Falling Like ✸ Jon Snow ✔

59| 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

winterfell, the north

— ALL OF WINTERSTOWN HAD GATHERED ALONG THE SIDES OF THE KINGSROAD TO CATCH A GLIMPSE OF THE ARMY MARCHING PAST. The Unsullied were indeed an impressive sight, marching in perfect step with one another in a seemingly-unending stream, broken only here and there by small groups of Dothraki.

Arya watched from the sidelines with interest, blending right in with the crowd.

Then there came a few shouts from further down. "The King! The King and Queen!"

She barely made it out, but her heart lifted with excitement still, knowing what it meant. Then she saw them.

Jon rode proud and tall atop his horse, serious eyes fixed on the road ahead. He looked older and stronger with new scars, but that was still her brother.

She'd never actually seen Nymeria Mormont before, but when her eyes landed on the woman, she understood why they called her the huntress. From her coppery skin to her silken chocolate hair done in simple but pretty braids to her pretty coat, she was captivating, but it was more than that. She radiated a particular kind of confidence and carried herself in a way that only a warrior did. Her expression, too, was one of determination, but unlike Jon, there was a playful spark in her eyes and the slight upward-curve of her lips.

You'll like her, Sansa had said.

Arya thought she was beginning to agree already.

The next two horses after the King and Queen of the North were The Dragon Queen Daenerys Targaryen herself, and her loyal knight, Ser Jorah Mormont.

The stares the newcomers were met with were not welcoming; most ranged from curious to guarded at kindest. Others looked outright judgemental and hostile.

Northerners are loyal to one another. They don't trust outsiders. It was the warning every southerner received before travelling north, and yet none of them seemed to really believe it until they were squirming under a hundred staring eyes.

Then a roar sounded in the sky above. Heads snapped upwards so quickly the elderly probably cracked their necks, several panicked shouts ringing out as two dragons swooped low over the marching men, letting out long trilling calls. They swooped over Winterfell's towers proudly, stirring up fallen snow and climbing higher and higher above the castle.

In the main courtyard, a large group of lords and ladies and stewards and guards awaited their returning rulers, Sansa Stark at their forefront. Jon's eyes locked on the serious-looking boy in the wheelchair beside her, dismounting quickly to pull his younger brother into a tight embrace.

Nymeria smiled softly at the tender moment as she handed Koda's reins to a stableboy before quietly greeting Sansa, drawing the Lady Stark into a brief hug.

"Look at you," Jon smiled at his brother. "You're a man."

"Almost."

Jon's face became quizzical for a second before brushing off the strange comment to hug Sansa.

Nymeria gave Bran a small inclination of her head. "Brandon Stark. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

He nodded. "It's good to meet you face-to-face, Nymeria Mormont."

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

"The first time I ever saw you, I was beyond the Wall. You were fighting the mutineers at Craster's Keep."

She blinked in surprise. She'd heard Sam had let Bran past the Wall, but she hadn't imagined they'd have been so close to him and never even noticed.

"Where's Arya?" Jon was asking.