ser onion knight

Comfort

Imagine: being Tormund’s daughter and meeting Sansa Stark.

part two


Originally posted by daughterofwinterfell

Castle Black wasn’t your ideal home. It was dull, murky, and quite gloomy. The shitty smell of the men who refused to bath wasn’t pleasant either. Everything was dark here at Castle Black except the white snow. It hadn’t been long since Jon Snow had been brought back to life by that witch woman that only wore red.

Jon Snow was a good friend.

You care for him like he was your younger brother.

Your father didn’t like how you coddled Jon or how you acted either. You knew it was just your crazy father being protective. You weren’t stupid enough to fall for Jon Snow because the last woman who did…ended up dead.

It was early in the morning and it was another dull and dark day. The clouds were a dark shade of gray signaling that perhaps a storm was coming soon. You were with your father and the both of you were training.

You were good with a sword…your father had put one in your hands at the age of six and trained you after your mother died giving birth to your younger sister. Your father had always told you that your job was to protect your younger sister because she looked exactly like your mother.

You took from both father and mother—though most like to joke that you were lucky to gain more favors from your mother. It would always make your father mad because he’d like to think that you looked like him.

Which wasn’t favorable because your father was crazy looking.

You chuckled to yourself as you dodged the attack from your father. He had the advantage of strength but you had the advantages of being small and quick on your feet. You had also taken to taking lessons with the Onion Knight—Ser Davos Seaworth and in return you taught him how to read.

The only reason why a wildling like you could read was because your mother had the unusual habit of reading and she was the one who taught you and then when she died, you taught yourself through the books she left.

You also passed this skill along to your sister.

Your father hadn’t been very happy with his daughters reading and it was mostly due to others taunting and teasing the family. In Wildling culture, reading wasn’t a very useful asset but he continued to bring you back worn out books because it made you and your sister happy.

It was the only connection to your mother and you’d be damned to let him take that away.

“You’ve been scheming with that knight.” Your father grumbled angrily as you continuously blocked his attacks before disarming him.

Your father was great with a sword but he was rather brash and often attacked without much thought into his moves. You were obviously different. You never fought like most wildlings…wild and without grace. You thought they fought like clumsy and angry children.

You smirk at your father as he plucks his sword from the ground rather aggressively, “You should be proud that I beat you,” You say as you see Jon emerge from his room, “That means I can defend myself whenever a man wishes to steal me.”

At the mention of a future marriage he scowls, “You better fight like hell, Y/N! You are too young to be married.” He clearly isn’t pleased by the turn of events. Your father would rather talk about your red flowering then marriage.

You chuckle again as there was a sudden commotion at the main gates. You watch with interest as the gates are hauled open—the massive doors groaning quite loudly. It was then that you see three riders—two women and a man. The very strong looking woman with a grim face leads the others. The younger girl had fiery red hair and looked dirtied and sad. The young man had dark brown hair and lighter, kind brown eyes.

It was silent as they rode into the courtyard and as they dismounted you caught the eye of the younger girl. She holds herself up tall and proud as her eyes take in her new surroundings. You smile slightly because she doesn’t look impressed by Castle Black.

You’re admiring the young girl because she is really pretty but there is certain sadness that you feel coming from her. It was then that Jon is walking up to her with a dazed and slightly shocked look on his face. The red-headed girl is watching him with a strange gleam in her eyes. It was as if she was looking at a ghost.

Jon reaches her and stares.

She looks like she is ready to cry before she throws her arms around him and Jon hugs her tightly. You are unsure who she is but you couldn’t help but to smile. When they break apart, they speak to one another with happiness. You are about to go to your room that Jon has kindly given you and your younger sister but then Jon is calling your name.

You look over your shoulder and see that he is looking at you.

“Y/N, will you accompany my sister to my quarters?” It was such a strange request and as you stare a Jon with surprise it is your father who speaks.

“My daughter is no slave, Snow.” He growls standing beside you.

You roll your eyes at his behavior. You look at the girl and notice the bruises on her face and how sad her eyes look. She was way too pretty to be so sad…it reminded you of your younger sister whenever she was sad.

It was then that it clicked that this must’ve been Sansa—Jon’s half sister that had been married off to the lord who liked to skin people.

Jon had told you about her and the man she was married too.

You were surprised you hadn’t recognized her earlier. You stride up to the pair and smile at her in an attempt to look friendly. “Sansa, this is Y/N.” Jon introduced quietly as she stares at you hesitantly, “She’s a good friend and you can trust her.”

Sansa nods politely, “Hello.”

You smile a bit more, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sansa,” You say taking note of all the men staring at her, “Let’s get you to Jon’s room to get you cleaned up, hmm? Get all of this muck off of you and get you warmed up.” You say warmly as you offer your arm to her.

She looks at Jon who replies easily, “We’ll talk over some warm food.” He reassures.

She smiles softly and takes your waiting arm. The walk to Jon’s chambers is rather quiet and you can only assume it is because of the men staring. You glare at them and snap as you escort her up the stairs, “Stop staring and do something useful!” Many of the men had made the mistake of trying to flirt or touch you and you had shown them just how deadly you were.

They were quick to avoid their eyes and you could’ve sworn you heard your father laughing. Sansa looks at you surprised by how savage you look and you look back at her sheepishly, “Sorry, if I startled you.”

Surprisingly the red-head giggles, “The look on their faces…” She muses.

You grin, “My father taught me that in order for men to listen to you they have to fear you.” You say then shrug, “He’s partly correct.”

You enter Jon’s chambers and are surprised to see Ghost lounging here like a lazy mutt. He perks up at the sight of you and then rushes to Sansa’s side whining in greeting. Sansa looks down at the direwolf with a sincere smile as she crouches down to stroke his white direwolf. Her eyes are hazy and distant—as if remembering another time then the one she was in.

You give her a moment and move to re-kindle the dying fire.

“Thank you.” Sansa suddenly speaks.

You look over your shoulder to look at her, “For what?” All you did was walk her to Jon’s chambers?

She looks away from your eyes almost shyly, “I’m honestly not sure but I felt like I had to thank you.” She is blushing now and it’s so adorable that you laugh quietly.

“You’re welcome then,” You say smoothly as you grab a clean rag from Jon’s cupboards and move to the basin in the corner, “Sit down so I can clean off the muck on your face.” You instruct her.

She sits down on Jon’s bed and you wring out the rage of all of its water before moving to stand in front of her. “May I?” You ask gesturing to the rag and then her face.

She nods slowly and you begin to clean her face from the dirt and grime of traveling. You begin to hum softly and you are aware that she is watching you very closely—analyzing you. “Why are you doing this? Jon only asked for you to walk me to his chambers.” She asked a bit sharply.

You try not to smile, “Jon is like a younger brother to me, Sansa. He has always watched my back despite that I am a wildling. I owe him a lot…he saved my father’s life and my younger sister’s but I’m not doing this to repay a life debt,”

She looks suspicious now but you ignore her look, “You remind me of my younger sister and I can see that they are things that you have gone through that no young woman should. I don’t know what you’ve been through exactly but I can guess. It looks to me like you need a friend.”

“I don’t need a friend,” She snaps at you suddenly pushing you away slightly and you’re surprised by her sudden show of strength, “What I need is my home and my family and for that bastard Ramsay to be killed by my hand! Can you give me that?” She practically snarls looking like a fierce wolf.

You aren’t shocked but surprised—if not amused but you dare not show it. She glared at you and it is then that you see the angry tears bubbling up in her eyes that she is trying to fight off. You did the same thing you did whenever your sister was angry or your father—you hugged Sansa.

She begins to push you away for a few seconds but you hug her. It wasn’t long before her face is buried into the crook of your shoulder and she is crying out her woes. You simply coddle her and murmur that everything would be alright now. You tell her that she has Jon back and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

You assure her that you would watch out for her.

That is how Jon finds you both. Sansa wasn’t sure why she had let some wildling woman hold her like this and she wasn’t sure why she actually trusted this woman…but despite her better judgment, she let herself accept the comfort because she really needed it.

Originally posted by makebeliever