Ser Jorah Mormont

The Targaryens had ruled Westeros for nearly three hundred years by the time Robert's Rebellion had happened. They had gone from the greatest dynasty the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen, into a dynasty that was crippling itself from infighting and paranoia. As Jorah looks at the three dragons, the last three dragons still alive, he thinks to himself that they have been left a hard burden. King Viserys, the eldest of them all, wears the crown as if it is both a blessing and a curse, there are days when Jorah sees brilliance in the King, and there are days when he sees nothing but madness in the King and it makes him sad. Then there is Prince Aemon, angry, bitter, and clever Prince Aemon who could achieve wonders if he put aside his anger for a moment. Then Prince Daenerys, quiet and nothing special. These were the three dragons, and now they were to reclaim their birth right, and he was to go home.

The King was sat nearby, and upon seeing Jorah looking his way asks. "Ser Jorah, tell me something. You did many things before you came into your senses and joined your rightful King. Tell me what did you see and do?"

Jorah bites his tongue for a moment as a sharp reprieve comes to mind, this is not some serving boy, this is his King, and his life depends on the man liking him. So biting back the reprieve, he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, then says. "I served in a variety of capacities in the Free Cities before coming here Your Grace. I first worked as a first sword for a magister in Lys, which was where my wife then decided to leave me." Lynese, the thought of her is a bitter one, if he ever sees her again, he does not know what he would do. "Then I left Lys and joined the Second Sons, where I fought a number of battles for greedy men wishing to extort a profit from the disputed lands. Then the Second Sons went through a change in leadership and I decided to leave with my winnings, and I wandered around Essos."

The King looks at him intrigued, really, if Jorah thinks about it, the King is reasonably bright, he must be to have taught his siblings the common tongue, High Valyrian and a bit of their own history, all the while being on the run. It is a shame that his smartness does not outweigh the madness eating his soul. "And what did you find during your time wandering around Essos, Ser Jorah?" the King asks intrigued.

Jorah hesitates a moment, he remembers very well what he learned during his time wandering the eastern continent, but there are some things that one never mentions again, and there was the promise he had made. "I learned that the Essosi are a folk who take great pleasure in feeling as if they are better than everyone else, but when it comes down to it, they want the same things that everyone wants."

"And what might that be?" the King asks.

"Food, money and someone to love them. They just want it in a different order." Jorah responds.

The King nods, and then with some fury says. "The Essosi think they are superior to us, because they sit in manses, whilst we sit in castles. I remember meeting some pompous cunt who told me that I was a dragon, but one without teeth, because my castle was not worth as much as his manse." There is a fire in the King's eyes, and Jorah can feel nervousness growing in him. "The man did not live long." The King continues gleefully. "I do not accept being talked down by some Essosi fucker. I am a King, and I will be addressed as such."

"Of course Your Grace." Jorah replies bluntly, though inside, he finds himself wondering what sort of hell he's gotten himself into.

"Now tell me Ser, you have spoken of many things, but what do you know of Westeros? What do you know of the usurper?" the King asks, his eyes alight with fire and hunger.

Jorah looks around then says. "The Usurper is slowly alienating his supporters Your Grace. The Lannisters grown in power and force the King's own brothers into the shadows. Rumour has it that Jon Arryn and the usurper quarrelled about Lannister favouritism long before anything came of the small rebellions the usurper faced."

"Rebellions?" the King asks. "What rebellions?"

Scrambling now, Jorah replies quickly. "They were minor revolts, led by lords who had grown disaffected with the power the Lannisters held at court. There were whispers that these rebellions were directed by Lord Arryn. As a means of showing the usurper that his power was not as strong as he thought it was, and that to rely solely on one house was no good thing. The Lannisters are reviled within the realm at large for the role they played during the sacking of King's Landing."

The King nods with savage approval. "As rightly they should be. And what of the Starks, what do you think of them?"

Jorah hesitates here, old loyalty warring with a new born desire for revenge against Ned Stark. He knows more about that man, then he would like to know, he also knows some of the man's darkest secrets, and yet he cannot tell the King them. "Stark is a man who does what he thinks is right, that does not make him any less of a traitor Your Grace." He replies cautiously.

"When I am King, I will give you the north if you so desire. Even if it means I need to see half of the north dead, and the Starks wiped out. I shall give you the north and Winterfell as well. I will need a loyal man there to hold it for me." The King replies grandly.

Unsettled by this Jorah says softly. "The Starks are the north Your Grace, you will need them there."

"I will not deal with traitors." The King responds heatedly.

Sensing that this will go nowhere, Jorah merely bows his head and murmurs. "Of course Your Grace." With that they fall silent and watch the entertainment the Dothraki have put on for them, though Jorah does not fail to note the way Prince Aemon plays with his dagger as he looks at Khal Drogo.