𝓑𝓔𝓛𝓛𝓐𝓓𝓞𝓝𝓝𝓐, 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 ²

𝙀𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶

ʻ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦
𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦ʼ

NYLA STARK stands near a fire in the same tent she had a few nights ago. Even in just a few recent nights of staying here, Nyla and the girl whom Craster had groped publicly the first night - Gilly, she said her name was - had become closer than Nyla had ever been with any other person outside of her family - and Theon, though he might as well have been family. With Gilly, Nyla had found a distraction from her paranoia, and she had almost become comfortable at the camp. As comfortable as she could be, anyway.

At the moment, Nyla and Gilly stand near each other in the large tent, Nyla being further away from the group of Watchmen she had come with that the Lord Commander would've personally liked, at least in Craster's camp. Jeor stayed quiet, though, as he felt no reason to be protective anyway, as not only was Craster not in the tent currently, but he also couldn't understand why he would feel the need to protect some strange girl he only knew of and let stay with the Night's Watch because of her being such high status.

"Do you like any of them?" Gilly suddenly questions Nyla after a few moments of comfortable silence between the two young women. The question surprises Nyla, and it takes her a moment to process Gilly is asking Nyla if she has feelings towards any of the Watchmen.

"What?" Nyla chuckles and shakes her head. "No. I don't like any of them." The Stark girl smiles slightly as she turns her head from the fire over to Gilly so she can look into her eyes. "They're more like my brothers than anything." She adds.

"Oh." Gilly nods curtly, furrowing her eyebrows as if thinking about something else she wants to ask, and if she should ask it. In the end, she decides she might as well, so Gilly opens her mouth again to ask another question. "Do you like anyone? Maybe someone back South?"

This question stumps Nyla for a moment, and she has to think about how to answer for a moment, about whether she does like anyone back home or not. She thinks about Theon for a moment, but he quickly leaves her mind, as all it had ever been to her was harmless flirting and no real feelings that would lead her very far into a relationship with him. Then she remembers Jaime, and her face flushes slightly in the firelight.

"So there is someone." Gilly grins like she and Nyla are two little girls giggling about their school crushes and not two young women in a camp North of the Wall. Nyla, admittedly, enjoys this feeling, as it somehow makes her feel a sense of normalcy even in a place she feels anything but. "Well? C'mon, tell me." Gilly playfully shoves Nyla. "It's not like I'll tell anyone. I don't know him anyway." Nyla can't argue with that point, so she decides she might as well tell Gilly about it, honestly wanting to get it off her chest.

"Alright, fine!" Nyla giggles along with Gilly, putting her hands up in a mock surrender. "I'll tell you." Nyla smiles before she takes a short breath and opens her mouth to speak again. "His name is Jaime Lannister. He's stupidly charming and handsome - like it's almost frustrating how good-looking he is, and how obvious it is he knows it and uses it to his advantage."

"Ohhh~" Gilly teases and Nyla rolls her eyes, but she can't hide the smile that crosses her face. "You really like him, huh? Why'd you leave him?"

"I didn't leave him. I just had to leave for the moment, y'know?" Nyla frowns slightly, but she makes sure to quickly change the subject back to something a bit more fun to talk about that why she had to flee King's Landing to the Wall and go North. "And, if you tell anyone, you absolutely cannot tell Jon. He would, like, literally break his vows and leave just to go kill Jaime." Gilly and Nyla both giggle, trying to be quiet, but it clearly doesn't work, as the Watchmen around the fire don't bother hiding the weird looks they're shooting the young women's way.

However, as soon as the two hear the door crash open and Craster practically slams through the entry with a person-shaped figure he's dragging by his hand, they both stop laughing and they're faces go from smiles to shocked expressions. Even more so for Nyla when Craster throws the man to the ground, and the man turns out to be her younger brother, Jon Snow, whom she had been speaking of only moments earlier.

"Out! All of you." Craster barks out his order, his glare directed at the men of the Night's Watch and Nyla, who still stands at the side of Gilly, not sure what to do in this situation. "And you, you whore." Nyla has to keep herself from flinching at the man's aggression as he spits out the insult and stomps his way over to where Nyla stands. "Get your filthy Southerner blood away from my wives." Craster doesn't give Nyla a chance to respond to his words or listen to his demand, his hand raising and harshly grabbing Nyla by the hair, throwing her to the ground right next to her brother, who he roughly kicks in the abdomen as he says, "This bastard's been meddling where he shouldn't!" His head whips around to the now standing and on-guard Watchmen, specifically the Lord Commander. "I want you and your men gone. And you will make this right."

"Wait outside, the both of you," Jeor orders the two siblings as Jon stands up and spits out a mouthful of blood, offering his hand to Nyla. His sister takes his hand, pulling herself off the ground and smoothing out her hair where Craster had just previously grabbed her.

"Lord Commander-" Jon starts, but quickly shut up by the glare of Jeor Mormont.

"Now!" Jeor barks his order, and Nyla drags Jon away and out of the tent before her brother can cause any more trouble for himself or anyone else.

"By the Gods, little brother, what have you done now?" Nyla mutters to herself, though it seems Jon hears her despite her trying to stop him from doing so, as he mumbles a half-assed apology as his eldest sibling drags him away from the scene he caused.

Nyla shakes her head and sighs quietly, not saying anything more as she drags her brother by his hand so he can have his wounds afflicted by Craster properly tended to - or, at least, the best she can manage in the place they're in.