Falling Like || Jon Snow

31| 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔰𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔯

castle black, the wall

— INSIDE THE WALLS OF CASTLE BLACK ONCE AGAIN, THE FIRST FACE NYMERIA SAW WAS SAM'S. He hurried over as she dismounted, giving Koda a pat, hesitating a foot or two away, as if waiting for permission. With a smile, she opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. "It's good to see you again." She said. "Not enough friendly faces North of the Wall."

"Not many here, either." He pointed out, only half joking. Her brows furrowed as she looked over the faces of the brothers watching the Free Folk beginning to pass through from the North and into the Gift.

Jon stood on the sidelines, giving a few brothers orders and they made their way over to his side. "It was a failure." He spoke after a moment.

"It wasn't." Sam disagreed.

"I went to save them. I failed."

"You didn't fail him." Sam nodded at one of the passing men. "Or him. Or her." he nodded to a young girl being carried by one of the men. "Every one of them is alive because of you."

"I don't think that fact's lost on them." he nodded at the brothers, who looked like they would rather spoon out their own eyes than watch the Free Folk pass in peace.

"It's not all on you, Jon." Nymeria said quietly.

"I'm the Lord Commander."

"And the Lord Commander needs friends to lean on, to share the load." She met his eyes with a steely sort of sureness. "No one can carry the weight of the world alone."

°

Nymeria trained ceaselessly in the days following their return to Castle Black. She'd train until her side ached, then train some more. She'd help with any medicinal needs, her supplies having been restocked while she was at Hardhome, have dinner, retreat to her room to check on her own wounds, then head out to the courtyard for at least another hour of training. By the end of the day, she'd flop down onto her bed, tired enough that her sleep was at least nearly dreamless. It was the third day when her training was interrupted by a voice from above.

"Nymeria." She paused, glancing up to see Jon watching her from the walkway. Setting down the staff she'd been training with, she grabbed her cloak and slung it back around her shoulders before climbing the steps towards him.

"Lord Commander." she huffed, a little short of breath.

He frowned. "You need to slow down. You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." She shrugged.

"You're not."

"Jon." She insisted. "I'm fine. If I can't fight with a few scratches then I might as well just lie down and wait for winter. What is it?"

Down in the library, Jon did his best to explain what happened at Hardhome when Sam questioned them about it. "He raised his hands... and they all stood up at once." His eyes took on a haunted sort of look as he said it. Nymeria couldn't blame him, her jaw tightening at the memory. "Tens of thousands of them. The biggest army in the world."

"So... what are you gonna do?" Sam asked tentatively.

"I'm gonna hope they don't learn to climb the Wall." He joked, though it wasn't wholehearted.

"But... the Dragonglass?"

Nymeria shook her head. "It won't make a difference. We have, what? Maybe a dozen daggers? We can't kill them all with just that." She paused, hand lifting to rest thoughtfully on the hilt of her dagger. "Although..." she pulled one free, resting it on the table. "These were able to kill a Walker." a crease began to form between her brows as she thought. "And its spear shattered an axe like glass, but Longclaw..."