When a fierce wildling meets a cunning lady, no one wants to be caught in the crossfire. Between enemies closing in from all sides, growing unrest within their own people, and their own budding romance; time was quickly running out and soon the long...
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Asena smiled softly as she watched Jon kiss his brother's forehead and then embrace his sister in a hug. Her eyes warily travelled over to the Dragon Queen as she watched Jon intently but her gaze was broken by the King in the North coming to stand in front of her.
"Thank you, for protecting her," Jon said, his hand resting on the wildling's shoulder proudly.
"What? No hug for me?" Asena teased, a smirk on her face as Jon let out a laugh.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, the two laughing as they reunited. Asena didn't miss the look the Dragon Queen gave her, the Targaryen's eyes narrowing as she watched the two embrace.
"And we both know I did more than just protect her," Asena whispered before pulling away just in time to see the appalled look on Jon's face.
"I did not need to know that," Jon said, his face scrunching up in disgust as he also tried to hold down a laugh. "Can you try not to tell me about what you and my sister do in your free time?"
Sansa caught the last bit of what Jon said, turning quickly to look at Asena with wide eyes and subtly red cheeks. The wildling woman just let out a laugh as she took a step back to stand next to Sansa, the Dragon Queen approaching them.
"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell," Jon introduced them as Daenerys came to stand beside him, noticing her not so subtle glance at Asena. "And that's Asena... of the Free Folk."
"Most call me Manslayer," Asena greeted, staring straight at the white haired woman in front of her with her head held high.
"And why is that?" the Targaryen questioned, an eyebrow raising as she looked at the wildling.
"I don't like men all that much," Asena answered, the whole courtyard seeming to hold their breath at watching the two interact.
During her stay in Winterfell, Asena had gained the respect of many of the Northerners. Even if she kept calling them southerners. They could see how willing she was to protect their lady, and by extension, the entire North. Her determination and bravery had won the respect of many around her, some even coming to accept her and Sansa's relationship.
So as they watched her and the Dragon Queen go face to face, they knew who they stood behind.
But as Daenerys nodded and let an appreciative smile break out across her face, the possibility was tossed aside and many let out a sigh of relief, Jon and Sansa included.
"Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark," Daenerys said as she turned back toward Sansa. "The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you."
"Winterfell is yours, Your Grace," the Stark woman stated hesitantly.
"We don't have time for all this. The Night King has your dragon," Bran said, interrupting the conversation.
Asena glanced incredulously at the two dragons circling Winterfell as the Targaryen turned to Bran, the wilding whipping her head back toward Sansa and mouthing 'There's more?'
"He's one of them now. The Wall had fallen, the dead march South," Bran explained and Asena clenched her jaw as her face paled and she reached for Sansa's hand, the red haired woman gripping her hand tightly as concern painted her features.
"And you say I have no decorum-" Asena muttered under her breath.
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"Why aren't you at the meeting with everyone else?" Rickon asked as he looked over at Asena, the wilding resting her head against the wall behind her.
"Seemed like there were more important things to do, like make sure you're alright," the wildling woman answered, her face full of concern as she looked at the boy in front of her. "You barely come out of your room."
"I-I can't," Rickon replied, looking down at his hands as tears filled his eyes. "I trusted the Umbers and they gave me away to Ramsay. I remember racing around and paying in the Last Hearth with Bran and Arya when we were younger and our father brought us there with him. Now whenever I step out of my room and see someone, I always wonder if they want to kill me. And whenever I look around, I'm reminded of all the people who are already dead."
"Hey..." Asena trailed off, leaning forward and resting her hands on the young boy's shoulders. "I won't let anyone hurt you, alright? So long as I'm around, no one will hurt you. And I know the memories hurt now, but it'll get better. I swear it to you."
"But you're not always going to be around, are you?" Rickon asked, finally looking her in the eye.
"What do you mean?" Asena questioned, confusion written across her face as she stared at the youngest Stark.
"Everyone leaves. Everyone dies, it doesn't matter if they're weak or strong. No one can fight death, not even you."
