Falling Like || Jon Snow

39| 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔦𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡

the bay of ice, the north

— NYMERIA'S FINGERS SKIPPED NERVOUSLY OVER THE RAIL OF THE SHIP AS SHE WATCHED THE APPROACHING LAND. She couldn't be sure if it was anticipation or nerves, but she knew for certain at least that it wasn't seasickness.

"You alright?" Jon's voice snapped her from her thoughts, along with a whirlwind of assorted memories, and she offered him the closest thing she could to a smile.

"Yeah. Just haven't been back in awhile... since I joined the Watch." her eyes took on that same distant look again as they drifted back to the island and the keep. "Sometimes I wonder what it would've been like if my father wasn't disinherited, if Bear Island had passed to him and then to me."

"You would have been the greatest leader House Mormont has ever seen."

She smiled. "I'm not so sure. Lyanna seems like quite the spitfire."

"You ready to meet her?"

"Yes." all uncertainty had been chased from her voice now. Lyanna was the last of her kin. She was more than ready.

When they made shore, they were faced with a long winding path that crossed through a section of pine woods and over a lake into which a shimmering waterfall poured. House Mormont may not have been the largest of the northern houses, but their home had to be one of the most beautiful. As they walked, Sansa and Davos took the front, chatting quietly while Jon and Nymeria lingered back a few steps, taking in the scenery.

"The last time I was on Bear Island was for a party. A nameday, I think." He said after a moment.

She raised a brow. "Oh?"

He nodded. "I don't remember much, I think I must have been about nine. Lady Stark wouldn't have the Bastard of Winterfell presented to the Mormonts, and I didn't want to play with Robb after that so I snuck outside." His brows creased slightly as he tried to recall, a faint smile touching at his features. "There was someone else hiding outside too, this little girl in a ballgown. She was hiding too."

"You went down to the stream to play." She said softly, a nostalgic smile ghosting over her lips. "There were the pink wildflowers that only grow in the second last two months of the year."

He blinked at her. "How did you know that?"

"I was outside hiding from my mother and my great aunt and uncle." His eyes widened as she spoke. "My mother and great-aunt always fought because my great-aunt was very traditional and didn't approve of her Dornish blood or customs, and my great-uncle would always pull me aside when they did to tell me these grand stories about battles he fought that were absolutely made up." She giggled.

"That was you?"

"It didn't take me long to figure out why you looked so familiar when you first came to the wall." She said, amusement lingering in her tone. "As soon as I heard you were Ned Stark's son."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She shrugged. "We were kids. We hardly even talked that night. I figured you didn't remember."

"You were the closest thing I had to a friend besides Robb." His voice was quiet. "Of course I remembered."

A faint hue of pink touched her cheeks as she smiled. "Well, here we are again, I suppose. Bit more grim this time, isn't it?"

"If we live, we'll come back." He promised.

She blinked, surprised a little by the use of the word 'we'. But she nodded. She'd be glad to come back here with him someday, if their troubles ever ended.