[ She's so entranced by the shimmering crystals that it takes a moment to register that some of the flickering light dancing on them isn't from her own torch, alone. Her eyes follow the light of the other to the one holding it aloft, and a soft gasp leaves her when she sees him. ]
...Jon. [ After their adventure beyond the Wall, of her mourning for the loss of Viserion and the simultaneous soul-crushing relief that he's alive, she can't in good conscience refer to him as my Lord or Lord Snow or any of the other titles that confer anything other than a polite formality.
They have been beyond the northernmost hinge of the world and fought against what must be one of the Seven Hells. He is Jon, now.
Impulsively she reaches for him, drawing him into a tight embrace. Over his shoulder, the questions come: ] How are you here? — For how long?
[ She has so many of them, she doesn't have any idea where to start. ]
❤ perfect!
...Jon. [ After their adventure beyond the Wall, of her mourning for the loss of Viserion and the simultaneous soul-crushing relief that he's alive, she can't in good conscience refer to him as my Lord or Lord Snow or any of the other titles that confer anything other than a polite formality.
They have been beyond the northernmost hinge of the world and fought against what must be one of the Seven Hells. He is Jon, now.
Impulsively she reaches for him, drawing him into a tight embrace. Over his shoulder, the questions come: ] How are you here? — For how long?
[ She has so many of them, she doesn't have any idea where to start. ]