Falling Like || Jon Snow

18| 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢

TW: mentions of attempted s/a

castle black, the wall

— JON COULDN'T TAKE IT ANY LONGER, HE THOUGHT. Perhaps he'd been blind to Nymeria's true feelings, but he'd always been grateful to have her around... maybe even more than he'd paid attention to. He remembered training with her for the first time, how she'd smiled at him. She'd been there when he said his vows before the Weirwood. She'd dragged him back to the Wall when he'd nearly forfeit his life by trying to leave. She'd given up Longclaw, a piece of her family, of her father to him. She'd fixed him up after Craster's beating, refusing to leave him in such a way even when her grandfather ordered her to. He remembered her concern, her gentle touch, her scolding looks when he'd tried to stand when he shouldn't have, or flinched away from the alcohol-soaked rag. More recently, he remembered the warm healing hands, gentle voice and doe eyes that brought him back when he was full of arrows. It felt like a dream, but somehow he knew it wasn't.

Now, with a single stroke of stupidity, he'd ruined everything. She no longer looked him in the eyes. They did not speak. When he entered a room, she would leave it. She was right there before him, and yet he missed her so terribly.

Who would have thought that his salvation would come in the form of a summons from Alliser Thorne. It was lunch when he arrived before the head table in the hall, meaning that the room behind him was full as well... and somewhere in there was Nymeria.

"Your foray to Craster's Keep..." Alliser said. "I'll sanction it. But I won't order anyone to go with you. Volunteers only."

"Thank you, Ser Alliser." His words were bland. He knew what this was; if no one was willing to go with him, he'd face the mutineers alone. They'd kill him, and Thorne would never have to deal with him again. With that in mind, he descended the steps from the head table to face the rest of the Hall.

"Brothers." he tried. Aaand nothing. They kept on chatting amongst themselves. Then Grenn grabbed his cup from the table, slamming it down repeatedly until everyone was paying attention, silent as they'd ever be, at least until they died. Jon took a deep breath. "I'm going beyond the Wall to Craster's Keep." Nymeria's eyes lifted now. After so long without even a glance, they weighed heavy on him. He continued. "I'm going to capture the mutineers holed up there or kill them. I'm asking for volunteers to come with me. There's 60 miles of wilderness between here and Craster's, and Mance Rayder has an army bearing down on us, but we have to do this. Our survival may depend on us getting to these mutineers before Mance does. They know the Wall. They know our defences. If Mance learns what they know, we're lost. But if that's not enough... then consider this. If the Night's Watch are truly brothers," his gaze finally locked with Nymeria's, he didn't find anger there. He didn't find hate, or disgust. He found the friend that he'd missed. He found her grief. He found a granddaughter who'd lost too much, who was grateful that she was not alone in her loss. His eyes did not leave hers. "Then Lord Commander Mormont was our father. He lived and died for the Watch. And he was betrayed by his own men, stabbed in the back by cowards." her eyes shone slightly, but beneath it, a pinprick of anger had begun to grow. "He deserved far better. All we can give him now... is justice. Who will join me?" The silence lasted a small eternity. Then Nymeria rose to her feet. Her eyes stared straight into Jon's. Determined. Grateful. And as she nodded to him, he felt a stitch of relief. He could practically feel the silence between them melt away. Things would be alright. Grenn got to his feet next. Then Edd. then Blackjack. Finn. Dallin. Crod. By the time the volunteers had come to an end, Jon had at least a dozen men, and Alliser looked far less smug than he had just moments ago. "Thank you, brothers."

°

Jon was not expecting Nymeria's bear cub – who now looked more about the size Ghost had been the last time he saw him – to accompany them. But she assured him it was perfectly safe. Wren was a good hunter, she was learning to fight, and her loyalties belonged unshakably with Nymeria, the one who'd saved her. No one could deny she'd be an asset, and Thorne didn't want her at the Wall.