor lessens after prior events.

[ he knows the drill, though. he's put on armor as often as he has with plainclothes, and regardless of how new or unshaped it might be, it all worked the same. Jorah wastes little time in moving to pickup the equipment, weighing it in his hands for a moment before beginning to slip it on from over his head. ]

Fortunately for us, I do not have to ask for you to pretend to be my squire and help me dress myself. Gods, I hope that day never comes.

[ Percy's eyebrows lift a little in a kind of complicated amusement. Needing someone for assistance with armor sounds like the least of anyone's worries, but he's never been a knight. Still, he lets the man settle himself without interfering, though Percy does lean back to watch the process with careful attention. Where things fit, where they don't, where something in danger of pressing in too far. ]

I find it's always better to be prepared, need or not.

[ Then again, Percy is also a noted cynic. Judging by the person who requested this armor made in the first place, he may not be the only one. ]

How protective are you hoping it will be? It will never be full plate, obviously, but up to that I can make adjustments.

[ ah, the Sly Seadog. what a guilty pleasure you have been for Jorah over the months. he doesn't try to make it a habit to visit often; such a trend would surely look poorly on him. when he does, though, he ensures he makes it worth his time. that was when he lived in the city. now? he feels less ashamed about taking a stop for an ale or three when he is unsure on the next time he'll be traveling within the walls.

the knight's armor clangs as he makes his way further into the bar, taking a seat at a table near the back. he takes a moment to gather his bearings, steel vambraces removed to allow him some comfort while he hopes to rely on the wonders of alcohol for a little while. at the first sign of someone seemingly employed, he'll politely wave in an attempt to grab their attention. that means you, Ms. Alex! say hello to this old bear, because he's offering a warm smile before his voice speaks out, as low and quiet as he can considering the excitement inside the tavern. ]

Good evening, miss. May I trouble you for an ale when you have a moment?

[ if and when Alex leaves, she'll notice him playing with the signet squeezing his right ring finger, a habit he usually has when he begins to grow idle. hmmmmm. ]

[ As infrequent as his visits might be, it was difficult to forget (or not notice) a literal knight in armor. Alex may not know his name, but he was a familiar face. There had always be an air about him that kept her wary, sticking to only going as far as dropping off his orders to him. Maybe it was judgmental of her, but he just seemed like an authoritative presence, someone she should best keep a low profile around.

Which is why it surprises her, to see such a kind smile on his face when he stops her. Her words catch in her throat for a moment, but she eventually nods and returns the smile, albeit somewhat awkward.y ]

Ah--Yes, of course.

[ She starts to step away, her eyes darting to the corner as she catches a glimpse of a shine from his hand. But just as quickly she shakes off the creeping temptation to focus on her work.

It takes a moment to serve the other food she had in hand, but she eventually managed to get the drink he requested. It was quite busy tonight, and as most busy nights, bustling and loud. Some were already quite a few drinks in and not as steady. They start playfully pushing each other around, till one trips and knocks right into Jorah's table.

That startles Alex, but before she can head over to see how they are, she catches sight of that twinkle again, rolling towards her till it hits the tip of her shoe. Lowering herself down, she picks up the ring from the ground, and after a silent moment of deliberation, pockets it. There was something that just felt so right holding it in her hand.

But, she does still approach the armored man, helping him with the table and anything else that might have fallen. ]

Are you alright..?

[ he has learned many things in his long-lived life, and patience was a skill he had forced himself to improve upon for a multitude of reasons. if there is a delay in him getting his drink, he understands. servers have the toughest job of all at times, having to force a smile on their face while providing for customers that were normally lost in their own excitement and cared little for the person on the other side of the glass. most dwellers of taverns were shitty enough whilst sober, let alone once alcohol pumped through their veins.

—so it is of little surprise when one of them manage to somehow make the distance to Jorah's table and make a mess of things. no amount of patience would help replace the look of frustration on his face as he helps the drunkard up. the pungent stain of alcohol on his breath as he mumbled something about his table being in the way was distracting enough. between that and the general hustle and bustle of the hole in the wall and he has no clue his hand was lighter than before.

he is none the wiser to the disappearance when Alex reappears, and he quickly replaces narrowed eyes with a warmer expression, hands moving to dust and wipe excess fluids off of his clothes and limbs. ]

Yes, yes. Thank you for the concern. I am afraid to admit I am used to seeing how poor some people are at holding their liquor.

[ he sits himself back down and is about to accept his drink when he finally notices something missing. Jorah inspects his fingers before glancing at the table and eventually the floor. well, that's a concern. ]

Hm. On second thought, I believe I misplaced something. Have you seen a ring? Rather unique-looking, for better or worse. Heavy enough to dent your floor, too.

[ A heaviness that she feels weighing in her pocket and on her conscience. ]

Not..not that I've noticed...I'm sorry.

[ Oh, what a horrible taste that left in her mouth. But was she really sorry?]

Someone may have kicked it--I could look around?

[ It felt like the hole she made for herself was only getting deeper. ]

[ Jorah wouldn't be good at his job if he didn't know how to pick up on deceit or misdirection. people often lied whether they meant to or not. most of the time it wasn't with ill intent. he was more curious than anything, and it might be obvious how he chooses his words wisely while his eyes clearly roam over her figure. ]

Oh, no. You do enough around here, miss. I am sure it will show up eventually. Don't you?

[ he offers her another smile, all while taking the ale she had made for him to his lips to sip on. the glass is set down before he stands. if she's worried he might approach, he instead moves to pull a stool out while a hand extends itself towards it. ]

Would you join me? Maybe rest your feet for a moment or two. If anyone asks, we can just say you are charming me for a modest tip.

[ It was like another stab to the heart to hear him be so hopeful, but that greedy, selfish part of her resisted against her conscience.

Her foot does skid an inch back when he stands, a reflexive reaction, but she blinks one, two, three times, when he offers her a seat instead. ]

I--

[ Her eyes flick back and forth between him and the rest of the tavern, as if she were grasping for some kind of excuse to go. But the ring kept her anchored on the spot, his kindness despite his loss reeling her in.

Quietly, she takes the seat, both hands on her lap as she looks over at him again. ]

I..don't think I'm very good at being a conversation partner.

[ Jorah wasn't particularly eager about returning to Dorchacht. it was one thing to leave Daenerys to Mhysadei in order to return to the city for a few hours or even stay overnight if need be, but to take the trek out there again? let's just say it took much convincing from his khaleesi to give him the impression that he was safe to take on the quest that would take them out into the Wilde of Dorchacht again. her stipulation was that he wouldn't be looking for some mystical pond on his own.

hopefully Eren didn't require much begging. he was young, energetic even with all of that brooding he tends to do. a soldier knew how to pack their bags and be on the move for miles upon miles, so he seemed like the obvious choice. they both set a day to meet up in Dorchacht with appropriate supplies, and just like that, they're off. time to look for a needle in a haystack. ]

I am beginning to see why they are relying on Aefenglom to assist with this. This is going to turn into a number's game before long... hope you are ready for a long walk, friend.

[ and deny miss dany? especially not when he was going over to dorchacht himself! eren has dawned new armor type clothing on the way out, bags on his back and flares at his hips. a long walk, indeed— ]

Makes me wonder why they don’t use horses. [ that goes for aefenglom as well— an expedition without horses, or any kind of transportation felt like a step backwards, didn’t it? then again— they know their terrain better than anyone. they adopted the flare system, which was both a surprise and a helpful aid he was glad to give. with it, they might even be able to track if the pool’s locations were actually random.

so, with armor clanking against each other when he lifts his talons to ball into a fist and nudge the man’s shoulder: ]

Maybe you should give them some advice, with the shape you’re in.

[ he says it genuinely and innocently, but underneath the face of a dutiful young man is deception in the form of a joke. old man. ]

[ hey, Jorah has new armor too! probably. we'll go ahead and assume Percy finished making the set that Daenerys has gifted him, so he'll be adorned in his... decidedly-more-bulky-but-traditional set of steel bearing the House Mormont sigil. it isn't quite as appealing as Eren, but at least it has a bear? besides, he probably wouldn't look nearly as good in the pseudo-BDSM attire. that's all you, booboo. ]

Aye. Our relocation outside the walls has come with much change, but I will forever be grateful of having an excuse to ride horseback every now and again.

[ he's already beginning to miss the way his body rocks with his equine partner's trot or gallop. many lands and many miles have been seen on horseback, but now isn't the time to complain. not when he's being insulted. how rude! ]

I have recovered nicely, young Eren. Thank you for your concern. [ a dismissive handwave, all while hoping he doesn't accidentally roll his shoulder in the process. wouldn't that be poor timing. ] As... problematic as these transitions have been, it has not been all bad. It feels as if I stored energy up from the last few months. Now it is just begging to be let out.

[ it was an amiable insult. it’s been a long time since he’s ridden a horse, perhaps a year or some more, but one never tends to forget how to work reigns and work your weight with such a hardworking creature. now, eren wonders— he wonders if he’s even fit to ride a horse anymore. would it be afraid of him? would he start salivating if he were hungry?

maybe he doesn’t need one after all. the good thing, at least: he’s starting to smell moisture. the water they’re looking for, perhaps? ]

Can you shift willingly, yet?

[ beasts riding fellow beasts. surely that's an interesting visual to consider. as if Eren has anything to worry about with traversal. if he ever had reason to leave old Jorah on his lonesome, he could take flight and try to scout out the location they were looking for from the skies.

—or he could just pick up on the scent of it and set them on the right track so soon. how fortunate. no wonder Eren was always on journeys like this. ]

No. Not yet. That or I have not... tried to shift willingly. The one time was enough to last me for sometime. Fearful of how it would happen the next time. When it will happen.

[ ah. that’s a worry. even while leading them along eren hardly takes his eyes off jorah, only to push and hold stray branches that hang too low. ]

I’ve heard turnskins could get forgetful on full moons. [ to which, he understands the problem, if not just the outright danger of lacking lucidity. if the smell of humidity wasn’t another sign, perhaps the sudden sound of water is. ] I’d say a witch bond would help you, but I know it isn’t so simple.

[ monster bonds are alright, eren has one himself. but it could be difficult to find the right witch, especially when you just can’t find a compatible match. ]

There’re . . . Other ways.

[ ones that come with their own dangers and should be paved, but alternatives all the same. ]

[open] feb catch-all

be vewy vewy quiet. i'm hunting wabbits (ota)

ugh sorry about the wait, having to refigure out my schedule for tagging 8(

i made you wait as penance... jk i'm slow so no worries at all

lmaoo <3

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horse and shade wranglin' (ota)

city shenanigans (ota)

B

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— gwen.

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blows the dust off HI I'M SORRY

— dany.

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— percy.

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— alex.

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— eren.

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