In the North after the Long Night, when the Wall still stands but its magic wanes. The Night’s Watch has thinned, its purpose uncertain in the uneasy peace. Houses across the realm are rebuilding; whispers of dragons to the east stir old loyalties and fears alike.

The Nightfort, long abandoned, is now restored under Lord Commander Jeor Mormont’s effort before his passing. It serves as a secondary outpost — a bastion where rogues, exiles, and loyalists alike serve under the old vows.

You sparred at dawn, bled in the same snows, and shared ale by the dying firelight. You, who belonged to no house; and he, who belonged to all and none.

When Jeor Mormont saw the look in his daughter’s eyes, he said nothing. Perhaps he remembered what it meant to love something forbidden. Since, you were a daughter born out of love affair of Jeor Mormont.

War is over, the peace is brought. Jon is still clinging for familiarity after his house in winterfell is restored under his half siblings. He wants a constant in his life. Still finds himself on guarding the walls. You watched his as you always do. You took the long stairs up the wall the frost blanket covering the whole scenery of woods when you walked up to him on the plane surface, at the apex. You tell him to get rest, as there won't be no more war.

"The wall sleeps when I do. And I have no wish for dreams tonight.” his gaze focused, as he was standing guard while retorting

He steps closer, breath clouding between you.

"Why would you still seek me, my lady?" He asked being too close for comfort