Ours is the Fury | Game of Thrones OC

52

I stumbled back to the room, grabbing anything that looked like mine or remotely warm, stuffing it into a sack that I found in the corner, I think it was used to hold firewood.

My eyes burned from the tears that I was holding back, few slipped through and fell in blobs onto the rotten floor. I snatched a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around my shivering shoulders, pulling on the sturdy boots that came from Winterfell.

Just as I tied a knot in the sack, the door handle jangled and I jumped back. It was locked already, it always was after everything.

I stepped forward, placing a tentative hand on the door frame and opening my mouth but the person- he beat me to it.

"Lya"

My jaw instantly wobbled a little, my hand moving away from the door, it was impossible.

I was imagining it, I had just seen him. Dead.

"Please" he murmured against the wood.

My shaking fingers closed around the key and grasped it, twisting it as my heart twisted too.

As soon as the click of the lock sounded, the door swung outwards, where he stood waiting, breathless and pale but very much alive.

I staggered back, clutching my middle and releasing every tear that I had saved up in the past few hours.

"I'm sorry" He whispered, stepping back just a step, but his eyes never left mine, even when my trembling hand covered my gaping mouth.

Even when I threw off the blanket and crossed the room in two strides.

Even when we crashed together, my arms locking tightly around his neck, his hands around my waist and keeping me safely in his arms.

Only a small groan that escaped his mouth reminded me of his wounds, I drew back and took his face in my hands.

"Are you alright?" I whispered, looking up into his dark eyes, he nodded quickly pulling me back into a crushing embrace, this time he lifted me from the floor entirely, my legs meeting round his back.

This was definitely far too exerting as he drew in a sharp breath and another long and chesty groan. I let go and landed heavily on the floor.

"I'm sorry" I murmured, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and let the other rest on his cheek.

"I thought you wouldn't be here" He responded quietly, dropped his forehead to rest on mine.

"But I am" I smiled, "And so are you"

"I'm sorry"

"Why?" I chuckled, "You could not have predicted any of this, Jon, you died"

"It's my fault"

I drew back again, "No it is not your fault, you did what was right and you know that"

"Lya-"

"Go out there" I told him, "Show them, show them that they did not succeed. You are alive and they failed, they deserve to die as traitors for what they did"

"Come with me" Jon almost demanded and I smiled softly.

"Always"

As he closed the door, he caught sight of the sack and the blankets, a flicker of relief crossed his face.

Ser Davos was waiting at the end of the corridor, his face unreadable as usual and we shared a brief but honest smile.

Together, we stepped outside where the brothers of the nights watch had gathered, their faces were a mix of shock, relief and intrigue. I recognised faces who had stood with us in the last few hours, defended their Lord Commander after everything.

I stayed at the top of the stairs, away from the others, not that they looked at me anyway (bar a few who just hadn't seen a female in probably forever) but most watched Jon as he walked past their confused and shocked faces.

What she had done was a miracle, but it was the right thing to do, we needed Jon. I needed him, Sansa needed him and Arya, wherever she was, needed him. All the nonsense she had prattled on about was still insane but it brought him back to us and that's all my little smile cared about as I watched him reunite with his friends.

I glanced behind me, at the wall which still stood looming above us, taunting me. I drew in a long deep breath and looked back at Jon who cast a glance to me and we shared a gaze that just said stay

Then an image of my mother, my fathers body, my brothers and sister, even Ramsay Bolton and his wretched family. Every person in Westeros that had ever frightened me, they all remained embedded in my memory, in my fears. Again, I looked over at the wall and the freedom it would permit me, I couldn't stay here forever.

This time Ser Davos was watching me, unreadable still and I could only imagine what he was thinking. Instead of trying to, I cleared my face of emotion like I was taught to, staring straight forward into the sea of brothers greeting their formerly fallen Lord Commander.

I took a long deep breath and let it out slowly and shakily.