Hollow Crown ↬ Daenerys Targaryen

02

        Winterfell is much different than it was the last time Percy visited the freezing Northern Capital.

        It's high towers and thick walls stand prouder than ever before, a sure sign of change in leadership. The last that Percy heard of the North, Jon Snow had taken it back from Ramsey Bolton in the, now widely known, Battle of The Bastards.

        The cool winter air nips at his skin as he rides past the small village and closer to the gates, but he can't find it in himself to care as nervousness twists his insides. He knows the risk that had to be taken in order to find his uncle and the dragon queen, and he was fully prepared to suffer the possible consequences.

        He attempts to hide his face, snuggling it further into the nape of his shirt. Through the rough wind, he can barely make out the sound of distant shouting and the gates pulling open.

        Within seconds of stepping foot inside the gates, he's surrounded by Stark guards and Winterfell citizens as the curious people attempt to look at the visitor. He keeps his eyes glued firmly to the ground, not paying any attention to the people as he hears a few mutters of 'my lady' from someone's mouth.

        A familiar voice speaks then, loud yet elegant as ever and authority laced in between. "Part!"

        They do so on command, a few people almost tripping in their haste to clear a path for the lady of Winterfell. He dares to sneak a glance at her, slowly raking his eyes from her long legs to her Tully red hair. Her posture is much different, he notices, trying not to make his observations obvious. During her time in Kings Landing, he only ever saw her as a child, always hunched and prepared to obey any given command. Now though, it looks as if she's the one giving the commands.

        A certain sense of pride floods him as she attempts to look past his coat, speaking clearly to him as her eyes find him. "Who are you and what is your business in Winterfell?"

        There's a certain softness in her tone, reminding him that while she has definitely grown, she's still the sweet and caring Sansa Stark that he looked over in Kings Landing. Deciding not to postpone the dramatics, he reaches a frozen hand upwards, grasping the hood of his coat before tugging it down.

        Percy nearly rolls his eyes as a woman in the crowd gasps dramatically upon seeing his face. Murmurs break out amongst the people, but he can't make them all out as numerous spears are shoved in his direction.

        "Hello, little dove. Did you miss me?"

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        The sound of Stark guards feet pounding against the stone floor is the only thing heard as Percy's led towards the main hall of Winterfell.

        His wrists ache slightly from the lasting pressure of his binds, but he ignores the sting as they near the large wooden doors. Upon entering, he immediately wipes the glare off of his face at the sight of Jon Snow, the now King in The North.

        The guards shove him roughly to the middle of the room, not bothering to check and see if he landed safely before exiting the room again. The people of the North glare at him as he stands, and he would be intimidated if it weren't for the soft look that adornes Sansas pale face.

        Clearing his throat, Percy's lips part as he moves to speak. His voice dies in his throat however as the bastard-now-king beats him to it.

        "A Lannister in the North. You're either stupid or wish to die." Jon's voice is hard and calm, but laced with venom as he glares at the lion.