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As days went by, the weather changed on the other side of the window, steam covering the glass and leaving wet traces as the little drops melted. The sky stayed grey and bleak, snowy clouds gathering in the north. It got darker and colder as if the Long Night was coming.
The one thing that didn't change was Jon and his visits.
Laying in the featherbed, Ellyn could almost hear the Lord knocking on the wooden door, see how he came in without a hesitation or waiting. He would greet her with a simple yet heart-warming my Lady, then cross the room to close the opened window, the wind lightly blowing back his already wild hair. There were days when he was troubled, tired of his kingly duties. He would enjoy Ellyn talking to him in her sweet and caring voice. Making her laugh shyly was just a simple treat. They would share their stories and Jon would assign her to read yet another book that he would have gotten her. Only hours later he would promise to see her again soon, to visit the next day, and tell her goodnight, Ellyn, while she gently smiled and whispered it back when he left.
But this night was different. She was waiting, but he had not come. She was waiting, but he was not there. For weeks his charming voice ringed in her chambers, his laugh echoed in the halls. But now it was quiet.
She held Jon's book in her hands, her fingers running along every little detail. It was old with shabby corners and yellow pages. Few of them were almost falling out, some were stained or wrinkled. But it was a good book no less - with songs of heroes and myths.
Ellyn looked at the still opened window, the winterly air filling the room. The sun had already set; it was dark outside, and only the bright moon shone over Winterfell. Wolves were howling in the far, their voices echoing in the forest.
The girl blew out a candle, sadly realising that there was no use of waiting anymore. She laid down on the pillows, listening to the nightly sounds. It was almost completely quiet in Winterfell, only snow crunching beneath some guards feet and the sound of someone locking the stables.
*
[Jon's POV]
His feet touched the stone flooring as he moved forward. Memories played again and again in his head. He had known this side of the castle very well as a child. He remembered running around with his brother Robb, playing chase and laughing loudly.
"I got you!" little Jon said joyfully.
"No, you didn't touch me!" Robb objected, facing his half-brother.
