Honorless

Bear Island, 291 AC, Alisa Mormont POV.

"And, as I said, I'm limiting your wife's expensive ventures, Jorah. Continue this, our House will be left with no gold in treasury, do you want that to happen?" Alisa glared at Jorah, as it's been hours she's been shaking with anger, sitting on the Lord's solar.

Jorah's new wife, Lynesse, has been a complete waste of money. She spend all her gold for expensive myrish silks and pentosi perfumes. It was alright at the start, Alisa can shut her demand, but when Jorah himself had demanded her to give more gold for her wife's expensive ventures, Alisa lost it.

Her own blood, siding with a Southern b*tch of a woman. Her own blood was angty at her for not meeting his demand, Alisa truly lost all reasons.

"And, as I said earlier, we have more money from the trade, more coins flowed into our coffers. Lynesse can handle her money, if you give it to her." Jorah slammed the table, giving Alisa a glare.

The room started to chill, small ice coated the inner walls of the room. Alisa kept her gaze at Jorah, who is still determined to get the money, "Once again, I refuse to give more coins, coppers included."

"As the Lord of Bear Islands, I command you to open the coffer's gold for Lynesse." Jorah barked, giving the commanding tone. He was not talking to her as her cousin, but a Lord.

Alisa's sky blue eyes turned into ice one, the room was filled with thick veins of ice, completely ignoring her power going rampant. "That's it, Jorah. You're also cut off from the gold. The coffers will forever be locked from you and your wife." She started freezing Jorah's bear-furred tunic, "You may have your title as Lord of Bear Island, but the people will always turn to me for orders, their Lady Mormont. Even the bears of the island will eat your wife bloody, if I so command them. Now, leave before I iced your spendrift Hightower girl of yours." Not waiting for any reply, Alisa grabbed Jorah by his collar and threw him like a rag outside the solar.

"Maester! Treat my cousin... and lock him in his room. And, should that Hightower b*tch send a raven to her family, inform me immediately." Seeing her cousin fell unconscious, bloody by the impact, she ordered to treat him. But in the end, she did not care, Northerner are much more stronger than Southron c*nts.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A moon's turn has passed, news came to Alisa's ear, she punch the solars wall. Her punch reverberated throughout the Old Keep, destroying the pillars and walls. Her hands shows no injury, but her face contorted in pure anger.

Jorah lost his honor. He sold the poachers, thieves and rapist of the land to slavers. As enslavement is banned from Westeros, the only punishment is death. Now, Jorah will face the sword, along with her wife for being an accessory to his crimes.

And her incompetent servants only informed her when Jorah and Lynesse escape Westeros, before Lord Stark could pass the sentence. How? How could news this big was only heard after the events passed?

Maester Alwyn looked worried on the side, noting to himself to remind Lady Alisa to fix the damage. He cleared his throat, "My Lady, now that Ser Jorah has escape the King's justice, you are now the Lady paramount of Bear Islands."

"And?" Alisa looked at the distance, keeping her eyes on the vast and beautiful land of Bear Island.

"As the new command, you must swear fealty to Lord Stark." Maester Alwyn said slowly, "It means, you must travel to Winterfell to renew House Mormont's oath to the Lord Paramount of the North and Warden of the North, which is Lord Stark."

"And what does 'Lord Paramount of the North' and 'Warden of the North' means again, Alwyn?" Alisa gritted her teeth.

"It... Lord Paramountship of the North means Lord Stark governs the Northern Kingdom... and Warden of the North means... protector of the lands and maintaining the King's Law." Maester Alwyn was shaking in cold, as the room dropped its temperature.

Alisa's hand made a rising motion, a pillar and wall of dark ice was replaced to the damage ones, looking good as new. Alisa answered, "No, it means I will be judged if I was accused an accomplice with Jorah's folly. Should I deemed guilty, and Lord should deliver the sword, I have no choice but to force the Winter come sooner. That... is what it meant, Alwyn." She turned her focus to the Maester, "Send raven scroll to Winterfell, we'll be in Winterfell in weeks worth, when Lord Stark received the scroll."

"And gather three hundred Mormont guards to prepare for departure."

Alisa walked through the large castle, now she was regreting making it bigger, as she felt suffocated by the loneliness it gives. Her only family now, is Lyanna... and her uncle, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, of the Night's Watch. She stopped by the door of Jorah's bed chamber, and walked inside. She found a letter, and beside it, the Longclaw. Feeling her anger reigned her emotions, she threw the letter by the fire place and took the Longclaw.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deepwood Motte, 291 AC, Alisa Mormont POV.

The closes western coast from Bear Island is Deepwood Motte. Alisa and her host will be staying at Lord Glover's Keep and resupply for rations and waterskins, and hopefullu, some wineskins.

When entering Deepwood Motte, they were greeted by Lord Glover's steward, blatant insult for the Lord of the Motte for not greeting her personally. The steward said, "Welcome Lady Mormont, Lord Glover welcomes you-"

"Lord Glover welcome me? But, I do not see him welcoming me, or are you Lord Glove perchance?" Alisa eyed the steward icily, not giving him a chance to continue, Alisa once again spoke, "Maybe, we aren't welcome. Perhaps, we can find an inn, instead. I find the people's welcome, especially, the Lord's welcome, to be quite unwelcoming." She turned her horse around, preparing to leave.

"I apologize, Lady Mormont, perhaps you and your party can forgive us, and dine with us for supper?" The gruff and tall old man spoke up, presumably, Lord Galbart Glover, Master of House Glover.

"Lord Glover, how great of you to personally welcome me and my people." Alisa stared at Lord Glover, as if bringing the harshest winter on the Motte. The cold wind spurred in the moment as stair of ice formed beside her horse, helping her find her footing after dismounting the horse. She walked calmly, albeit the hard look on her beautiful face, and the shocked and terrified look at the people around the Motte. "I will forgive this one time, Lord Glover. My patience had greatly diminished due to my cousin's crimes."

Lord Glover remained speechless, terrified in a mix of awe and fear. But after a few breath's time, he finally spoke up, "The hospitality of Deepwood Motte is yours, Lady Mormont."

Only then, Alisa nodded and took the bread from the shaking servant girl's tray, before dipping the bread to the salt. She ate the bread, accepting the ultimate law, the guest right. She turned to Lord Glover, "There is always truth from the Stark. Winter will always come, thus, they say Winter is coming. Or should I say...-"

"... I am."