Just the Facts

J. Mormont - freelance journalist, formerly of the London Times [part of Answer the Call - An ASOIAF AU RP]

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OOC

Hey all - sorry for lagging on stuff this week! I've been sick...but I'm back...Will catch up on mod stuff this weekend.

I'm also available to talk about plots and things, if anyone has any ideas or wants to discuss ideas and such. :) 

I'm going to be out of town starting Tuesday through Saturday or Sunday for the holiday, but I should still be around online, though obviously not as much...

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lordmormont replied to your post: [OOC]

THAT WOULD BE AMAZING. Maybe Cat and Ned have come to Bear Hall before, to visit Jorah / because idk they were in bfn Scotland, and they met/connected then?

That sounds good to me (if it sounds good to Ned)!  A Ned and Jorah connection might also be useful *shrugs*, just something to think about.

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Yes - sorry, I thought you saw the post where Ned and I discussed Ned-Jorah past.  Basically what we determined was that Jeor and Rickard were military friends, and Jorah spent a couple of summers in his youth at Winter Hall.  So that would be why Ned and Cat might visit Bear Hall if they were perhaps already in Scotland.

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galbartglover:

“I… never knew about that.” Galbart muttered, almost to himself.   And it was little wonder; he’d been a small child back then, too young and far too busy running around and constantly fighting with Dacey to understand what was going on in his grown-up sister’s life. Only many, many years later had he started to understand how much she must have suffered: and yet in his memories she was always there, smiling sweetly at her little brother, seemingly without a care in this world. Now, as an adult, Galbart often felt like he’d never known his older sister at all, never really known her, and the thought hurt him more than he could tell. Robett barely remembered Erena at all, and their mother never talked about her in public. Over time, somehow, the Mormonts had become Galbart’s only link to his late sister.   “But you’re right, I don’t think she would have liked it here. Living here, I mean. She was a daughter of Deepwood, Erena. She wasn’t made for the big city.” he added, with a sad smile, turning to look at the endless traffic of carriages and cars just outside of the window as the car pulled to a stop right in front of the inn where he’d booked a room. He didn’t protest as Jorah made to pay for the taxi; but then, after helping the driver unload his luggage, he offered a smile to his companion as he gingerly dragged his suitcase towards the inn’s small set of stairs. “I hope you’ll at least let me offer you lunch?”

"She was that," Jorah said softly.  Then he turned to Galbart, his countenance weary and added, "She kept me grounded.  Reminded me of what was important.  And when she went..."

He thought of Lynesse, of those reckless years, of the publisher's daughter, of the way he'd turned his back on his family for the sake of his own pride, and it nearly sickened him with shame.

"...part of me--that sensible part--just--"  Went with her. He couldn't finish the thought.

He watched as Galbart dealt with his luggage.

“I hope you’ll at least let me offer you lunch?”

Jorah offered a small smile. "Yes, please."

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OOC: So, Scottish men wear kilts.  WWI Jorah.  Needs to have some occasion to wear a kilt to.  Like now.  So what I'm saying is, I agree with Alyssa - we need a fancy party in the near future that everyone can mingle at. And that Jorah can wear a kilt to. :D

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OOC: Robert's Rebellion RP

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miss-reed:

Gentlemen, I know this group here is fierce and epic and is taking over some of our RP lives. Yet, remember we had another one which was also fierce and epic? We can’t just forget about the RR, poor dudes over there think the group is dead.

As I've said before: The problem seems to be that we still have not reached Harrenhal over there - I think we were waiting for Laurel on that...not sure if we should continue to do so or just...arrive...If we go with "let's continue to wait on arriving," my suggestion would be that various traveling parties can combine / more people can interact the closer we get there....That's my thought, anyway.

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galbartglover:

Galbart sighed slightly. “Thank you. I hope you will be able to come to Scotland for our wedding. I am sure Mary would be thrilled to finally meet you in person.” he then said, with a smile of thinly veiled relief as he looked at Jorah.  

“…I know. I wish she were here too.” he added in a soft murmur as his smile faded, lowering his eyes. His beloved older sister Erena, Jorah’s first wife, had died when he was but a boy, and though more than fifteen years had passed since then, the memory of that painful day was still fresh in his mind, and he still felt her loss keenly. Robett had been too young to remember much at all, but Galbart remembered. He remembered everything. 

Nothing had ever been the same again for him and his family: the grief had taken its toll on their mother, but their father had never recovered from the loss, spending the last few years of his existence in almost complete isolation, without ever leaving Deepwood Manor. Galbart had never seen him smile again.

"We'd started discussing moving to London, you know.The paper wanted me there...She wasn't too keen on it.  It always overwhelmed her a bit when we visited..."  He smiled slightly. "Besides, she would argue--she could argue, you know, when she wanted--besides, Bartie and Robett won't be able to visit us so often." 

He took a breath, feeling a tightening in his chest as he thought back all those years ago.  "We decided to wait on our decision till after the baby arrived."  Jorah shook his head.  "I would've stayed if that's what she wanted.  I wouldn't have regretted it or resented her.  That-hadn't always been the case, but it was then."

The cab pulled to a stop and Jorah got out, paying the driver.  They were supposed to be lunching at the place Galbart was staying at, so he waited for Galbart to get his suitcase, before proceeding with him.

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jmormont:

galbartglover:

“I understand where you’re coming from, Jorah, but… the front? Is it really a wise decision?” Galbart asked, turning to face Jorah with a perplexed frown. “I can’t believe your cousins would agree with that. Or your aunt, for that matter.” And all that just because of his reluctance to write articles under a pseudonym. Galbart wasn’t sure whether to find that honorable or simply infuriating anymore, considering how many times he’d tried to talk some sense into him over the years.   “Do you mean to tell me that your feelings for her have simply…stopped…after all this time?” Galbart broke out in a cold sweat at the question, but struggled to keep his composure, clearing his throat slightly and taking a few seconds before answering, visibly stiff. “What I mean to tell you is that I am now engaged to miss Mary Dougall. We are to be married next year, in June.”

“I can’t believe your cousins would agree with that. Or your aunt, for that matter.”

Jorah frowned.  “It’s really not their decision. It will be for their betterment—for the family’s well-being—in the end,” he said stiffly.  He was tired of justifying his decisions to people. It meant he had to justify them to himself and the more time passed, the harder he was finding to do that.

“What I mean to tell you is that I am now engaged to miss Mary Dougall. We are to be married next year, in June.”

Jorah’s surprise showed on his face.  “Oh.“  With the surprise came a sinking feeling of disappointment that he could not quite explain.  “Mary Dougall.  That is—quite a prudent match.”  He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, “And this is—what you want for yourself?”

Galbart felt a sudden pang of guilt at Jorah’s reaction. It was quite clear that the older man was not expecting such news, and he silently cursed himself for not being more considerate about it. But there was no roundabout way, and while he had hoped to be able to discuss the matter with more time and more ease there was nothing to be done about it anymore; the conversation had taken an unexpected turn from the very beginning. He fought to keep his expression impassive. “…Yes. She’s a very kind woman.” That much, at least, was true. They did get along well, and she would probably make a good wife, though Galbart preferred to omit the fact that the match had been facilitated - or more accurately, imposed - by his widowed mother, who had always been vocally unhappy about her eldest son’s prolonged bachelorhood.

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Jorah nodded. "Good--that is good. I'm glad for you." He was, in his way, though at the moment he had a hard time vocalizing it. It was a prudent match...as his marriage to Erena had been. It had been a responsible choice for him and his family--he couldn't fault Galbart for doing the same. He and Erena had come to love each other, too. The same was quite possible for Bartie and the Dougall girl, if they didn't already. He looked down at his hands, then looked back up at Galbart, a sad smile on his face. "Your sister would have been so excited."

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galbartglover:

“I understand where you’re coming from, Jorah, but… the front? Is it really a wise decision?” Galbart asked, turning to face Jorah with a perplexed frown. “I can’t believe your cousins would agree with that. Or your aunt, for that matter.” And all that just because of his reluctance to write articles under a pseudonym. Galbart wasn’t sure whether to find that honorable or simply infuriating anymore, considering how many times he’d tried to talk some sense into him over the years.   “Do you mean to tell me that your feelings for her have simply…stopped…after all this time?” Galbart broke out in a cold sweat at the question, but struggled to keep his composure, clearing his throat slightly and taking a few seconds before answering, visibly stiff. “What I mean to tell you is that I am now engaged to miss Mary Dougall. We are to be married next year, in June.”

“I can’t believe your cousins would agree with that. Or your aunt, for that matter.”

Jorah frowned.  "It's really not their decision. It will be for their betterment--for the family's well-being--in the end," he said stiffly.  He was tired of justifying his decisions to people. It meant he had to justify them to himself and the more time passed, the harder he was finding to do that.

“What I mean to tell you is that I am now engaged to miss Mary Dougall. We are to be married next year, in June.”

Jorah's surprise showed on his face.  "Oh."  With the surprise came a sinking feeling of disappointment that he could not quite explain.  "Mary Dougall.  That is--quite a prudent match."  He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, "And this is--what you want for yourself?"

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galbartglover:

Fancy hearing that coming from you. That was what flashed in Galbart’s mind for a sheer second, but the words just stuck in his throat when he tried to utter them. He gave a quick gulp, nervously shaking his head. “I- I just cannot face her. You can’t chide me for that, Jorah. And besides, things are… different, now.” Lowering his gaze again, he uncomfortably fingered the few coins in his pocket for a lack of better things to do, or say, suddenly wishing he had sent Robett down south after all. He hadn’t been in London for more than half an hour, and already his trip was proving to be an awkward stroll down memory lane. “So…” he started, with an uneasy tone, quite plainly looking for a way to change the subject. “Lyra drunk after breaking into your apartment, Alysane kicking you out of her pub, Dacey working as a governess. I’m afraid you’re right, Mormont women are always full of surprises. But I’m glad to know they are well, at least. And how are you faring?”

“It’s hypocritical of me to say such things,” Jorah said, catching the brief look that crossed Galbart’s face before he shook his head.  “But I only—don’t want to see either of you make the same mistakes I have.”

"And how are you faring?"

Jorah scratched his chin.  “I’m still the same stubborn ass or maybe coward who won’t go back home to talk to Maege, if that’s what you wanted to know.”  He paused.  “War is coming.”  He knew this wasn’t news to a man like Galbart.  He wasn’t like Lyra with her head so far in the clouds, asking him question upon question about it.  “I’m in the process of, ah—" How to put it? “—using my connections within the War Department to get credentialed as a frontline correspondent.”  A small, weary smile.  “A few stories the papers back home won’t be able to resist, no matter who’s said what about me…and maybe the girls can go back home soon enough.”

He tilted his head, curiously.  “But you said things are different now—in how you feel toward Dacey.”  Yes, he hadn’t been a journalist for all those years without picking up passing details.  There had been apprehension in Galbart’s voice—moreso than usual—when he’d uttered the words.  “Do you mean to tell me that your feelings for her have simply…stopped…after all this time?”  He had a hard time believing it. 

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galbartglover:

“I should do what? Apologize?” Galbart said, the bitterness in his voice barely concealed. “No, I don’t think I could face her. And the last time we talked to each other she made it quite clear that she didn’t want to see me again.” Although that wasn’t exactly how she worded it, he thought to himself. Several hurtful things had been said on both parts, culminating in Dacey giving Galbart a hard slap across the face and then storming off. He had had a bruise for days, and she had never written to him or contacted him again. That was eloquent enough, he supposed.   “But Lyra… at your apartment? Here in London?” he asked, only now turning to Jorah again, brows furrowed in genuine surprise. “Your aunt has worried herself sick over her. The last time I heard from her, she thought Lyra was still somewhere in Scotland.” As did Galbart, in fact. No-one could have imagined that she would make her way to London all alone, and the possibility of either of her sisters harboring her without telling their mother was unlikely at best. Perhaps she thought her cousin Jorah would be more sympathetic. “I understand this is none of my business, but… don’t you think she ought to know?” Galbart finally suggested, cautiously. “I could- I could tell her myself, if you prefer.”

“Would you rather spend a lifetime of not facing her—always wondering, the bitterness—the hurt—only growing—rather than risk a bit of pride?” Jorah asked.  “I know Dacey as well as you do, Bartie.”  He paused to look at the younger man, the pain in Galbart’s eyes reminding him so very much of Erena.  “And I know you, too.”

He let out a sigh.  “As for Lyra…she showed up a couple of weeks ago…How she found me, I don’t know.  She was drunk off my good Scotch, in the middle of the living room, after picking my lock.”  He shook his head.  “Mormont women, Bartie.  Every time I try to understand them…well, they do their damnedest to throw me for a loop.  But don’t worry.  Alysane has already written to Maege.  After throwing me out the pub she works in and threatening to have my head if I return.”  That was a whole other matter.

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galbartglover:

“No, it’s… fine. I understand.” Galbart hurried to reply, suddenly staring down at the hat in his lap in a moment of embarrassment at his knee-jerk reaction. There was no denying the fact that he was upset, but he supposed that Jorah had acted with the best intentions… still, it was not exactly what Galbart was expecting when he got off the train, not like that, not after all that time.   Dacey sends her regards. She hopes my trip is successful.

He didn’t dare meet Jorah’s eyes again, looking out of the window in silence for a while, his unspoken question hanging in the air. Then a deep sigh, as he reluctantly formed the words.

“How is she? Is she faring well?”

"As well as she can be, I suppose," Jorah said quietly.  "She is a governess for a family out in Hyde Park.  I had not meant to disrupt her--" Because that is what he still thought he was doing.  Disrupting his family, not returning to them. "--but--Lyra showed up at my apartment...and then...well the whole thing's gotten quite out of control by now."  He didn't immediately elaborate, just thought about Dacey as she'd been at their meeting.  She had not looked particularly content with her new position in life--and he was to blame for that.  She did not like answering to people, either--he could only imagine how she was faring under the watchful eye of a haughty Hyde Park matron. 

He looked over at Galbart.  "She was sincere when she asked about you, if you're wondering...I think she meant it. You should--"  He stopped himself with a sheepish look.  Who was he to give advice on relationships? 

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galbartglover:

  Galbart simply sat there in silence, petrified for a few seconds, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. Jorah had made no previous mention of the fact that he and Dacey had made up after their quarrel, and telling her of Galbart’s presence in London after all that had happened seemed… uncalled for, in a way. He knew what had happened.

“I’m glad you’re talking to each other again… but…” he started then, clearly scrambling for words. “She hopes my trip is successful? Just like that?” His tone sounded almost exasperated. “What- what did you tell her, Jorah?

"That you were coming to the city on business," Jorah said, looking out the window, patting his pockets down--as he perpetually was--for his pack of cigarettes.  "Nothing more or less, really."  He bit his lip, still staring at the passing cars and not looking at Galbart, suddenly feeling like he'd done this all wrong.  "My apologies if it was out of line.  I--had only--just seen her--for the first time in years.  My enthusiasm may have been...misplaced."

He still didn't explain how he'd come to see her, but he did finally look back at Galbart, his countenance wearier than a few minutes ago.  It was a new thing, interacting with his family once more, and he was still getting used to it.  Still, it wasn't an excuse - it was his own fault.

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galbartglover:

jmormont:

“It’s never a problem,” Jorah said matter-of-factly.  He started to lead them through the crowd, weaving expertly as they made their way out of the station. 

“I trust your journey went well enough,” he said when they had made it to the sidewalk.  He approached a hired car and gave the driver the address of Galbart’s hotel.  The driver then got out and loaded the suitcase into the boot of the car.

Once they were both in the car, Jorah added, casually, “Dacey sends her regards.”

“It did, thank you. I’m a bit tired, but nothing out of the ordinary.” Galbart replied, as cheerfully as he could, as he handed his suitcase to the driver and climbed in the car after Jorah, still struggling to take in his surroundings. He let out a long breath as he sat down, just before Jorah’s words hit him like a slap in the face.   “Dacey sends her regards.” For a moment it felt almost as if somebody had knocked the breath out of him. “W-what…?” he stammered, struggling to regain his composure. “Did you…? How does she know I’m here?”

Better here than in the restaurant at the hotel, Jorah reasoned.  It had been an unnecessarily surprising way to bring it up, but Jorah couldn't think of another way to do it.

"I saw her a couple of days ago," Jorah said evenly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.  "She said she hopes your trip is successful."  He paused, looking over at Bartie guiltily.  "...it has been quite an eventful week, truth be told."

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daceymormont:

jmormont:

“I’ll let him know,” Jorah said.

Then, he added, “We’ll do lunch—and sometime soon.  Maybe we can get around to discussin’ yer mam and yer sisters…” And everything else you’ve been up to…He had missed so much in her life—in all of their lives—and he felt it hard right then.  With a sad smile, Jorah held out his arms to hug her. 

It was all the invitation that Dacey needed, and she quickly hugged him before stepping back. Embracing a man, even cousin Jorah, in public was frowned upon in this part of London. “Now, don’t ye be goin’ around doin’ anythin’ stupid. Ye hear me?”

"I can't guarantee that," Jorah smirked at her.  "But I'll certainly try--for yer sake."  For all their sakes, really.  'Going off to war' didn't count, in his book, though. It was for them that he was doing it.  Well, that and his own pride, but that was different, Jorah told himself.  "Take care o' yerself."  He knew she would.  Of all of the girls, Dacey had always been the most responsible.  He smiled again, gave a small wave and turned to go.

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galbartglover:

“Jorah. It’s so good to see you too.” Galbart greeted, almost breathlessly, as he stopped in front of the older man and dropped his suitcase to the ground with a loud thump. He shook Jorah’s hand, perhaps a little too firmly for his intentions, flashing him a thin, tired smile. For a second, he studied Jorah’s face. He was happy to see him looking so well, certainly far better than the last time they’d seen each other, more than a year ago - and seeing a friendly face upon his arrival was just what Galbart needed after the interminable trip. “I hope it wasn’t a problem for you to come pick me up.”

"It's never a problem," Jorah said matter-of-factly.  He started to lead them through the crowd, weaving expertly as they made their way out of the station. 

"I trust your journey went well enough," he said when they had made it to the sidewalk.  He approached a hired car and gave the driver the address of Galbart's hotel.  The driver then got out and loaded the suitcase into the boot of the car.

Once they were both in the car, Jorah added, casually, "Dacey sends her regards."

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daceymormont:

jmormont:

“I’ll tell him ye said hello, then,” Jorah said, letting go of her hand.  “Or anythin’ else ye want to pass on.”  He checked his pocketwatch and then stood up, smoothing his suit where it had wrinkled from sitting.  “I best get goin’…”

“Just… tell him, that I hope his trip is quite successful…” For a moment she thought of asking Jorah to tell Bartie she was sorry, but that was something Dacey had to do herself. Bartie deserved an apology from Dacey in person for some of the horrible things she’d accused him of. Checking the time herself, she realized that she had to return to the house or she’d not get dinner. “I have to get goin’ too it seems. The family is going to the countryside in a week to see the boys grandparents. We could maybe have lunch or tea or somethin’?” She didn’t want Jorah to just disappear again after such a long time.

"I'll let him know," Jorah said.

Then, he added, "We'll do lunch--and sometime soon.  Maybe we can get around to discussin' yer mam and yer sisters..." And everything else you've been up to...He had missed so much in her life--in all of their lives--and he felt it hard right then.  With a sad smile, Jorah held out his arms to hug her. 

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galbartglover:

Galbart got off the train, dragging along his heavy suitcase, still feeling dizzy from his lack of sleep. By the time he’d reached the platform his breath was ragged, and he had to stop in his tracks for a few seconds, looking at the crowd around him with a vaguely apprehensive look; Jorah had replied to his telegram, saying he would be there to pick him up at his arrival, but King’s Cross was just as busy as ever and he was nowhere to be seen. Making an effort to relax, he sighed slightly, the crisp morning air feeling good on his flushed face as he set down his suitcase and removed his tan homburg.   And then he saw Jorah’s familiar figure in the distance, slightly thinned, slightly older, but still the same as ever. Picking up his baggage again he started walking towards him, with obvious relief on his face.

Jorah saw the boy--the man--why did he always have to remind himself that Galbart was more than a man grown now? Perhaps it was the constant look of apprehension Bartie wore while traveling--and they'd only ever seen each other the last four years while one or both of them was in the middle of traveling.  He saw Galbart, at any rate, and immediately started in his direction.

"Galbart," Jorah said with a genuine smile as he stopped in front of the younger man.  He held out his hand.  "It is good to see you."