Falling Like || Jon Snow

64| 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔥

winterfell, the north

— SOMEHOW, AS THE SUN ROSE, NYMERIA FOUND THE WILLPOWER TO MOVE AGAIN. In the main courtyard, there were healer's tents being quickly put up, supplies brought out from safe stores they'd kept in chambers nearby, so that on the off chance that anyone survived, they could begin taking care of the wounded as quickly as possible. Her head felt fuzzy as her feet carried her, searching every tent for a familiar face.

Then, finally, she spotted the form of a large bear, a few pieces of armour missing, but Wren was all intact. And leaning against her side was a young, dark-haired girl wiping blood from her face. "Lyanna." She breathed, incredibly relieved as she made her way quickly over to the girl. "Are you alright??"

"Not really." She huffed. "Giant cracked a couple of my ribs, I think."

Nymeria's brows shot up. "Giant??"

"Me and Wren got him."

She huffed a small, impressed breath. "You should probably let them take care of you." she said softly.

Lyanna shook her head. "Later. They have worse to deal with right now." she nodded at the closest tent, and Nymeria sucked in a breath when she spotted a familiar face inside.

"Edd." She breathed.

He stood from where a hearer had just finished wrapping gauze over one of his eyes as she rushed forward, pulling one another into a tight hug. "You made it." He said, sounding as terrified as he did relieved.

"Are you alright??"

"Wight tried to blind me. Lucky thing I've got an extra eye for the occasion. Tell me you got that horned ice fucker."

She nodded. "I got him." She assured, her voice rasping slightly with emotion.

"Hey." He pulled her into another hug and she held on tight, letting the relief sink in knowing he was alright. "Are you alright?" He asked as he withdrew.

She opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat. It felt selfish to say no when people were dead and crippled and she was in one piece... but she knew yes wasn't right either. She'd probably never been further from okay. "Have you seen anyone?" She asked instead. "Have you seen Jon??"

Edd began shaking his head, expression grave before his gaze landed on something behind her.

She turned, and there he was, ash-smudged with blood dripping from a few cuts on his face, hair tangled and armour dented, but he couldn't have been more relieved at the sight of her. And then suddenly she was colliding with him, arms wrapping fiercely around him like she'd never let go, a sob leaving her as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"It's alright." he spoke softly, though his voice shook. "It's alright."

It's not. She wanted to say. How could it be? But instead she hugged him tighter, and tried to pretend, if only for a second, that it was. That she believed it. Because she needed to believe that lie right now, more than anything.

°

Too many pyres stood before the gates of Winterfell. Not countless, but beyond the count of a broken heart.

Nymeria stood over Arryk's body, holding back tears. You're a hero. She wanted to say. You've never let me down. Never let your people down.but as the Free Folk said the dead couldn't hear them. It wasn't customary to say final words over their bodies, and for as long as she respected Arryk and his memory, she would respect those traditions. Pursing her lips as a tear slipped down her cheek, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his. Nothing could fix death. All she could do was send him on his way. Withdrawing her hand, she looked to her left and found Daenerys watching her with a miserable expression where she stood over Jorah's body. She turned quickly back towards the castle, rejoining the crowd standing there. She couldn't bear to get any closer to him, to see the ragged hole left in his chest by her own blade.