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JON
The everyday tumult in the yard was nothing worth seeing. The brothers that didn't lose their lives in the battle or laid in bed suffering from serve wounds were carrying supplies, forging weapons and horseshoes, mending the castle after the wilding attack. And apart from the Baratheon soldiers training or sitting around lazily, everything appeared to be in order.
Sam led Jon to the Common Room, where not even a handful of stewards cleaned up the leftovers from the last meal. They shot some bewildered glances at Jon. Eventhough he had done everything within his power to protect the order of the Night's Watch, they still considered him a traitor, a turncloak who should have been executed for desertion. Somehow Jon was thankful for being put on watch duty instead of helping out in the kitchen, so he could avoid their nasty comments and spiteful looks.
Yet, all of them kept their mouths shut when he entered with Sam, which would have made him wonder if it wasn't for the stranger that sat by the hearth, her back turned to him. A loose, long braid of deep dark hair flowed down her back, while her slender shoulders made it clear that she was, in fact, a girl. When she rose from her seat and turned around to Jon, he squinted his eyes in disbelieve. He could hardly adjust who stood in front of him.
Wide-eyed, she placed a clay bowl of soup on the edge of a table so sloppily that it fell and clunked on the floor. "Jon" She breathed before she rushed off into his arms.
His hand ran through her black hair trying to comfort her as much as he could during the few moments of their embrace. Holding her tight, he feared she might fade away, like a specter, an illusion. Both their hearts beating as loud as war drums in their chests only showed Jon that she was none of that. Jon had never expected to see her again, but there she stood. His sweetest friend, Myriah Martell.
Once they let go of each other, he got to take a closer look at her face. Most of her childlike features had disappeared; her chubby cheeks had turned into sharp jaw- and cheekbones, her little stub nose was now more pointed than he had remembered it. Yet, her moss green eyes were the same, only that they were full of sorrow.
"You have grown." Was the first thing that came to his mind and she gave him a wry smile for an answer before Sam next to them cleared his throat, reminding them that they weren't alone. All the other stewards were staring at them. "May we be left alone for a moment?"
The brothers groaned and dropped the pots and plates on the table, leaving the room after everyone gave him a bothered look. Sam only nodded, closing the wooden door behind him.
"What are you doing here?" He inquired with a sigh of sorrow. Out of all places she could have gone, Myriah chose to come to Castle Black, which was certainly not a place to be for someone like her. "Why are you not at home with your father and brother?"
