#wiiildliiing

“As much as that may be true,” Jon said quietly, taking the wildling by the arm and gently tugging her into a side-alcove, “that doesn’t mean I don’t feel damn bad about it. I mean - look at this place. Where’s the open ground, for Gods’ sake.” He shook his head and exhaled. He’d stuck his foot in his mouth, as usual, and he let her go and glanced around, making sure they were alone.

1. Their First Memory

Her mother’s hair smelled of lavender. Her skin was soft against Clara’s cheek as she caressed her young daughter, holding her close in her arms as if someone were going to take her away. She hummed lightly, the sound vibrating through her chest and filling her ears. The summer day was warm, but gently so. Her mother rocked her in her arms as she walked through the Godswood, murmuring sweet words to her beloved child. She shushed noisy servants away with a stern look on her face, one that she thought her sleepy daughter did not see. But she saw clear as day. The worry that someone was going to disturb this perfect moment between mother and child. Her fist wrapped in the fabric of her dress and she buried her face into her mother’s neck to drown out everything in the world but her.