Falling Like || Jon Snow

47| 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔢

dragonstone

— DRAGONSTONE WAS AN IMPRESSIVE SIGHT TO BE SURE. Nymeria had dreamed of getting a glimpse of the ancestral Targaryen stronghold since her mother began telling her stories about the ancient and powerful Valyrians when she was little. The truth was, though, she'd only been south of the Neck once, in Dorne, and having been an infant, she couldn't even remember that.

When their small boat made it to shore there was a group of Dothraki awaiting them alongside two dignitaries of the Dragon Queen. One of them, Nymeria and Jon recognised immediately, though his appearance had certainly changed some since last they'd met Tyrion Lannister.

"The bastard of Winterfell." He greeted simply.

"The dwarf of Casterly Rock." Jon replied evenly.

A brief moment of stiff silence passed before they both cracked smiles, stepping forward to shake hands. "I believe we last saw each other atop the Wall."

"You were pissing off the edge, if I remember right."

Nymeria smirked, and Tyrion glanced over at her. "Ah, the Huntress." He smiled. "It's good to see you again."

"And you, my lord."

His joking demeanour faded for a moment as he gave her a small nod. "I wanted to offer my condolences, my lady, though I know I am rather late. Your grandfather was a great man. What happened to him was a terrible injustice."

She nodded. "I thank you. I suppose we've all picked up some scars along the road."

"It's been a long road." he agreed. "But we're both still here." His attention shifted finally to the man standing a step behind Nymeria. "I'm Tyrion Lannister." he introduced.

"Davos Seaworth." Davos replied, quickly shaking the offered hand.

"Ah, the Onion Knight. We fought on opposite sides at the Battle of Blackwater Bay."

"Unluckily for me."

Tyrion turned then to the woman beside him, with cocoa skin and beautiful dark hair. "Missandei is the queen's most trusted advisor."

She nodded in acknowledgement with a small smile. "Welcome to Dragonstone. Our queen knows it is a long journey. She appreciates the effort you have made on her behalf." she glanced over them for a moment. "If you wouldn't mind handing over your weapons..."

Jon glanced over at Nymeria, the pair of them exchanging a few quick, silent looks before she faintly nodded in approval. "Of course." He replied.

Nymeria unbuckled her dagger belt, handing it over to the unsullied and removed a pair of smaller knives from her boots as well, then a small curved knife up her sleeve, then three more even smaller ones from the inside of her coat. She wasn't sure whose increasingly startled expression was more hilarious the more weapons she removed, and it took all her willpower not to laugh, instead shooting Tyrion a small smirk, knowing he was the most likely to also be holding in a snicker. Even still, she would not leave herself totally unarmed. The front of her hair was braided back out of her face today, braids held together at the back of her head by a pair of incredibly sharp pins the size of small knives. But they looked more like decoration than a threat, so no one gave them a second glance.

"Please, this way." Missandei beckoned.

As they began to walk, Davos strode ahead, striking up a short conversation with the woman before falling back to where Jon and Nymeria walked. "This place has changed."

As they made their way up to the castle, Tyrion kept up polite conversation, trying – and failing – to stave off the tension. "And Sansa?" he asked. "I hear she's alive and well?"