snow training

anonymous asked:

Prompt: The Northerners watch as their King Jon Snow trains Lady Sansa for battle

They gathered at the barrier overlooking the training yard; Davos, Brienne, Podrick, and even Tormund. Podrick had first heard the ruckus when he was walking back from the servant’s quarter after trying and failing awkwardly to chat to a scullery maid there. He didn’t think anyone would be training so early in the morning with the air around Winterfell already bitingly cold at such an hour. But there they were, laughing and teasing one another as the King of the North attempted to train his Lady of Winterfell. Podrick immediately went to inform Brienne, who had been breaking fast with Ser Davos and Tormund. 

The shock of it all hadn’t been watching their king train his lady sister, but the softness in both their eyes that was undeniable even from a distance. It was with too much fondness that Jon held onto Sansa’s elbows to gently guide her in the right stance; too much adoration when he laughed as she failed to parry back with her wooden sword; but for Podrick, the most shocking of all was how open Sansa was in the moment. He had only known her for a short time, but in that time, he knew her only to be as cold as winter itself. The lady guarded herself with the strength of a Valyrian steel. But with Jon, she was easy to smile and even easier to laugh. 

“She looks happy,” Ser Davos commented, breaking the shocked silence between them all. “Being home has been good for her.” 

“Being with him has been good for her,” Lady Brienne corrected. “She has been in Winterfell for some time with Ramsay, but it only started becoming home again when Jon and her claimed it together.” 

Podrick concurred. The Sansa he had met in the woods was far from the woman he was seeing now before him. 

“Yes, perhaps you are right, m’lady,” Ser Davos said. “And I dare say she is good for him. I have not seen him so happy in a very long time. He always wants to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. With her, he doesn’t have to.” 

Tormund laughed, abrupt and loud. “Aye, too bad she’s his sister.” 

“What?” All three of them nearly shouted, only managing to keep their voices down at the last second lest they disturb the two in the yard. 

“I have seen Jon look at only one other like that,” he said, pointing to the man in question now, who was now standing a way’s back grinning proudly as Sansa executed a perfect offensive attack. Tormund turned his gaze to his companions, a wicked grin on his face. “A wildling lass. As fierce and stubborn as your lady.”

“Jon is her brother. He feels only…” But as Brienne continued to watch them, her sentence trailed off. Jon was now standing behind Sansa, his hands gently guiding her elbows and his mouth by her ear.

Tormund laughed. He waggled his brows at Brienne and finished her sentence, “with his little pecker.” 

The Wildling man then walked away, leaving the three of them more than a little confused and startled. However, Podrick had to admit in the days since Jon and Sansa reunited, he’d noticed the two become drawn towards the other even from across the room, catching each other’s eyes, smiling secret smiles and exchanging unspoken words. 

Maybe Tormund had a point – and for two people who had suffered so much, would it really be so bad?