✓ Trueblood || Jon Snow

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓 ~ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

JON DIDN'T KNOW HOW MUCH TIME HAD PASSED, how long it took him to bury his regrets, his nightmares, but he did. He buried them deep, not sure if all he wanted was to forget them, or if that was the last thing he wanted. But it didn't really matter.

He sat at his desk one morning as Edd handed him a steady flow of papers requiring his signature when a knock sounded on the door. Jon sighed, rising to his feet. He expected it was the new recruits that were meant to arrive soon, and he was rather grateful for the distraction. But his brows furrowed in confusion when it was Olly who opened the door.

"Lord Commander, a woman has arrived asking for you." he told Jon. "Ser Alliser has taken her to the hall."

Jon looked to Edd in confusion, but his friend only shrugged, uncertain. Leaving the paperwork behind, Jon hastily made his way down to the hall, thoughts of Sansa and Arya playing at his mind and igniting a small flickering hope that perhaps it was one of them. Upon reaching the large doors, he hesitated, unable to explain the strange racing in his heart. Without another moment of hesitation, he pushed open the doors to see Ser Alliser speaking with a figure at the other end of the hall and nearly stopped breathing.

She was facing away from him, but there was no possible way it was anyone else. Her stance was just as he remembered, full of confidence and charm, his own wolf cloak from that night so long ago wrapped around her shoulders. She was a tiny bit taller, and her hair a bit longer, but when she turned, it was her, sure as hells. His eyes stayed locked on hers, his feet rooted to the floor. Her expression was a little nervous, maybe even a little vulnerable when she saw him.

Looking at her now, Jon wasn't certain he'd woken up at all this morning. He didn't speak her name, for fear she would crumble to ash before him, and he would wake to the cold horrible reality. But then came the sound of her voice, his name slipping from her lips as though she too thought that perhaps she was dreaming. "Jon?" It was a sound he'd missed, one he'd nearly forgotten, never hearing even in his dreams. And he knew then that he was awake.

The small distance between them suddenly felt enormous and where his feet had been stuck to the floor a moment ago, he now rushed forward, quickly closing the space as he pulled her into his embrace, her head still tucking perfectly beneath his chin as his fingers tangled amongst her hair. "I thought you were dead... I was never going to see you again... never get to tell you how sorry I was." the words slipped from his mouth, rushed and quiet, and even through his own racing heart, he could feel the precious thump thump thump of hers, leaving him full of indescribable satisfaction. "Yelena, I'm so sorry. I never should have left you behind. I love you... I always have."

Though Yelena remained silent, he could feel the tension leave her, her body settling into his like a pile of warm furs and he wished they could just stay there like that forever. When she drew back, he could see tears glittering in her brilliant green eyes. She'd grown even more beautiful since he last saw her, he realised, and gained a scar too; a thin white line tracing across her cheek. He wondered where it had come from. "Shh," she whispered soothingly, a hand raising to cup his cheek. "You don't have to apologise. If anyone should be, it's me. After everything my family has done... it's unforgivable."

He gave her a little smile. "I know you had nothing to do with that, Call of the Wolf."

That made her laugh a bit, and seeing her smile again made him want to lift her up and kiss her, start over again from that night at Winterfell. But there were too many curious eyes, and he had his vows to worry about.

Breaking Jon's chain of thought, Ser Davos strode in, his expression becoming bewildered at the sight of Yelena. "Princess Yelena? But- you can't be- you were dead!"