Disclaimer: Yeah no. I own nothing.
The minute they enter the camp they are surrounded by a knot of heavily armed Wildlings. They are bristled looking and terrifying at first but on closer inspection Maya can see that they are all run-down and tired. A large, solid looking man with wild red hair and an equally disheveled red beard steps to the front and addresses Jon with no particular malice though his language is rough. They are then conducted to Mance Rayder's tent. Until they enter no one even spares a glance at Maya.
Mance fixes his eyes on her after Jon has explained that he is only there to treat for a cease fire. Jon notices and moves slightly to the side and offers a hand to help Maya forward. Maya doesn't actually need the help, but she recognizes that the picture it creates is that she is a proper lady, the kind that implies education and the kind of training she would receive as a healer. It also cements her in to the least threatening version of herself she can possibly appear to be.
"This is Maya," Jon introduces. "She's a healer."
Mance grunts. "A healer from back on the other side of that Wall. What reason could you have girl, for wanting to patch us up after it's your lot whose been slaughtering us?"
Maya meets his gaze levelly and does not flinch despite the less than friendly tone. The King Beyond the Wall is direct, she can work with that. "A dying man, woman, or child is still a dying man, woman, or child no matter which side of an ice wall they're born on," she says. "If I can save a life or ease a dying man's suffering I'll do it. Walls and boundaries be damned."
The Wildling King considers her for another long moment before nodding. "My woman Dalla is giving birth a few tents away," he states. "They've called a midwife but births are always dangerous. Whatever medicine you've got I want you to use on her, understand?"
Maya flicks a quick glance over to Jon who gives a small nod and then she turns back to Mance to give her agreement. In the next moment she has been whisked out of Mance's tent, out in to the cold air, and then back in to a new tent where the air is stiflingly hot. Maya has to stop for a moment and blink at the quick transition and loss of lighting before she can concentrate on what's actually in the room.
A women Maya guesses is Mance's wife Dalla is reclined on a large pile of furs, face flushed and contorted in pain. A wisened old woman who is missing most of her teeth stands over a large pot of water that has been set to boil whom she learnes is the midwife. A taller woman with a long blonde braid introduces herself as Dalla's sister Val.
Maya isn't sure she knows much about medicine or birthing a child, but she ends up being glad for the other girl's presence as it turns out that she is the only person in the room truly capable of bridging the language gap. The midwife doesn't know a word of Common Tongue, and Dalla is too consumed with birthing pains to form most words regardless of language. Maya grew up knowing Common Tongue and prides herself on having picked up Dornish and Valyrian over the years, but she never learned any of the various Wildling langauges. Val becomes the only avenue of communication she has.
The birth is Dalla's first and by all the gods does is it long. It's also the first birth that Maya has ever handled by herself and the third she's ever witnessed. All of the blood and strain stretches her nerves to the very edges of their tolerance and more than once she knows she's on the verge of panicking completely. How she manages to keep herself together is completely beyond her own comprehension.
Bringing Dalla's baby in to the world is complex and absolutely exhausting and for the longest time Maya is almost convinced that the babe simply won't be coming in to the world today. The end product though, turns out to be totally, completely, worth it. A tiny, red, squalling, mess of a newborn with a tuft of black hair joins the occupancy of the tent and the wave of relief that flows over Maya at the sound of the child's tiny cries seems strong enough to carry her off her feet like a physical push.
Maya cleans the baby and checks his breathing and eyes before placing him on Dalla's chest wrapped in the softest bit of cloth she could locate. She also chekcs Dalla's heart and breathing and leaves a package of herbs and a water skin with Val with detailed instructions on how Dalla whould take them. Val listens attentively and repeats back what she's been told to demonstrate that she understands it, looking to Maya for confirmation that she has the information correct. Maya nods, knowing that with this successful birth she has gained an alie at the very least.
Then she stumbles out in to the fresh air, needing to escape the oppressive warmth, dim lighting, and the scent of blood. For a long moment she simply stands with her eyes shut, taking in the air and enjoying the cold bight of the wind on her face and the soft brush of snow on her exposed skin. With one more deep breath she opens her eyes and gasps. For a moment she wonders if she's passed out from tiredness, or if the strain of the day is making her see things.
The sight she is greated with is completely different from the look of the camp she had first walked through with Jon. Braziers and small structures have been knocked over and trampled. Horses whicker and whinny and dogs bark. Men in the thick leather and plate of Westerosi knights stride back and forth about the camp wearing Baratheon colors. Wildlings are scattered about trying to pick up the scattered debris.
Upon seeing this Maya decides that it might be best if she keeps out of sight as much as possible. She doesn't have to go far (which is damn lucky as she probably couldn't get far anyway) to find some fresh snow and uses it to rub blood and birthing gore off of her hands. Her clothes are safe as she removed her overdress and cloack near the beginning of the birth.
She's getting ready to gather herself to slip back in to the tent to perform a final check on Dalla and her baby when one of the armored soldiers begins to make his way towards her. Maya debates weather she should dodge away but eventually decides against it. The man seems more intent than anything else and a gut instinct tells her that this man is no immediate threat despite his rough appearance.
He wears the armor of a Baratheon and there is a large broadsword hanging at his side. He has one hand resting on the pommel and a quick glance at his other hand reveals that his fingers have been cut off at the second knuckle. Maya knows enough about the who's who of Westeros to recognize these markers as meaning that the man is Davos Seaworth, made famous by his actions during the Uprising.
"Lady Mormont?" he states the title like it's a question and Maya understand why. Despite her best efforts her skin is still stained with gore. Her hair has fallen out of it's braid and multiple strands hang loose to just above her hips. She also knows she's flushed and sweaty and all in all looks a mess.
The title also makes her pause, it's almost shocking to hear again after so long. She knows instinctively that this is a moment that she can't return from. If she acknowledges her position at this moment it will be impossible to take it back. She will not be able to be "just Maya" again while she remains in the North. Still though, she isn't at all sure that she knows how she's supposed to be "Lady Mormont" again either. "Yes?" she says slowly.
Ser Davos takes her confirmation in stride and Maya decides she might just like him better for it. He steps closer to her and his fingers flex on the pommel of his sword. "His Majesty King Stannis Baratheon would like to speak to you," he announces. He hesitates over some of the words as though he still has trouble getting his mind and his tongue around all of the words.
Maya realizes that they are on equal footing here. Both of them are fumbling for the strict protocol of courtesies that they are meant to follow and neither are quite sure that they are managing it correctly. She decides that instead of making things more complicated she will do her best to play her role just as he is. "Of course My Lord," she says, dipping her head respectfully. "Would you perhaps permit me a moment to make myself presentable? I fear assisting a birth is a rather indelicate business."
The Onion Knight dips his head in return. "Of course My Lady," he replies formally. "Though I do have to ask that your moment be a small one. King Stannis is eager to continue his march to Castle Black and our only Sworn Brother refuses to start before he's seen that you're alive and well."
"Jon?" she asks. It's a break of proper courtesy to use Jon's first name but Maya doesn't particularly care. Ser Davos' implication that Jon is alive brings every worry she has been repressing for the past several hours to the forefront of her mind in sharp focus. "Is he-"
Davos lifts a hand to stop her mid query. "Alive and well My Lady," he assures. "Though the sooner he sees that you are as well the sooner we will all be on the other side of the Wall, and that much safer for it."
It's not a very subtle prompt to hurry up and be ready to go but Maya takes it gracefully for what it is and slips back in to the tent. She uses a fresh pale of melted snow to scrub the rest of the gore off of her skin and quickly re-dones her cloak and overdress. She manages to convey a request to Val and the Wildling women lends her a rough comb and helps her to recapture her hair in a simple braid. Maya thanks her with a smile, picks up her bag, and bids the women and the new baby goodbye before rejoining Davos outside.
The wind had picked up and Maya was fairly sure that the temperature had dropped. The sky was a cool, steely grey that seemed to have sealed in the entire camp. Maya squinted up at the sky and found a seamless mass of clouds. Stray pieces of hair keep whipping in to her face as they walked and by the time they make it to the command tent Maya is freezing.
The air in the tent is much warmer and it washes over her like bath water. She barely has time to look around before she her feet are suddenly leaving the ground and her vision is obscured by the tangled black fur that edges Jon's cloak. Maya relaxes in to the hug and squeezes back for a moment before Jon lowers her back to the ground and takes a quick step back.
"Are you alright?" he asks in a low tone.
"Fine," Maya assures. "No one came near the tent. I didn't even know anything had happened until I walked outside and saw the soldiers." She looks him up and down carefully. She can see no sign of any blood, and he picked her up easily enough, but his dark clothing would go far in concealing blood and it wouldn't be too unlikely that he would ignore bodily damage. "You are unhurt?" she checks.
Jon nods and further steps away, revealing the rest of the tent to her. The floor of the space is covered with rushes and well worn furs. Small fires burn in multiple corners and there are several tables set up in the middle of the space. On top of each table are huge maps and the kinds of oversized chess pieces that Maya knows are used to plan battles. A large, ornately carved, wooden desk with an equally impressive carved chair behind it sit along one wall.
In that chair resides King Stannis Baratheon who is looking out at Jon and Maya with an expression of slightly impatient bemusement. Davos has taken up his customary place at his King's right shoulder, hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. Maya begins to suspect that the action may simply be habit more than it is a preparation to use the weapon.
Maya dips her eyes as respectfully and demurely as possible and dips the most graceful curtsy she is capable of. "I beg your pardon Your Grace," she says calmly. "Neither I nor Lord Jon meant any disrespect. Today has been... rather trying."
"Rise Lady Mormont," King Stannis says. It's the kind of command that speaks of practiced authority. However, Maya spent much of her childhood in the household of a man who sat on a throne and possessed a crown. She knows what a tired King sounds like, and Stannis Baratheon is very close to being exhausted. "I understand you helped to deliver a babe today," he continues. "Tell me, were you successful?"
"The mother and the baby were both hail and hearty when I left them," Maya reports. "I cannot say that the danger is truly passed, but both survived the birth."
"More than can be said for some," Stannis muses.
Maya nods. "Indeed Your Grace."
With that her part as a crucial member in the conversation is essentially over. Stannis turns to Jon and begins to quiz him about the Wildlings, their armies, their plans, and the conditions at Castle Black. Ser Davos enters the occasional query or insight in to the dialogue and Maya stands quietly. She's almost numb with exhaustion after the day she's had but the part of the whole situation that rings most in her ears is that she's been dismissed. She was summoned and addressed as a courtesy and then relegated to the side. It irks her, and sets something crawling under her skin.
She knows that as far as being a high born girl in Westeros she has been in some ways remarkably lucky. She's been raised and educated well and brought up in a household wherein her opinion was generally listened to and considered when what she had to say was valuable. In return Maya knew her own spheres of knowledge and when her insight was useful. It was one of the few benefits of being raised in a wealthy House without technically being a part of it.
As Maya the healer she can essentially go where she likes, say what she thinks, and in many ways act freely. Being Lady Mormont is a very different story. Lady Mormont is, she is gathering, meant to sit quietly and listen enough to understand what is going on but not comment on it. When the time comes Maya imagines that Stannis will also ask her to pledge her support. Maya wonders somewhat bitterly how disappointed he might be when he finds out she's had no contact with her Northern family for almost a complete decade.
The conversation ends with Stannis' remaining questions satisfied and Jon having assured escort back to Castle Black.
Maya will say this for Stannis Baratheon, he keeps his word. All of his forces along with all those Wildling's left alive and kept as prisoners along with Jon and Maya are packed up and ready to leave before the sun has moved very far in the sky. Maya and Jon were given horses for which Maya is grateful though she wonders who is walking instead as she doesn't think Stannis' forces had the horses to spare. All things considered the trip back to the Wall is considerably faster than the walk to the camp had been that morning.
Gods, had it really only been that morning?
Once they arrive back at Castle Black Maya slips away back to the quiet of her chambers for a few moments of wistful peace before slipping down to the hall for the quickest dinner she can manage. She doesn't leave the room again before dropping in to a deep, dreamless sleep. She has a feeling that the next morning will be busy.
She isn't disappointed.
Starting at dawn she and Maester Aemon are both inundated with a flood of Sworn Brothers, each suffering from a different variety of injury or malady. She does her best for each of them, even those who frown and scoff at her the rest of the time. The day quickly slides away form her and when evening finally comes she is glad that she has a reason to stay inside and out of the courtyard. She's heard all day through various whispers that Stannis plans to burn Mance Rayder alive for his rebellion. Maya has no desire to watch.
She's taking advantage of the emptiness inside the castle to make her way to the kitchens for fresh water uninterrupted and nearly runs in to Jon as he makes his way up the stairs. His long bow is in his hand and he doesn't speak as he strides past her. The expression of cold determination on his face is enough to make her forgo her water and spin on her heel to go after him.
"Jon?" she calls, questioningly. "Jon?"
He continues to move, giving no sign that he hears her voice until he reaches a ride window overlooking the courtyard. Jon stops and throws open the window forcing Maya to stop to. She follows the line of the arrow that Jon has knocked and gasps. The fire being used to murder the King Beyond the Wall is crackling with a sort of savage glee. Chocked screams of pain permeate the air over the hissing, popping flames.
Jon lets the arrow fly.
The screaming stops.
Maya turns back to Jon as he slowly lowers the bow. She takes a chance and places her hand on his drawing arm, urging his fingers to release the string. His eyes aren't exactly empty, or unfocused, but they don't exactly seem to be seeing her either.
She tries to put herself in to his perspective but it just doesn't work very well. No matter what battles she has ever helped with, what training she's been given, or how much blood she has seen pouring from the wounds of those she treats, she has never taken a life. She has never struck out with a weapon and stolen someone's future. She has never killed, even out of mercy.
"It was the right thing to do," Jon says hollowly. "I knew Mance had to die but not- Not like that. That was punishment, not justice."
He sounds exhausted and tired and so completely run down that Maya has no idea what to do or say. She glances back out at the courtyard and sees a number of blank, indistinct eyes turned from the flames to Jon as he still stands in the window. She's knows she's still hidden in shadow, but enough people have seen Jon to know that the arrow came from his bow. They needed to move.
She tightens her fingers around Jon's and gives a small tug. "Come on," she tells him. "We need to leave." Maya leads him to the kitchen and draws the water she was going to get in the first place. Jon retrieves a loaf of hard brown bread and offers her a large chunk of it.
They pick at the food in silence. Maya guesses Jon simply doesn't have the energy or motivation to speak. She doesn't tell him that the choice he made will have consequences that may be dire, doesn't say that he might have just made a powerful enemy in the form of King Stannis. He knows already. Voicing the thoughts out loud won't help. It's a bad situation, and picking it over with words won't fix it if there's no possible solution.
It's almost like a scab she thinks. It may not necessarily be beneficial to leave it alone, but picking it off would almost certainly make it bleed.
Time next day both Jon and Maya are called to speak with King Stannis. The King has overtaken the empty rooms set aside for the Lord Commander. The new one will be chosen later that night. As King Stannis looks imposingly out at them, Maya wonders idly which rooms the King will establish himself in once it's happened. Her presence at the meeting is a bit confusing to her. Stannis has already proved that he doesn't much care to include her in discussion.
She thinks she has her answer to the question of her presence when Stannis begins by telling Jon off for going against his orders. Maybe she hadn't been as hidden in shadows as she had thought. But, Stannis still doesn't address her as he explains to Jon that he had wanted the Wildlings to fight on his side. Jon states, quite accurately in Maya's opinion, that the Wildlings will never follow Stannis after he burned Mance Rayder alive.
That is when Stannis finally turns his attention to her. He holds out a scroll of parchment to her and says, "I suppose you know this girl Lyanna Mormont? She'll be a cousin of yours or some such relation?"
Maya frown but she does recognize the name. She had attended the celebration of the girl's birth. She had been seven years old at the time, and her family had left for Braavos barely six moons after Lyanna had been born. "I believe that Lyanna is the daughter of my Great Uncle," she replies evenly. Stannis seemed non to pleased with Lyanna whatever the letter contained.
"The Lord Commander's niece," Jon concludes.
Stannis gives a grunt of confirmation. "At the moment the Lady of Bear Island and a child of ten," he mutters. "I've asked her to commit her men to my cause that's her response."
Maya unrolls the curled piece of parchment and reads the words on the paper. The letters are slanted and untidy and Maya guesses that it must have been written in Lyanna's own hand. It hits her with a pang that holding this piece of paper is the closest she's been to anything relating to the House of her birth since her parents deserted her in Braavos. The message reads Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark.
The message is followed by the seal of the Mormonts, a rearing bear set in wax. Here we stand, she thinks. Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.
Jon reads the message out loud over her shoulder and their is a note of amused humor in his voice that Maya has rarely heard there before. Stannis' head shoots up. "That amuses you?" he snaps.
Jon controls his laughter and his smile is slowly swallowed, vanishing quietly in to the other lines of his face. Maya thinks it's a shame to see it go. Jon looks years younger when he smiles. "I'm sorry My Lord." He says it with respect but the humor is not completely gone from him yet. "Northerners can be a bit like the Free Folk," he continues. "Loyal to their own."
"I know," Stannis says resignedly. "Robert was always going on about how difficult it was to manage. Even with your father helping."
"Why show this message to us?" Maya asks. She knows it's a rude action for her to do something that could be seen as interrupting a king, but it doesn't seem like the question will be truly addressed if it is left to Stannis to get to answering it by himself. Jon backs up her inquiry which Maya suspects may be the reason her rudeness goes unaddressed and she is grateful for the intervention though irritated at it's necessity.
Stannis leans forward slightly across the desk when Jon states that everything he has is sworn to the Night's Watch. Maya looks down at the floor and tries not to frown or wince when he states that he has nothing left to give. "You can give me the North," Stannis says and Maya's head jerks up. He even meets her eyes. "Between the two of you it would work."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Jon protests. "I'm a Bastard. A Snow."
"Kneel before me," Stannis says simply. "Pledge me your sword and you shall rise again as Jon Stark. Lord of Winterfell."
Maya looks at Jon whose gaze is locked on Stannis in shock. She understands the feeling. She is not the one who may be legitimized as the ruler of an entire kingdom and even she feels as though the bottom has dropped out of her stomach. Maya has suffered many shocks in her lifetime but this offer of Stannis' is... frankly incredible. The King has offered Jon a new life, the perfect new life in exchange for something as ephemeral as loyalty. Proven, she is sure with swords with which to lay siege to the Lannisters.
"And me?" she asks quietly.
Stannis turns his pale eyes to her and Maya hopes that Jon uses the moment outside of his scrutiny to compose some sort of answer to the choice laid before him. "What about you?"
Maya shrugs. "Where do I fit in?" she asks. "You win back the North from the Boltons and Jon announces himself Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Thus delivering to you the full might of all the Northern Houses with which to wage your war. You'd get the Starks, the Umbers, Manderlys and more. It is a good strategy. What purpose do I serve? You'd not have called me here and shown me this message," she holds up the paper she still holds in her hand. "If I was of no importance to you."
"You can bring me Bear Island," he says. "Ride North with my army. I'll send an escort to return you to your home and once there you can claim your legitimate birth right."
She shakes her head. "That is not enough," she states. "The Mormonts are strong but the House is small, and the island itself is no great well of resources. You'd get some good timber, maybe a hundred fighting men. Not enough to make any true difference." She takes a half a step forward. "And all due respect Your Grace," she says as courteously as possible. "But you have seen the result of what happens when families turn on each other instead of fighting together as one. I'll not go against Lyanna, no matter how little I know her."
Stannis shrugs as well, apparently unconcerned by her statement or her perception of his plans. "No matter. You may yet be able to convince your cousin to change her mind. You My Lady are heir to considerably more than Bear Island."
Maya frowns. "You are speaking of House Hightower?" she questions. "Perhaps they would follow me as their Lady though it's unlikely." This is a matter that Maya has actually considered before when debating which of her Northern family to seek out and investigate first. She had avoided her mother's house out of the assumption that no matter how loyal the bannermen were to House Hightower they'd not follow the daughter of a Northern traitor simply because she was also the sole remaining grandchild of their last great lord.
"Not quite My Lady," Stannis says politely.
Maya freezes and wonders where exactly the King means to take this particular discussion next. Jon interrupts the flow of the conversation at that moment, asking for time to consider the offer made to him and Maya uses the opportunity to slide quietly from the room when Jon leaves. Regardless of what will happen in the future it doesn't have to happen immediately.
By unspoken agreement they both stop at the same window from which they watched Mance Rayder burn. "What are you thinking of?" she asks quietly when they have both stood for long enough that she can no longer stand the silence pressing in at her ear drums.
"I don't know what to think," he replies honestly.
Maya lets out a long breath and it comes out shakier than she had expected it would. "Stannis offers you everything," she says quietly. "Everything."
"Maybe," Jon says. "But I don't think anyone can ever have everything. All my life I've wanted to be Jon Stark but-"
"Now that you might have it you are afraid," Maya guesses simply. "Maybe you are right to be. But Jon," she steps closer to him before she can check the movement and then it can't be taken back. "I dare say that you will not get the chance again."
Jon remains silent for a long moment before he speaks again. "What did Stannis mean when he said that you were heir to more Land than that of your fathers?" he asks suddenly. "I interrupted him and we left before you could answer but he was talking about lands and titles. The Northern Houses are loyal to House Stark I understand what he wants from me in exchange for what he offers. What does he want from you?"
Maya shakes her head. She doesn't truly know how to answer. "I don't know," she tells him truthfully. "My mother was Lady of Hightower, daughter of the lord of the House. My father won the right to marry her on a tournament day and my grandfather accepted the proposal. He and much of that portion of my family is dead now if reports are accurate. Fighting in the same war that claimed your brother I suppose."
"I'm sorry," Jon murmurs, and this time it's he who has to check a motion halfway through it's completion, his hand moving as though to take hers before dropping back to his side. He flexes it open and closed a few times as though trying to decide what to do with it instead. Maya makes the choice for him and extends a hand to twist her fingers with his.
"It is not your fault," she tells him. "Anyway, House Hightower might in theory follow me if there truly is no one else left in the family to do so. However, they also may not just as easily. I sought to perhaps go to Oldtown to see if any of the family remained when I came here from Dorne. I planned to make my way there after I had inquired after my father's family on Bear Island, I thought perhaps they would be kinder if there were any left."
Jon frowned as he so often did, the well practiced crease forming deep between his eyes. "But you ended up here," he states.
"I chose to come here," Maya corrects. "I did not have to help you Jon Snow. It was my own decision, one I would make again." She gestures around at the walls of the castle that stand solid and weathered around them. "I have done good things here I think, " she muses. "I will continue to do good things here until I either must leave, or choose to do so. My family cannot die again. Those who remain alive will be safe enough now that the War of Five Kings is over. Bear Island and Old Town cannot move."
"So you'll not go with Stannis North and on to Bear Island?" he asks.
Maya bights her lip. "I do not yet know," she says. "He offers protection on the journey which may be worthwhile, though the price he asks for it is rather high. I will never attempt to take Bear Island from Lyanna by claiming it for myself. It as much hers by rights as mine after my father was exiled." She releases his hand and steps back from him in to the hallway. "You ought to go and find Sam," she tells him. "Tell him of all of this. I think he will council you better than any other might."
There is nearly half a hallway between them before Jon calls out. "Maya," he calls. He uses her first name and it is enough to make her stop and turn back to him. "If- If you do go to Winterfell, write to me. Just, tell me that it is still left standing."
She faces him fully and allows a small smile. "If I go," she speaks, stretching the if. "I shall tell you about each brick in the wall if it will help." She doesn't specify help with what. Jon spends so much of his time acting as a fully grown man, carrying a man's burdens, worries, and pains. However, underneath all of that he is a young man of perhaps twenty years who has lost the entire family of his birth, is disliked by half of the family of his choice, and has never truly felt a sense of belonging in either.
Her promise made she once again turns to leave and this time he doesn't stop her.
That night the vote is made for the next Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Maya avoids the entire process and keeps herself away. Her presence in the room while the men of the Watch choose sides behind which to assign their loyalty will not help matters for anyone, especially if Ser Allister wins which Maya assumes he will. The former knight dislikes her entire presence and the longer Maya can go without putting herself in his path the better. She hopes, perhaps naively, that if Allister forgets that she exists, he will forget to force her from Castle Black until she has weighed her options in leaving.
Then Jon wins and Maya feels frozen. For much of her life Maya has been able to plan ahead and guess what she should do next. She used to assume that she could sometimes predict the actions of others. This though, Jon becoming Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, it throws her for a complete and utter loop. Maya doesn't know how to react. She knows that from an objective standpoint this benefits her. It could be assumed that this makes her safe. However, it could also in theory make her a target for all those within the watch who voted for Ser Allister.
It also means that Jon can never leave. Not now.
Not that he ever could, but this feels somehow more permanent and binding. Maya absolutely refuses to examine how that makes her feel. She can feel something growing, twisting around her heart and one of the few things she knows with absolute certainty is that whatever that feeling is it can not be permitted to stay. It needs to be tied up inside a little box and packed away in a dark corner if she can manage it.
She can not afford for her life to be any more complicated.
One of the first things Jon does as Lord Commander is ask her if she would like for him to send an escort of brothers to take her safely to Bear Island. She refuses and tells him that if he plans to infuriate even more people within the Watch he must do it over something more important. It turns out to be a good decision, as the next major decision that Jon makes results in Ser Allister becoming First Ranger and Jon having to execute Janos Slynt. With that a whole other selection of possible friends and supporters is likely lost to Jon for good.
The rest of the possible support Jon may have falls away quickly when he makes his alliance with the Wildlings. Maya feels helpless. It feels as though pieces of the safe island she has built are dropping away in chunks beneath her feet. She counsels Jon to do what he believes he must and hopes desperately that what Jon feels he must do does not result in his death.
And hers come to think of it.
She spends spare time with Princess Shireen and the two of them together work on teaching Gilly to read. They have better luck than Sam did but Maya suspects that Sam does not know quite how to teach something that comes to him so easily. Maya also does her best to occupy Olly so that he stays away from Allister and his group. She can somewhat understand the boys anger, but she is also wary. She knows that anger in a young boy can be incredibly dangerous.
Shireen spends much of her time following along behind Maya when the two of them are not teaching Gilly to read. The little girl peers at her herbal mixes and watches her take inventory, even trying to help in her own small ways. Maya enjoys her presence and entertains Shireen's questions. She has a lively mind and Maya enjoys having more and more people to talk to.
Ghost has become her other constant shadow. Since Jon was chosen to lead the Night's Watch Ghost has been set free to wander as he likes and where he likes is apparently her side when he is not out hunting. The huge white wolf pads along silently next to her leaving large tracks behind in the driven snow. Every once in a while he nuzzles at her fingers and Maya rubs the soft fur of his neck and behind his ears. It is something of a double edged sword. No one tries to bother her when Ghost is with her, but the Direwolf has taken to bearing his teeth when certain people approach her and waiting outside of doorways for her to come out if he can't fit through them. She is left alone, but she can no longer pass without being noticed either.
Maya sees Jon smile once when he notices Ghost's new habit but denies involvement when she asks him if it is his doing.
When Jon resolves that he will in fact go to Hard Home with Tormund she decides that it's time to leave. Half of the Watch dislikes her simply because they dislike Jon and she arrived at the Watch with him. Hate by association is a powerful thing. The older members of the Watch don't trust her presence simply because she's the only female to take up a semipermanent residence within the walls of Castle Black. With Jon in the Castle as Lord Commander and with Ghost following her, none of them try anything. However, Maya is smart enough to know that the moment Jon leaves it will be a very different story.
She tells Stannis that she's taking him up on his offer of traveling with him to Winterfell and a later escort back to Bear Island. Jon accepts the news with a resigned expression but says nothing to discourage her. Instead he simply wishes her safe travels and says the traditional wish between two travelers that they will meet again. Maya parrots it back to him and tries not too notice the sharp twist in her chest or how hollow the words feel.
The only one who is truly, innocently pleased by the turn of events is the Princess Shireen who bounces up and down on the balls of her feet with excitement and squeezes Maya in to a tight hug. The girl is still a child and yet is very nearly the same height as her. Maya hugs her back and over the top of Shireen's head catches two people watching the interaction. Shire en's mother is glaring at the whole exchange with an expression akin to a woman who had just been told to pick up a handful of centipedes while sucking on a particularly unpleasant lemon. The other watcher is the Red Woman Melissandre who is watching the exchange with a small self-satisfied smile as though everything is all going perfectly according to her plan.
Maya can't decide which of the two reactions is more frightening.
The journey from Castle Black to Winterfell could best be described as awkward. Maya can't deny that a part of her enjoys being out on the road. Moving in a direction, any direction feels better than simply sitting still. After all, spending time with her Northern family was the reason she left Dorne in the first place. Besides the dangers of the road can be more easily seen and defeated than the political machinations stirring and bubbling within Castle Black.
She spends most of her time with Shireen. She suspects that Davos is the one to arrange for the proximity and Maya finds that she doesn't actually mind. The former smuggler treats Shireen like his own daughter and Maya knows that the Princess has been lonely for an incredibly large portion of her life. Davos is trying to help heal that wound and Maya is a healer, no matter the method or capacity that that healing takes.
Shireen loves stories and books and has gone through every one that she owns. Maya tells her stories and fairytales that she learned in Bravos and Dorne and even teaches Shireen a small selection of Dornish and Valyrian words and letters. Shireen is a quick study and learns the letters and vocabulary seemingly as quickly as Maya can present it to her.
King Stannis and his Queen ignore the both of them with a completeness that is both freeing and irritating. Davos stops in on the two of them regularly and brings small sweets and little gifts to Shireen. In return the little girl gives the former smuggler reading lessons. Shireen looks up at Maya with serious eyes and swears her to secrecy about the lessons. Maya swears readily and gives Davos a small smile when he arrives.
Davos himself, though initially unsure of her constant presence near Shireen acclimates to the idea within a few days when he seems to judge for himself that Maya means the Princess no harm. Once while boiling water for bandages she burns her hand and curses rather colorfully in Dornish. Her swears interrupt Davos in his reading with Shireen and both look up at her.
"What does that mean?" Shireen asks curiously.
"Nothing that a Princess will ever need to say," Maya tells her evenly moving quickly to the entrance to the tent to retrieve snow to wrap in a clothe and place against her burn. "Though if you really want to know in a few years time send me a raven and I promise that I will tell you." Shireen nods and Maya assumes that the promise of eventual answers must be enough to sate the girls curiosity for the time being.
She turns from the entrance of the tent to find Davos looking at her with a frown. "What language was that?" he inquiries.
Maya regards him for a long moment before she answers. "Dornish," she replies. "You may have heard I grew up with a Dornish family. I had an elder brother who tutored me to master what he called the basics. Plenty of curses I assure you."
"But you speak another language?" Davos continues. "You can read it and write it?"
"Some," Maya tells him. "I can read it well enough and write out a response so long as I've time to do it properly, and even then the grammar would likely be lacking though my meaning would come across. If it's spoken to me I can understand much though replying out loud is entirely different."
Shireen chooses that moment to pipe in. "She speaks Valyrian to Ser Davos. She tells me stories and rhymes in it."
Maya gives Shireen a small smile before turning back to Davos whose eyes have widened considerably. "I haven't truly heard, used or spoken Valyrian in quite some time. I know the songs and rhymes but carrying out a conversation would be almost certainly beyond what I could manage. A few passing words and phrases maybe. Far fewer in High Valyrian than in Lower."
That simple conversation is, as far as she can tell, the only prompting necessary for her to begin teaching scraps of both foreign languages she knows to Davos as well as Shireen.
All in all the trip itself passes rather well, and fairly uneventfully. The troubles only begin when they are forced to stop moving. The snow falls thick and fast and Maya knows enough about snow and the Northern roads to know that if they do not move soon they will no longer have the option. Many of the other officers among Stannis' army know it to if the pinched and drawn expressions they go about with are any indicator.
The cold is enough to rattle her teeth and bones and it becomes impossible to go outside without any exposed skin turning red from cold and stinging snow. Maya attempted taking a brief walk outside and is forced back inside moments later with her hair and eyelashes coated in white crystals that melt and cause cold water to leak and drip from her hair down her neck and back. It's an entirely unpleasant experience and Maya takes the lesson for what it is and stays inside.
The night of the worst snow storm yet catastrophe strikes. At least, it's catastrophic to Stannis and his attempts to march on Winterfell which makes it a catastrophe for Maya and her ultimate plans to reach Bear Island and her cousin Lyanna. The Boltons strike at night and destroy many of the food reserves and murder horses. A huge portion of the Baratheon forces deserts immediately afterwards. It's a tactically brilliant move, and that brilliance doesn't make it any less of a brutal setback. In fact, the blow is almost sharper in it's utter simplicity.
Late in the day after the attack Maya presents herself outside of King Stannis' tent. The guards posted there eye here warily and Maya nods to each of them respectfully, attempting to master her nerves before deciding that there's nothing else for it and tapping just hard enough to make an audible noise on the tent post. A voice from inside calls for her to enter and Maya takes a breath before pushing through the tent flap. After all, it's not everyday she attempts to strong arm a king.
When she enters she finds that Ser Davos has beaten her to it. The grey haired man looks as though he had just been talking animatedly and was interrupted in the middle of speaking by her knock. Stannis looks at her with tired, angry eyes and Maya can see from his expression that whatever Davos had been saying had not been to the liking of his king.
Maya drops a courtesy. "Your Majesty," she says, nodding to the king. "Lord Seaworth. I've come to inquire as to the current state of affairs. I was wondering if I might take leave of your party and ride for Bear Island on my own horse. As you doubtless know there is very little that I might do to assist in a military campaign."
Stannis sighs. "And how do you plan to cross the leagues from here to Bear Island on your own and unescorted in storms such as the ones that have been plaguing us lately?" he asks. It's a fair question and Maya knows that the answer she gives is important.
"Lord Commander Snow of the Night's Watch promised me an escort as well I'll take him up on his offer if I must," she replies. She has no doubt that Jon would do as he had once offered if she asked it of him. However, she does hope she will not need to ask. "However," she says, continuing to explain her plan. "I accomplished the journey from Eastwatch by the Sea on my own. I can travel the leagues from here to Bear Island alone as well if need be."
Stannis takes his sturdy wooden seat within the tent behind his desk. "I fear I simply cannot allow Lady Maya Mormont Princess of Dorne and heir to House Hightower to travel unescorted if your father is ever to show me his support," he states calmly.
"I'm-" Maya tries, feeling stunned, her tongue heavy and clumsy. "I'm, not a princess Your Grace. The Martell family did show me great kindness and care it is true, but no official decree or adoption was ever made."
Stannis hums noncommittally and digs in to a locked drawer of papers before extracting a piece of thick, expensive looking piece of parchment sealed with both the royal crest and the seal of House Martell. "This is a royal decree sent to me by the Grand Maester of Dorne properly witnessed and signed both by the Crown Prince Doran of Dorne and by my royal brother King Robert Baratheon legitimately claiming you as the daughter of Crown Prince Doran and in your own turn Princess of Dorne."
By the time he has finished speaking Maya has been rendered utterly speechless with shock. She can tell that her eyes are wide and that her jaw is likely hanging towards the floor but can't seem to find it within herself to do anything about it. Her eyes are fixed on the parchment in Stannis' hand and she takes it with numb fingers, scanning the text to the bottom of the page.
There it is, written in stark black ink at the bottom of the page. The first signature is the familiar, careful signature of Doran Martell. He always signed his name carefully and slowly to avoid the ink smudging from his occasionally shaky fingers. Next to it is a looping, careless, absentminded, scrawl that Maya can just make out reads Robert Baratheon. The former king's signature appears to her much like an after thought. Sure this little adopted Northern girl can be your daughter. What did the King of the Seven Kingdoms care about a new princess on the nearly the other side of the world?
The paper is dated nearly three years ago, just before her fourteenth name day.
"He never told me," Maya said, her own voice sounding strange in her head. There is a strange ringing reverberating through her ears. With one piece of paper and two signatures her entire life is altered, shifted sideways on it's axis away from everything she had ever thought was true about her position in the world. Gods, she was still trying to work out how exactly to be a Northern Lady. Being a Southern Princess was nearly inconceivable.
Stannis seems not to care that he has just altered the very fabric of her existence with his words. "No matter at the moment," he says. "I've given Ser Davos permission to return to Castle Black to ask for the aid of the Night's Watch for food to feed the army and repair the supplies we lost in last night's attack. You shall accompany him back to the castle and retrieve your guard from amongst the brothers. Once that's done you'll return here where you'll be joined by some of my soldiers before you continue on to Bear Island."
Maya recognizes that this is both a dismissal and the best and only option she will receive and so dips another curtesy and turns to leave. Davos follows her out and helps her saddle her horse and prepare to leave after they've both said their goodbyes to the Princess Shireen. Davos gives her the gift of a carved wooden stag before leaving and Maya follows after a hug and the promise that she will see Shireen again to finish the story she's been telling the younger girl.
She and Davos make considerably better time on the ride back to Castle Black than the Baratheon army had made on it's journey towards Winterfell. It helps that they can now gallop and are not bogged down by any more possessions than what they possess between the two of them. The heaviest thing between them is the trunk that Maya had carried from Dorne. It isn't until they've stopped for the day that Maya realizes Doran's royal decree naming her his daughter is still in the pocket of her thick traveling cloak. She smooths out the parchment and packs it in to the bottom of her trunk until she can work out what should be done.
She realizes heavily that she has said that about more and more things in her life lately. The pile of issues that she has set aside to be worked out later seems to only grow and grow by the day. Maya has never been an indecisive person before and the idea that she may be becoming one now does not sit well with her at all.
They arrive at the gates of Castle Black in just under a week, less than half the time it had taken to go the other direction with the Baratheon Army. Perhaps it is not soon enough though as Maya is disappointed to learn that Jon has permitted Sam leave to become a Maester, and that he, Gilly, and Baby Sam have already departed. She thinks that Sam, with all of his knowledge of books and law might be able to advise her on what Doran's legal documents truly mean. Besides, she would have liked to say a better goodbye.
Jon greets her warmly enough and all but lifts her off of her horse and down to the ground when they arrive. His gloved hands are a warm pressure against her ribs for a moment and he responds to her small smile with one of his own. However, he checks his reactions when he sees that Davos is her chaperone, becoming guarded in the space of a moment. Maya is beginning to realize that Jon has crafted a mask for political dealings, perhaps modeled after his own father. It is a blank, serious, though difficult to read face and it slides in to place piece by piece as Davos disembarks and makes his way forward.
He calls Edd forward and asks that he find Maya somewhere warm to sit and some food before consenting to Davos' persistent request to speak to him on an urgent matter. Maya is so cold from the brisk ride that she goes without protest. Her teeth are shivering so badly she doesn't think she would be able to form a request to be included in the conversation even if she particularly wanted to see it. She doesn't though. This will be one argument that she knows will not end happily.
She drinks a bowl of broth before the fire in the hall that Edd brings to her. It is thin but hot and tastes plenty good after having not eaten all day prior. The Hall is empty as it is the middle of the day and the sworn brothers are all out practicing drills. She asks Edd to sit with her for company and the Dolorous brother agrees easily sitting on a low wooden bench across from her.
Between sips of broth she manages to get him to tell her of the Battle at Hard Home. She guesses that he will be more forthcoming with details than Jon might be and she isn't disappointed. Dolorous Edd may be but Jon was stoic and silent by nature. Edd, once he has begun talking, speaks freely. He reports simple fact and almost nothing else, but fact is truly all that Maya wants. In her opinion, battles can be embellished and extolled upon in songs. In real life fact is best.
The tale is gruesome and frightening to be sure and by the time it is finished Maya has shivered more than once from something completely other than the temperature. When it is done Edd excuses himself, saying that he has work to do about the Castle and Maya thanks him and bids him farewell. She stays by the fire for another few moments to allow the heat to sink in to her bones and then rises and makes her way to Maester Aemon's former chambers.
She grieves his death quietly and by herself as she stands in his room surrounded by the few material possessions that the man saw fit to keep. Many of them are books. Thick volumes on all manner of subjects, bound in worn leather with crinkled though well preserved pages. There are gaps where volumes used to stand and Maya assumes that Sam must have taken them with him to begin his new life of study.
Maya herself takes careful stock of Aemon's carefully labeled collection of herbs and begins the somber task of re-catalogueing them and replenishing her own stock. She hates the idea that she s taking from a dead man, but many of the herbs used in healing tended to spoil and expire like most others if not used and many others were difficult to resupply even in high summer. This was no Summer that they were in now.
A sudden clamor from the courtyard breaks through her work and Maya steps outside to view the courtyard from above as the gate lifts and Melissandre enters on horseback wearing her customary red. She sees Davos make his ay to the Red Woman but the exchange must not go well because it is incredibly brief. Maya can hear Davos ask for news, particularly of Shireen but never hears Melissandre answer and moments later Davos steps aside to let the woman pass.
Maya returns to the Maester's chambers and finishes the work she had begun. It takes perhaps an hour or more before there is nothing else left for her to do and she returns to the bottom floor of the Castle. By the time she ventures back in to the courtyard night had just begun to fall along with a fresh flurry of snow.
While outside she encounters Tormund who is quick to relay the more grizzly details of the Battle of Hard Home to her. The bearded Wildling man spares her nothing and gives more than one account of Jon's bravery and spectacular actions with Longclaw. Maya nods along and prompts gently when his flow of words begins to slow and in doing so gathers a complete second account of the battle.
"I suppose I had best see Jon myself soon," Maya says.
When she does it's more speaking her thoughts aloud than it is actual conversation though Tormund seems not to see it that way. "Aye!' he says. "I doubt anything'd put a smile on that boy's pretty face but in m'opinion theres many a thing a woman can do as others can't." His face is light with salacious joy at his own bawdy humor at her expense.
Maya flushes a bit despite her best efforts but ignores the implications of his words even as her ears warm. Instead of trying to craft any sort of reply to his joke, Maya bids Tormund goodnight and begins to make her way to the staircase that leads up to the Lord Commander's private chambers. "Yes Girl," Tormund chuckles behind her. "Be on your way Queen Crow!"
Maya turns from a few steps above him to glare down at the man but his laughter only increases in volume at her attempt and Maya spins back around and stomps up the stairs. She is irritated and not a little embarrassed but the feelings strike her in a familiar way. Trystane had teased her often and sometimes mercilessly in the same manner. It was the way in which elder brothers teased younger sisters for their own amusement when they found that it suited them.
She reaches Jon's door and knocks gently with one fist.
"Yes?" is Jon's low invitation from inside and Maya slips in, shutting the door quietly behind her. Jon seems to be interrupted in the middle of pacing back and forth across the room and is paused in mid-step. He deflates visibly when he sees that it is her and Maya can see his shoulders drop in relief. "Maya," he breathes, moving to her and taking one of her hands in both of his. "Gods, I'm glad that you are alright."
"I've heard what happened in Hard Home," she tells him, moving her other hand so that it rests over his. "If the Gods, old or new were watching either of us it seems they were quite rightfully watching more carefully over you."
Jon moves back but keeps hold of her hands for another few moments as he leads her to the chair before his desk and moves around the table to take his own seat. "I knew someone'd tell you," he says, seeming both relieved and resigned in equal measure. "Who was it?"
"Edd," she replies. "And Tormund. The former was rather dry as you might expect and the latter was rather graphic, again as you would think. I suspect the truth of things lies somewhere in the middle."
He nods. "That is likely." With a sigh he sits back in his chair and asks with resignation, "Is there anything you wish to know?"
Maya leans forward, leaning her elbows against the edge of the desk in a way that would have appalled her Septa. "Just this," she begins. "Longclaw. Both Edd and Tormund have said that you used it to kill one of the White Walkers. Have you any idea why it worked?"
"Sam thinks that it has something to do with Valyrian Steel," Jon replies. His words seem to come easily and Maya guesses that he is grateful that she does not press for details about the massacre. "He's gone to the Citadel to find the other volumes on the substance. He thinks there may be some important secret in how the metal is forged. If he can find it and we learn how to replicate it then-"
"-Then we would have a working supply of weapons to use in the wars to come," Maya finishes, completing his thought for him. It's incredibly reassuring in some ways. It's not a perfect plan, not by a long shot. Merely pinning their hopes on rediscovering a forging method lost for a thousand years is in no way ideal. However it is a plan, and any plan is considerably better than what they had before.
After that the talk turns to Maya's journey towards Winterfell with the Baratheon army. Much as Maya had wanted to hear of Hard Home from multiple sources Jon wants to hear Maya's account in addition to Davos'. Maya has the sneaking suspicion that her tale is rather boring but Jon fastens on to, and examines every detail she can provide. It is a good feeling to talk together and slowly they begin to trade hesitant questions on other subjects.
They trade pieces of information about Dorne and Winterfell and details about their families. Jon speaks haltingly of noble Robb, Wild Arya, Proud Sansa, Rickon the baby who loved honeyed cakes, and Bran who loved to climb. In turn Maya tells of the fiersome Sandsnakes, and of Trystane who protected her fiercely always. Eventually they lapse in to a comfortable silence and she has just begun to say "Stannis told me something just before we left about-"
They are interrupted by a knock on the door and they spring apart as Olly comes sprinting through the door. The sudden distance between them after having moved gradually close together while speaking surprises her. Jon seems to share the feeling as well by the jarred look that flits behind his eyes as they momentarily lock on hers. Then his attention spins away as he hears that Olly may have found a Wildling with news about his Uncle Benjen.
The news understandably sends Jon hurtling to his feet and he prepares to race after Olly before glancing back at her. "I'm sorry to leave you in this way My Lady," he says in a rush. "I know that you were about to tell me something-"
"Go!" Maya urges. "Go! Family is scarce these days for both of us. Go to Olly and learn of your Uncle."
Jon sends her a quick, hectic smile, kissing the tips of her fingers seemingly without thinking about it before he sprints for the door. He tosses a look back over his shoulder to her and it is the most unguardedly hopeful she has ever seen him. "Wait for me?" he asks. "We'll speak when I return?" There's a note of questioning in his voice as though he thinks it may be too much for him to hope for and Maya nods her agreement. With that he goes and Maya can't help but smile after him.
It may be foolish but she does as Jon had bid and waits for him. She adds wood to the fire and then returns to her vacated chair, pulling her feet up in to her seat.
Then she waits...
A/N: So? What did you guys think? I hope you liked the chapter but I'm a little unsure so I'm open to suggestions if you've got them. I plan to write the next installment as this story's version of season six so it might take a little longer to write because I want to get the details as right as I can now that I'm basically following the plot line of the show. I'm interested to see how Maya and Sansa play together in my head! Review for me! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxooxooxxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxox