#lcrdcrow

‘     surely there’s somethin’ t’ be done.       ’         it doesn’t make sense.    none o’ it does.    why the wall when there isn’t a need no more for it ?    the threat has been defeated.    arya had made sure o’ it,    she did.     there is no reason for anybody t’ take the black no more,    and yet                       ‘     i   ...    i can’t do it knowin’ ye’ won’t be there.    all i am    -    where i’ve stood and m’ standing    -    i won’t be here,    i won’t,    not without ye’ agreein’ t’ take me with ye’ on that trip o’er the wall.     for sevens’ sakes,    jon,    ye’ were my king.      ’     a pause.    and then,   painfully,      ‘     and     -     i might be bold,   aye,    but    ...    ye’re m’ friend.       ’

     SEEING HIM WAS BITERSWEET. on one hand, he was alive and well. he had clearly grown into a very capable young man with honor and integrity. on the other hand, he was grown. he was not the baby that she knew but a complete stranger who she did not know. she chose to take this route, rather than try to hold onto the boy she no longer knew.   “ are you the one they call jon snow? ”

  he’s delicate, just as his mother instructs. taking the gift in his hands, jon frees it from its paper wrapping. he knows of this harp, has heard hundreds upon hundreds of stories of it fall from lyanna’s lips.

           rhaegar could soothe even the most ferocious soul with these silver strings.

           jon carefully sets the instrument upon a tabletop before turning to his mother.  “  this was my father’s. i… have you always had this?  ”

Lyanna watches her boy - for even as a man grown he’ll always be her boy - unwrap the harp. It’s painted base faded but the strings made a sound as angelic as ever. She can tell from the look on his face that he understands what he holds in his hands. 

“Not always.” Lyanna admits. “But for a long while. Barristan Selmy hid it in Kings Landing before it was sacked and brought it North the first time Robert visited Winterfell. You were three or four I believe.” She watches him set the harp down, he doesn’t know how to play, there was no teacher at Winterfell but it didn’t matter, it was his no matter if he wanted to play it or not. 

“When you were still in my womb your father used to sit in my tower room and play that for me. The first time I felt you move within me he was playing it and singing for us.”  A shadow of a smile crosses her face, her eyes slightly glazed over as she remembers. “He left for war not long after that and I haven’t heard it played since.” 

she heard jon snow’s footsteps long before his shadow made an appearance. few gathered around her nightfires anymore, but still she insisted; her visions many and power stronger than ever before ( yet she failed to find the face of azor ahai, instead flooded with that of a wolf & jon’s likeness, sometimes intertwined ). 

as if mirroring the dying of daylight, his footsteps faded into nothingness----until a discomforting silence stabbed at both mightily. she was first to break the tension with a kind smile and gesture for him to come near. “ i don’t bite, my lord,” she promised followed by the sweet mingle of her lascivious laughter.  “ come closer to the fire. “ 

he watched the battle with trembling hands and heaving chest, but he watches the unofficial coronation with something akin to pride. he knows jon will do well; in his words, he fights for the side that fights for the living, and he cherishes the lives of innocents more than anything else. what is a better trait to have in a ruler than value over the lives of their subjects?

the great hall is empty of all but his brother, and he watches him stand at the head table with his mouth pressed firmly into a firm line. even in their dreams, grief and loneliness is what overtakes them all in the end. he crosses the room slowly, passing empty tables until he reaches the front of the hall. he plants his feet to the floor, breathes in deeply.     “don’t doubt yourself. you’ll be a wonderful king, jon.”

He was meant to hide, meant to stay out of sight --- but this guy doesn’t look good. Maybe he should help? One foot after another, and Groot lets himself be seen ( the rustle of leaves may have gotten his attention first ). “ I am Groot. ”