This is more an imagine that is a lead up to a second part that will mainly just focus on Jorah and reader. Hope you enjoy 😃

All eyes turned to look at Jorah and Sandor as they walked into the tavern; the two men had been sent to a village to find a woman that Jon had described to Jorah as a witch, saying that the woman's gifts could serve them well when the war came, and as Sandor had told Jorah, a tavern always seemed like the best place to start looking for anyone.

"You know, just one time I would like to walk into one of these places, and everyone would just ignore us." Jorah stated, as Sandor stood behind him, scanning the mass of villagers; his brown eyes finally falling on a figure that sat at the very back of the tavern, dressed head to toe in black, a large hood conveniently covering any facial features.

"What do ya two want? Ain't no one fa ya ta fight round ere." A large man called out, chuckling as he stood up from his table, and raised his beer to the others present.

A murmur went through the patrons, as Jorah took note of the figure that Sandor discretely pointed out, his eyes never leaving the figure, as a pale delicate hand reached out from under the black cloak that clothed it and took hold of a glass of wine that sat in front of them.

"We have been sent to look for someone special, we have been sent to find a witch." Jorah declared, watching as the patrons looked at one another nervously, some of them inadvertently looking over at the figure dressed in black.

"Witch? Who told ya that me dear?" An elderly woman asked from behind the bar.

"We ain't had a witch round these parts since forever, ain't that right Harrin?" The woman stated, looking over at the old man that was collecting empty tankards from the tables.

"Ay love, ain't been no witches round these parts since....... well since I were a lad." The old man said with a smile, as he carried his full tray back to the bar.

"Who told ya there were a witch anyway?" Another man called out, as he looked around the other men he was drinking with.

"It don't matter who told us! We were told there were a witch, and we have come ta find her." Sandor growled, glaring at the man, as he finally made his way to the bar, closely followed by Jorah.

"Ya don't want to listen ta any crazy old stories, Sers." The woman behind the bar chuckled, handing Sandor and Jorah two drinks.

"Whoever told ya there were a witch round these parts, has sent ya on a wild goose chase." She said to Jorah, as she took a cloth and began to clean the stack of dirty glasses.

"Well the crazy man that sent us, said that there was a witch by the name of (Y/n), sounds a little strange that he should be able to give me a name and everything; don't you think? And he was quite adamant that I would find her in the village." A more diplomatic Jorah told the woman, his eyes darting back to the figure, as another murmur went around the tavern.

"(Y/n)? Ah! Well that explains it." Yet another man called out, as a collective laugh rippled through the establishment.

"Lots of men have thought that poor (Y/n) were a witch, said that she bewitched em; but the sweet girl was just a beauty." The barmaid explained, as the two men downed their drinks, Jorah's eyes focusing on the figure that a number of the patrons now seemed to be surrounding protectively.

"Look Sers, (Y/n) was no witch, she was the furthest thing from it; she was a healer, and she watched over the people and the village; some men just didn't like it when she turned down their advances, and they tried to have her branded a witch in hopes that she would come to some harm." The landlord began to explain, handing Jorah and Sandor another drink.

"Do ya remember that last dirty old man? He was old enough to be er grandfather." The old woman added, only to be hushed by her husband.

"Well can we at least meet this (Y/n) so that we can make sure that your story is true, and that she is not the woman that we have been sent to find?" Jorah asked, noticing as the face of the landlord seemed to change to a strange sad expression.

"Can't do that I'm afraid. One of the lords didn't like the fact that she had refused his advances, so he took it on himself ta send a pack of his dogs out ta follow (Y/n) as she rode one day; they chased er down, er horse bolted, and she fell, poor lass broke er neck." The barmaid explained, pretending to wipe away a tear.

"So, ya see Sers, ain't no business round ere fa ya." The landlord told Jorah nervously, his eyes watching as the dark figure quietly left the tavern.

Before Sandor could finish his drink, Jorah grabbed the large man by the arm and dragged him from the tavern, following the figure out into the cool night.

"Hey! Stop!" Jorah called out, as he tried to catch up with the quickly moving figure.

"Stop (Y/n)!" Jorah called out again, watching as the figure stopped and turned around to face him and Sandor, both men drawing their swords from their sheaths, as the figure pulled out a long staff from under their cloak.

"I would put those swords of yours away if I were you, Sers; because if you don't, I promise you that you'll regret it." A beautiful voice called out, the sound seeming to drift perfectly through the ether.

"What are you?" Jorah demanded to know, as he stepped closer, raising his sword ready to strike.

Suddenly Jorah stopped dead in his tracks, as the figure finally revealed what hid beneath the hood. As the material was removed, locks of hair, as white as snow fell down her back, a pair of brilliant blue eyes glowing in the dark evening light. To say the woman was beautiful, would have been doing her a terrible disservice, and in all his years, Jorah knew that he had never seen anything so breathtakingly perfect, not even Daenerys could compete with the beauty before them.

"I am like nothing you have ever seen before." The woman stated as the two men advanced.

As she spoke, she brought down her staff, and as it hit the ground, the earth underneath the two men, cracked and began to shake. She raised her hand, and the small torches that were dotted around the village began to throw off blazing balls of fire towards the two stunned men. With a soft word, the winds gusted strong enough to nearly knock Jorah and the large Sandor from their feet, as torrential rain began to fall from the sky.

"She can't be." Jorah said to himself, as he and Sandor tried to fight against the elements that the young woman had bought down on them; the rain only easing a little as she disappeared into the woods that surrounded the village.

"WHAT DID YA DO?" The landlord called out angrily, as he and the other men rushed out of the tavern, covering themselves against the wind and rain.

"GET OUT OF ERE!" A man shouted, as the locals began to throw rocks and stones, chasing Jorah and Sandor out of the village.

                                                           >>------------------------------<<

"Well, are ya gonna to tell me what all that were about, she looked like a Targaryen ta me?" Sandor said, as he and Jorah finally settled down around the campfire, trying to dry their soaked clothes.

"No, she isn't a Targaryen; I can't believe it myself, but there is only one explanation for what she is, and that is an elemental; but I've never seen or heard of one like her before." Jorah explained, grabbing a burning brand and stoking the fire.

"Elemental? What's an elemental? I thought Jon said that this woman were a witch." Sandor said, as he rung out his damp shirt as best he could.

"Elementals are mythical beings that control the four Empedoclean elements of earth, air, fire, and water. Usually each element is ruled over by its own creature: Gnomes control the earth; Undines, water: Slyphs the air; and salamanders, fire; but this (Y/n) seemed to be able to control all four with only a mere movement of her hand. Whatever her story, she is an exceptionally powerful being." Jorah told Sandor, as he lay back on his bed roll.

"Is she dangerous, I mean, is she what Jon wants, and if she is, do ya think that we can find her again?" Sandor asked, confused when Jorah chuckled softly.

"I am sure that she could prove extremely dangerous if provoked in the right way; but given what the villagers told us about her, and how they protected her, I believe what they say; and I believe that the woman is just what Jon is looking for, and if persuaded she could prove a very useful allies; also I'm quite sure that it is not the last time that we have seen our elemental, I am positive that she is intrigued to know why we would be looking for her." Jorah said, sighing softly as he turned away from Sandor.

"At least I hope it's not the last time we've seen her." Jorah whispered to himself, as he slowly closed his eyes, the image of her face lingering in his mind.