Chapter Twenty-Nine: Jorah

 

I f brawling in front of the Seers and the rest of the Bear Clan was nerve wracking enough, then competing in the contest of strength in front of the leaders of both the Pack and Pride was downright frightening. Well, not that it would stop Jorah from winning the contest.

He just didn’t expect it, nor did anyone else, apparently. He guessed leaving Remus back in the Oldwood was the cause of this little predicament, but maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Either way it made his heart pound in anticipation of the fight, with every pair of eyes on him; the pressure from everyone’s gaze stung his lungs, parching his lungs for air. Jorah glanced over his shoulder one last time to throw Nyssa a smile and wink to show he was confident, and he received a small smile in return.

“For I shall now speak!” Dallan shouted, raising his arms to the sky, remaining surprisingly calm in the face of the newcomers. For once, Jorah actually praised his adopted father, something he thought he’d never do again. “This is a contest of strength! For all those who were at the Seers’ yesterday morning...and for those who have just arrived on a whim, let me share the laws of this engagement. In this contest of strength, we have Jorah...my son, fighting to abolish our laws of isolation, and Gareth, chosen warrior to represent the Seers in the contest, who fights to protect the laws of isolation.” While the other Seers twitched when they glanced at the wolves and cougars, Dallan remained collected and staring between Jorah and Gareth. “Whoever steps out, or is thrown out of the ring first, wins the contest, and therefore their word must be law. When I give the word, the match shall begin, and the two participants may do whatever they wish to win the duel.”

Jorah took a deep breath, hardening his stance and tensing up his muscles, ready to pounce at the moment Dallan gave the word. He’d already formed a solid plan in his head; charge this Gareth first, get him off balance, then end the match quickly as he shoved the shifter out of the ring. Gareth watched Jorah the entire time, barely moving, only letting his arms persist at hanging at his sides. Too bad Jorah didn’t sweat; his sweat could have turned to icicles in this frigid cold, and he could have used those as tiny knives to battle Gareth.

“Begin!” Dallan shouted.

So, Jorah made his move, bolting forward at breakneck speed. The best strategy was always to put one’s self in the center, so even if Jorah’s plan didn’t work completely, at least he wouldn’t be near the edges of the ring. But Jorah’s confidence briskly transformed into stunned annoyance as instead of staying still, like Jorah had predicted, Gareth mimicked Jorah and ran forward. The two collided a second after Dallan gave the word to begin, and Gareth’s fist connected easily with Jorah’s jaw.

The force of the impact sent Jorah reeling back, buckling to the ground. A gasp rippled through the crowd as Jorah scrambled to a kneeling position, caressing the numbness in his cheek. But Gareth wasn’t playing around, and he lumbered forward.

“Get up, Jorah!” Nyssa screamed, breaking open the floodgates for the voices to start going wild around him.

“You don’t need to tell me!” Jorah whispered under his breath as he kicked out at Gareth’s legs. The first time he kicked, Gareth caught his foot in both of his meaty hands, so Jorah lifted himself off the grounds with his own hands and twirled in the air to land his other foot on Gareth’s skull. This time, Gareth buckled, letting go of Jorah’s foot and stumbling back, grabbing at his head. Seeing his chance once again, Jorah clambered to his feet, clumps of snow flying everywhere, and darted at Gareth, slamming into the man’s stomach and rolling to the ground in the middle of the circle. Gareth clawed at him, grunting and growling, but Jorah remained resolute, angling himself to get a better grip on the big guy.

By now the crowd was cheering and hollering, a rather unbefitting sight of the once renowned Bear Clan. It was almost as if they all treated this contest of strength like any other foolish brawl between young boys. Even Nyssa’s voice, along with Finn’s and Lowell’s, and even Remus’ reached his ears, though he didn’t have the time to make out exactly what they were saying.

Getting underneath Gareth, Jorah locked his arms around Gareth’s neck, hoping to suffocate him to the point of falling unconscious. If Jorah could do that, all he’d have to do would be to drag Gareth to the edge and roll him out of the ring. But Gareth apparently wasn’t on board with that wonderful idea, as he elbowed Jorah in the sides, stabbing his ribs, causing Jorah to puff at the sharp pains and relax his hold a bit, allowing Gareth to roll off and punch Jorah’s chin.

Nearly dismembering his tongue because of the punch to the chin, Jorah rolled away as well, rising to his feet in tandem with Gareth. The crowd roared in pleasure, the cold winds blazing through, and the once pristine snow before him now thrown about and mushed around. Gareth shook off snow that matted his head and back, while Jorah massaged his chin. The two circled each other, panting and never breaking eye contact.

For a split second, Dallan caught Jorah’s eye, this adoptive father watching him closely, his thin lips and matted beard stoic in the raging winds, while all the other Seers rooted and hollered for Gareth to prevail. In that split-second Gareth darted forward, roaring a battle cry so deafening it quieted part of the crowd. Jorah sidestepped just in time to have Gareth come to a sliding stop only a foot away from the edge of the circle. He wobbled for a moment, but managed to keep himself from stumbling out of the ring.

Clicking his tongue, Jorah clenched his fists. This fight was dragging on for too long! Any longer and Gareth could get the upper hand. Gareth must have had the same thought, because he pounded the ground and glared at Jorah, tearing off his shirt as he shifted into a massive, dark haired grizzly bear. Throwing off his own shirt, Jorah shifted as well, his body growing and sprouting locks of thick, brown hair all over his skin, tearing the pants and boots that warmed his body to shreds.

As each bear slammed their paws on the ground, the plateau shook, and Jorah roared to install fear in Gareth’s heart. But instead of fear, Gareth matched his roar to the beat, and each then charged towards the other, their feet leaving behind pockets of empty air, snow being kicked into the air.

When they met in the middle of the circle, they each rose to their feet and barreled into each other, grunting and growling and battering each other with their paws, trying to dig in their claws. Jorah stepped awkwardly to the side, causing his stance to weaken, which Gareth took full advantage of; head butting Jorah, he rolled backwards, at which Gareth kept on the pursuit, pushing Jorah closer and closer to the edge of the circle. His heart hammering and mind rolling with his blood, flashes of Nyssa tore through his memory, her lips, her voice, her very touch sending waves of adrenaline pumping into his body.

Right before Jorah was rolled out of the ring, he slapped Gareth in the eye, causing the brute to flinch and release Jorah for but a fraction of a second. That was enough for Jorah, as he used his smaller size to get under Gareth, lift him from the ground, and toss him forward. In a loud thud, Gareth landed on his side, sliding forward in the snow and roaring, scrambling to his feet to fight...until he gazed at the ground and froze.

The entire crowd surrounding the ring grew silent as well, with only Gareth’s and Jorah’s heavy panting to fill the void. Narrowing his eyes, Jorah glanced from Gareth to the edge of the circle, seeing him well past the line.

Time stopped, with the winds dying and snow drifts sparkling bright under the clear morning sun.

Even Jorah found himself speechless, or roarless rather, as he stared upon his opponent standing completely on the other side of the line. Jorah...had thrown Gareth out of the ring.

Shifting back to his human form, Jorah breathed heavily, his blood still burning in his veins and his mind still filling with images of Nyssa, her radiant figure shining brighter than the sun.

Dallan stepped forward amid the silence, his own eyes as wide as the gaping jaws of the rest of the Seers behind him. “It appears as if this match has concluded. Jorah is the victor!” He called. “Jorah’s word may now become law.”

It took a moment for it all to sink in, but when the crowds began to roar in the triumph, he realized he didn’t care about the win in that moment. All he wanted was Nyssa. Looking around frantically for his mate, Jorah stumbled and turned his body, unable to see or hear anything other than his own mind telling him to run to Nyssa. All he wanted to feel was her touch. All he wanted to hear was her voice. But he couldn’t find her. Panicking, he turned and turned, until finally her golden hair stepped forward amid the ruckus, her brilliant, sparkling blue eyes catching his attention. Seeing her gave him a boost and he propelled forward, running straight for her.

Catching her off guard, he slid to a stop before her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her lips to his, the sensation of her salty mouth making him quiver and tighten his grip, never wanting to let her go.

“The contest of strength, has ended!” Dallan shouted into the chorus of voices. “Jorah is the victor, I say once more! Let it be known that the laws of isolation are now in his hands. You may all disperse and go on your ways if you so wish.”

It wasn’t until Dallan finished his slow rambling that Jorah finally forced himself to let go of Nyssa’s lips to let them both breathe. They both let their tongues hang out, their chests heaving, and their eyes glued to each other. But then Nyssa went in for more, causing them to stumble backwards.

“Geez, could you two tone it down, even for a few minutes?” Remus said somewhere behind them. “You realize a few hundred people are watching you both, right?”

Jorah wanted to laugh and say he didn’t care, but he was too caught up in Nyssa to get the chance to.

“Well, this means we can go talk to those Seers, right?” Darius said, grunting as he stretched. “I thought my body would freeze over before we got the chance.”

“Tell me about it,” Torian agreed. “This bitter cold is frightening. How has the Bear Clan survived on this nasty plateau?”

“By sheer willpower,” Dallan’s voice said.

His adoptive father’s voice was enough to get Jorah to break from Nyssa once more, his lungs struggling to suck in air. He glanced in Dallan’s direction, watching the old Seer waddle up to them all. Dallan caught Jorah’s eyes, and nodded. “Well done, my boy. I suppose those isolation laws of ours will now be gone for good.”

“They will,” Jorah said, grinning like a fool. “But I’m sure the rest of you can handle that conversation without us?” Laughter rang through the shifters surrounding them.

For the first time in ages, Jorah witnessed Dallan smile. It was small, a rather weak curling of his frosted lips, but a smile nonetheless. Stunned, Jorah returned the gesture. “Yes, Jorah,” Dallan said. “I, and the rest of the Seers, can take it from here.” Turning his gaze to Darius and Torian, Dallan raised his head. “You wished to speak with us? To negotiate? Then let us get to it. We’re old and tired, and would rather not delay the inevitable.”

“Sounds good to us,” Darius said. “Lead the way.”

So Dallan did, leading Darius, Amara and Torian through the snow and to the other Seers.

“So, what now?” Nyssa asked, gazing up at Jorah.

Gazing back down into the oceans that resided in her two eyes, Jorah grinned from ear to ear. “What else do we do? Now I’m going to officially claim you once again, as my mate. Get ready, because you’re about to be run ragged.”

With that, Jorah scooped up Nyssa in his arms and ran out into the cold winds, Nyssa giggling and gasping, Remus calling after them, and the rest laughing at the naked sight before them.