Rhaenyra and Daemon walking down the hallways and him cleaning up her way and killing everyone is such a mood. Keep telling me he’s a red flag but I see nothing more than a big green flag in him.
Also him being such a crazy ass dude with his dragon and scaring everyone just by his presence is just a Targaryen thing. No wonder Aerion is crazy af. Daemon is his ancestor!
Literally everyone is against Daemon but he doesn’t give a damn because he’s Daemon!
Alsoooo I cried with Rhaenyra… Girl was so young when she had Jace and now he’s gone… My baby girl doesn’t deserve that. She is such a beautiful queen (tanx Emma D’Arcy for that beauty)
And at last, the way they talk in High Valyrian to each other, her taking his hand before entering the hall, and smiling only to him is just so beautiful. Love shouldn’t just be words, it should be actions you do for one another and they show it.
synopsis: unlikely friendship begins to take root between the outcast sister of the night's watch and the dwarf of casterly rock. jon is uncertain what to make of nymeria's mischievous yet amicable nature.
warnings: oc, castle black (needs its own warning), dudes being dudes, nymeria being one of the dudes, sparring
word count: 1.4k
story masterlist
main masterlist
castle black, the wall
— "BEAR'S BALLS."
It had taken only a week for Tyrion to befriend both Yoren and Nymeria. This far North, people were so often bleak, and she enjoyed the company of someone who could keep pace with her wit, and was willing to have a laugh. So here she sat, in the midst of this conversation about the strangest thing they'd eaten.
"You're joking," Tyrion chuckled in disbelief.
Yoren nodded. "And his brains, and his guts, his lungs and his heart, all fried in his own fat. When you're a hundred miles North of the wall and you ate your last meal a week ago, you leave nothing for the wolves."
"And how do a bear's balls taste?"
"Bit chewy."
They both laughed whilst Nymeria rolled her eyes in amusement taking a sip of her ale as she sat up on the table beside Yoren. Horrible stuff they had up here, according to visitors, but she supposed it was an acquired taste.
"And what about you, milord? What's the strangest thing you've eaten?"
He scrunched his face for a moment, as though thinking deeply. "Do Dornish girls count?" He glanced at Nymeria as they laughed and raised an apologetic hand. "Apologies, my lady. I meant no offence."
She smirked. "I took none. I'd kill for a Dornish girl about now."
He gave a surprised chuckle, but made no further comment. "So... you roam the Seven Kingdoms looking for pickpockets and horse thieves and bringing them here as eager recruits?"
"Aye. But it's not all of em's done bad things. Some of them's just poor lads looking for steady feed. Some of them's highborn lads looking for glory."
"They have a better chance finding feed than glory," Tyrion remarked as the door opened and Benjen walked in.
"The Night's Watch is a joke to you, is it?" Benjen spoke up, clearly displeased as he approached to stand over them. "Is that what we are? An army of jesters in black?"
"You don't have enough men to be an army, and aside from Yoren and Nymeria here, none of you are particularly funny."
Benjen sat across from him while Nymeria took another sip of her drink, just watching. "I hope we've provided you with some good stories to tell when you're back in King's Landing. But something to think about when you're drinking your wine down there, enjoying your brothels; half the boys you've seen training will die north of the Wall. Might be a wildling's axe that gets them, might be sickness. Might just be the cold. They die in pain. And they do it so plump little lords like you can enjoy their summer afternoons in peace and comfort."
Tyrion glanced at Yoren. "Do you think I'm plump?"
Nymeria raised her brows, holding back a sigh. Oh boy.
"Listen, Benjen- may I call you Benjen?"
"Call me what you like."
"I don't know what I've done to offend you. I have great admiration for the Night's Watch. I have great admiration for you as First Ranger."
Benjen chuckled. "You know my brother once told me that nothing anyone says before the word 'but' really counts."
Tyrion's mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smirk. "But... I don't believe that giants and ghouls and white walkers are lurking beyond the Wall. I believe that the only difference between us and the wildlings is that when that wall went up, our ancestors happened to live on the right side of it."
"You're right," the ranger acknowledged. "The wildlings are no different from us. A little rougher, maybe. But they're made of meat and bone. I know how to track them and I know how to kill them. It's not the wildlings giving me sleepless nights. You've never been north of the Wall, so don't tell me what's out there." After a moment, he stood.
"You going below?" Yoren asked.
Benjen nodded.
"Keep well, keep warm."
"Enjoy the capital, brother."
"Oh, I always do."
Nymeria raised her mug with a little smile. "See you out there."
"I think he's starting to like me," Tyrion said once Benjen had gone, eliciting laughter from the other two. "'Going below'?"
"Aye," Yoren said. "Into the tunnel, and out the other side. He'll be north of the Wall for a month or two."
He nodded, looking over at Nymeria. "You're a ranger, then?"
She nodded. "Mhm. Best shot, one of the best swordsmen and," she shrugged. "I'm not as damn heavy as this lot, so, fastest rider."
"Ah," he nodded. "And how did you come to join the watch, Lady Mormont?"
"Well, after my father left I was something of a family disgrace, between his crimes and my mother's Dornish blood. Jeor seemed to think I was tough enough to survive the watch, so he took me in."
"I suppose he was right."
She ginned. "Guess he was."
"So, you're heading down to King's Landing too?" He asked Yoren.
"Aye. Day after tomorrow."
Nymeria stood, giving him a clap on the back. "Well, have fun." She offered the dwarf a nod. "Lord Tyrion."
Leaving them to it, she stepped back out into the brisk chill of the courtyard. She was about halfway to the steps on the other side when she heard the barking, and a white shape hurtled across the grounds. She gave a sharp whistle, and the wolf stopped suddenly, turning to trot towards her as he panted. She crouched with a smile, reaching out to scratch the fur around his neck.
"Hey you. What are you doing out here by yourself?"
"Ghost!"
The direwolf turned towards the sound of the voice with a small whine while Nymeria continued to pet him. His tail began to wag even faster when Jon came around the corner. He stopped short when he saw who he was with, before continuing.
"I'm sorry, my lady, he wasn't supposed to get out. He's meant to be in my quarters."
She stood with a little smile. "I know that." Her elbow bumped his arm lightly as she passed. "Lighten up, Snow. I rather like your wolf."
Ghost moved forward again to rub his head against her leg, and she chuckled, scratching behind his ears.
"Go on," she told him. "So this one will stop looking so anxious." She nodded at Jon with amusement. "It's driving me mad."
Apparently, it hadn't taken long for the message to sink in. The next day, when Nymeria was watching over the training yard, she noted the difference in Jon Snow's attitude, and in his methods too. Rather than just beating the living hell out of the other recruits, he was refraining from dealing any real blows, and instead teaching them.
They seemed to pause when she made her way down the short steps, selecting a training sword from the rack.
She raised a brow. "You're rather good with a blade, Jon Snow. Shall we give them a proper demonstration?"
He nodded, readying his own sword as she turned fully towards him. She circled slowly, the tip of her sword digging a thin rut in the snow and dirt as she went, watching her opponent carefully; how he moved, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed, the way he shifted his weight... she struck, and he blocked. Some more pacing. She struck again, twice now, and he blocked both, even parrying the second one. She evaded the blow easily and kept pacing.
Finally he lunged at her, and the real fight began. Their feet moved across the ground with perfect form. Their swords moved so fast they were almost blurs. Everyone gave them a wide berth as they moved, drawing more and more attention as they made their way through the yard.
Then Jon made a swing a little too wide. Nymeria ducked and rolled past his feet, coming up on one knee behind him and pressing the tip of her dull sword to his side, right where she knew it would bleed the most. Jon huffed a sigh of mixed resignation and surprise, and she got to her feet with a little chuckle.
"Well done," she breathed. "It's been a while since I've actually had a challenge."
He nodded with a proud little grin. "Thank you, my lady."
"Please," she snorted. "Nymeria."
He hesitated only a second before nodding again. "Nymeria."
