✓ Trueblood || Jon Snow

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖜𝖔 ~ 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖘

**Yelena POV**

YELENA STOOD BY THE SIDE OF LITTLE LYANNA MORMONT, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She'd had so much fire, so much potential, and she'd been stolen from them. The princess places a single wildflower in Lyanna's hand, leaning down to whisper to her. "You lied to me. You did grow to be beautiful. Bring this with you as a reminder of the great warrior whose beauty shone from within." she bit her lip. "It's time to go see your mother now." her voice choked up slightly. "I'm sure she's missed you." She stood up straight, forcing herself to take a deep breath before returning to the others.

Jon stepped forward. "We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters." his voice echoed across the crowd and the pyres of the dead. "To our fathers and mothers. To our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences... to fight together... and die together so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honour to keep them alive in memory... for those who come after us... and those who come after them... for as long as men draw breath." Yelena bit her lip, willing her breathing to come evenly. "They were the shields that guarded the realms of men. And we shall never see their light again."

Several people, including Sansa, Arya, Daenerys, Jon and Yelena took up torches. She clenched her teeth as she moved with them to her place beside a pyre, and in sync with the others, lit it aflame. They returned to their places, and she watched the flames and smoke rise, filling the air with the stench of death. But it was a smell she was well accustomed to by now, barely affecting her. She almost wished it would. The distraction would be a mercy.

Back in her room, Yelena lay on her bed, her arms around Lishay's neck and her face buried in the direwolf's fur like a pillow. She'd come back to the princess with only a few small scratches and a larger one on her muzzle, but other than that she was okay. Not everyone had been so lucky. Lord Swann had a broken leg, and Lord Coran had perished, leaving his sixteen-year-old son Julian as the new Lord Estermont. Lord Connington was alright, thankfully. Yelena let out a groan at the sound of the door opening, the noise slightly muffled by wolf fur.

"I'm glad she's alright."

She rolled over to look at Jon with a small, tired smile. "Yeah, she's a tough one. How's Ghost? I saw his ear."

He nodded. "He'll be alright. I don't think he's really even noticed." He sat down on the edge of the bed, gently scratching between the black wolf's ears. "How are you?"

She blinked. "Me? Just great. I fell off a dragon, fought dead men, almost drowned in dead bodies and buried a friend of twelve." She sat up with a sigh, staring hollowly at the wall across from her. "I'll be fine." she murmured. "It's just a lot."

Jon huffed a small sound resembling a laugh, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it is. But we both made it."

She gave a soft smile, slipping her hand in his. "We did."

***

In the Hall that night, Yelena was slowly becoming overwhelmed by the tension. Sitting right between Jon and Dany, she was slapped with the brunt of whatever the hell was going on between them - which she still needed to ask Jon about.

Finally the silence was broken when Yelena's brother walked by. "Gendry." the queen called. He turned to look at her. "That's right, isn't it?"

He nodded as he slowly moved to stand before her. "Yes, Your Grace."

"You're Robert Baratheon's son." the princess froze at that, but when he looked to her with a tiny flash of panic in his eyes, she gave a little reassuring nod. She wasn't going to let anything happen. He nodded again. "You were aware he took my family's throne and tried to have me murdered?" Though the words were harsh, her tone was not. She sounded only curious as to how much he knew of his family's history.