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MYRIAH
She stared into the old mirror that stood in her chamber with mixed feelings. It was her wedding night and though she was overjoyed, she couldn't crack a smile. The gown she wore was of simple, ivory-colored sheep wool with fur of a white fox draped around her shoulders. The product of her and Sansa's hasty action of embroidering the wide sleeves and sewing fur onto their seam was not her satisfaction at all. And neither was her hair. The best the two of them could do was braiding white ribbons into it before wrapping it around Myriah's head like a crown. She longed for her mother's veil of myrish lace and the fine silver hair chains she wore at her wedding to Robb. But those were still at Winterfell if no one had found and stolen them.
"Why is it you look so upset?" Sansa asked, who stood behind her, watching her through the mirror. "Is the dress the reason why you're not happy?"
The bride felt a lump in her throat when she replied. "I just remembered what great of an effort Robb made to see me happy on our wedding night. He sent for a renowned tailor from White Harbor. And a silversmith."
"You know there is no time for that. The maester said it won't be long for your child to be born, and you and Jon should be wed by then. I am sure Jon would do the same if he had the chance to."
Myriah slightly tilted her head at that. She knew Jon wouldn't think of that. Dresses and silver and jewels weren't important to him. But she didn't explain that to Sansa. No man has ever seen a silversmith for her.
The sky outside was already turning purple and the ceremony was near. Myriah smoothed down the fabric over her baby belly and suddenly couldn't help but chuckle. "Wedding gowns are white because the color represents purity. Now, am I not a picture of purity?" She turned around to her friend, that would soon be her sister again. "How often has your mother preached to meet our husbands as a maiden on the wedding night? I am not a maiden anymore and trying to hide it would be as hard as it would be pointless."
Sansa smiled melancholically. "Come! You don't want to keep your groom waiting."
"Oh, but he has kept me waiting for the past ten years."
So they made their way to the Godswood together. It was Sansa who would give away the bride and Lyanna Mormont, as their host and Lady of Bear Island, would hold the ceremony. When she saw the handful of people that had gathered under the heart tree to attend the wedding, Myriah's stomach turned. The last time, the whole North came to see her wed. But all of that was forgotten when she laid eyes upon Jon. He turned around smiling once he noticed her approaching. The cloak Sansa made for him made him appear less lean than he truly was. Much to Myriah's relief, he had taken a bath, combed his hair and wore a jerkin of dark wool. Jon looked so very handsome like she had never seen him before.
