Midwinter Prompt #8: Pyre (ASOIAF)
Title: Pyre
Author: fifmeister
Prompt: #8, picture of fire
Fandom: ASOIAF
Characters/Pairings: Jorah, hints of Dany/Jorah
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
Summary: As the longest night of his life wears on, Jorah keeps watch.
ETA: Wow, I just realized I chose the exact same title as the fic posted right before mine. Uh, that was unintentional, I swear. *facepalm*
Jorah blinked, raising a hand to shield his face from the stinging smoke. His eyes watered, his throat constricting against the acrid fumes.
The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the dull pain nestling just beneath his breastbone, an ache that intensified each time he remembered Daenerys' lips brushing over his cheek just before she'd stepped into the flames.
Why? he wondered again, one simple question that kept repeating in his thoughts, alongside the mental image of her lithe form swallowed up by heat no human body could withstand. Headstrong, impulsive, youthful foolishness...
Another voice slithered through his thoughts, this one pointed and snide rather than grief-stricken. Impulsive, youthful foolishness, like beggaring yourself for the sake of a queen of love and beauty?
He pushed the thought away. In its place, he saw Daenerys again, her shoulders straight and head held high as the flames swept around her, consuming her.
The hours wore on, and the Dothraki surrounding him dropped into sleep as the fire began to die. Jorah's eyes cleared, his throat loosening as the smoke dissipated, but he found no rest. The ache in his chest remained, taking hold deep within him, festering like the wound that had felled Drogo.
He did not stir until dawn's first rays touched the sky, and he rose on unsteady legs, facing the pyre's center and steeling himself against whatever the future would bring.
No matter what happens now, he thought, weary but resolute as he pushed himself forward, here I stand.
Author: fifmeister
Prompt: #8, picture of fire
Fandom: ASOIAF
Characters/Pairings: Jorah, hints of Dany/Jorah
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
Summary: As the longest night of his life wears on, Jorah keeps watch.
ETA: Wow, I just realized I chose the exact same title as the fic posted right before mine. Uh, that was unintentional, I swear. *facepalm*
Jorah blinked, raising a hand to shield his face from the stinging smoke. His eyes watered, his throat constricting against the acrid fumes.
The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the dull pain nestling just beneath his breastbone, an ache that intensified each time he remembered Daenerys' lips brushing over his cheek just before she'd stepped into the flames.
Why? he wondered again, one simple question that kept repeating in his thoughts, alongside the mental image of her lithe form swallowed up by heat no human body could withstand. Headstrong, impulsive, youthful foolishness...
Another voice slithered through his thoughts, this one pointed and snide rather than grief-stricken. Impulsive, youthful foolishness, like beggaring yourself for the sake of a queen of love and beauty?
He pushed the thought away. In its place, he saw Daenerys again, her shoulders straight and head held high as the flames swept around her, consuming her.
The hours wore on, and the Dothraki surrounding him dropped into sleep as the fire began to die. Jorah's eyes cleared, his throat loosening as the smoke dissipated, but he found no rest. The ache in his chest remained, taking hold deep within him, festering like the wound that had felled Drogo.
He did not stir until dawn's first rays touched the sky, and he rose on unsteady legs, facing the pyre's center and steeling himself against whatever the future would bring.
No matter what happens now, he thought, weary but resolute as he pushed himself forward, here I stand.