Yesterday had been the first day that young, beautiful Daenerys had stood up to her brother who he had rightly called less than the shadow of a snake. Viserys had struck his young sister and, as a result, Daenerys humiliated him by forcing him to walking to the back of the khalasar, much to the amusement of the entire the entire horde of horse-riders.
Now they were riding again, northwards after having left the forest of Qohor. Jorah rode alongside Daenerys.
"Ser Jorah, Irri says that we are nearing the Lost Land, what is it?"
Superstition is what it was, but he answered, "The Lost Land is a place rumoured to have disappeared during the Age of Valyria. One day people found that they could not travel near the coast anymore. They would find themselves veering away from the coast when they tried to follow it. Ships would lose all their speed when nearing it, or they would also find themselves turning away. Or at least that is what rumour says."
Irri objected, "It is not rumour, it is real."
Jhiqui affirmed, "It is known."
Jorah shrugged, the Dothraki would not set foot in the "poison-water" and not many other peoples ventured into the Dothraki Sea. The stories of the Lost Land were mere rumour and nothing else.
"Princess, do you know why we ride north? I thought we were going to Vaes Dothrak, it lies to the south and east."
"My lord husband says he and his bloodriders spotted a great stallion galloping northwards. They wish to follow it, it may be a sign of their god."
Jorah nodded and they continued riding. Up ahead he the khal had halted. When he came close, he saw why. It was indeed greater than any horse he had seen before, standing at over two dozen hands high. The stallion stood in front of an old man, dressed in blue holding a long staff.
The air shimmered between the two of them. The stallion reared and brought its hooves down towards the old man, only to be deflected at the last second. The man struck the ground with his staff, forcing the horse back.
A gasp came from behind him, "It is a sign. The man fights the gods."
"It is known."
Jorah sighed looking at the the handmaiden's comments, "Princess, it is a man struggling with his wayward horse. A magnificent horse, but a horse nonetheless."
But Daenerys was enraptured.
The old man had been brought to his knees, struggling against the horse which began to attack him. The man struck out with his staff, forcing the beast back. The horse in turn kicked at the man knocking him down.
"I may have been wrong about that horse, it is not just wayward, it is mad."
The old man locked eyes with the young Princess, and struck the ground once more, pulling himself up and throwing down the horse. Then he froze, a blade emerging from his chest. The air flashed, and then shimmered once more, but fainter.
The man who struck him down tried to cross the shimmering barrier, only to be pushed back. An eagle cried in the air. Startled, the man mounted the stallion and galloped away.
Then everyone sprung into action, Daenerys rushed to the old man with Jorah close behind. The old man was dead when Jorah arrived, and Daenerys had tears in her eyes. "What's wrong? We never knew the man."
She looked up, "You did not see it?"
"He was not just a man, he appeared both regal and noble. When I looked him in the eye, I saw the people he fought to defend."
"Defend from what? The mad horse?"
"It was not a mad horse, it was a demon. Did you not see how shadows came from it to attack the shining light of the man?"
Jorah kneeled beside her, "Princess, Khaleesi, you are not well. There were no shadows nor light, just a man who fought a mad horse and was killed by one of the khalasar."
Daenerys's eyes began to tear once more, "He spoke to me, he told me that we must not let the khalasar near here, the Lost Land was hidden for a reason."
Jorah put a hand to her hand, "You have a fever Princess. You must rest." He would need to write to Varys soon, between this strange event and Daenerys's sickness in the mornings and this abrupt moodswing, he suspected that she was with child.
Her handmaiden's began to tend to her, "Khaleesi, the man was silent he did not speak."
She looked into Jorah's eyes, "He spoke within my head Ser Jorah."
"That is dark magic."
"It is known."
Jorah signaled to the handmaidens to care for her, "If you wish, I will look into this to assure you that nothing is wrong."
Jorah mounted his horse, "I will meet you at Vaes Dothrak in two moons time."
He saw Daenerys being carried to her tent where her fever would be treated, and went to the shimmering air. He tentatively touched it and, feeling only a mild feeling unease, passed through it.
He rode northwards for the rest of that day and did not reach the coast as he had thought he would. Neither had he reached it on the second day. It was not until the end of the week that he finally saw the coast and alongside it, a city.
Jorah gazed in wonder at the city. It was a built in an inlet, with many ships docked all around it. The city was large, only a little smaller than Lannisport. But the city's fortress rivalled Casterly Rock, the castle guarding Lannisport. The construction indeed appeared to be beyond anything in Essos, maybe even matching Winterfell.
He camped outside the city, reluctant to go into a place that had been hidden from the world for so many centuries. He did walk into the small villages that lay outside the city, hoping to learn what he could of the city.
Jorah entered a tavern, noting the strange looks that were cast his way. The smallfolk here were not small, they stood tall, most being nearly at least half a foot taller than he. One of the men approached him and spoke.
Surprisingly, he spoke the Common Tongue, "How is it that a northman finds himself down in Umbar?"
Jorah stood facing the man."I come from the south."
The other man crossed his arms, "South of here is a jungle populated only with kin of the Haradrim, and you aren't speaking their tongue, nor do you have their dark skin."
"I came to the south of here from across the sea."
The man began to crack his knuckles, "So the half-breed Eldacar is hoping to attack us from the South?"
Jorah realized that he was in a room of hostile people for an unknown reason. "I'm sorry Ser, I know not who this Eldacar is, I came from Westeros, across the Shivering Sea."
The man appeared confused, "Shivering Sea, the only Sea hereabouts is the Belegaer."
"In Westeros we call it the Shivering Sea."
"Westeros? You mean to tell me that you come from another land?"
Jorah sighed, "Aye, the Seven Kingdoms? Iron Throne? Do you not know of the most powerful realm around?"
The man's eyes flashed, "Gondor is the greatest realm." His eyes widened in realization, "Sit down, drink with us, tell us of your home and we'll tell you of ours. What do you call yourself?"
"Jorah Mormont. And your name?"
"Elumir, son of Castamir."
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.