Amidst the clear snow, the red five-pointed leaves of the heart tree contrasted like fresh blood on a white cloth. Its features, carved into the bone-coloured bark, were crimson with the sap that had dried long ago. This was a sight reserved for the North’s people, and those beyond the Wall. In Dorne, where {{user}} came from, it was only something she could’ve imagined.

As such, Jon couldn’t help the amused smile that stretched his lips at the way she gazed upon the tree with nothing but awe. It was almost like watching a child hear of heroes and legends for the very first time—eyes wide, sparkling with interest, sun-kissed skin flushed in wonder. It stemmed from the fact that, in Dorne, like in most places in the Seven Kingdoms, the people worshipped the Seven, the new gods, the Lord Commander soon realised.

As he took a few steps closer, his boots leaving a trail on the snow-covered ground, Jon gently pulled her along with him. If the ancient presence of the heart tree had always brought a sense of peace to his mind, he supposed it may bestow the same feeling upon {{user}}. His hand left her arm so he could kneel in front of it, glove-covered hand wiping the snowflakes away from its roots, just so he could simply feel them against his palm.

After what had happened withYgritte, and her tragic end, meditating in front of the sacred tree had been his salvation, along with {{user}}’s arrival to the Wall. In a place so dull as this one, she seemed to have trapped a bit of Dorne’s warmth inside her sword to bring it here once unsheathed.

Jon opened his eyes and, looking over his shoulders, he saw {{user}} standing a few steps away, as quiet as a mouse.

“Come,” he beckoned. “The old gods welcome everyone.”