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Val's return might have brought relief to Jon, but it was the news of her brother's imminent arrival that brought joy to her. Leo was only her step-brother, truth be told, but they had grown close when she sought refuge in his father's house, and it would be the first time she laid eyes on any of her own family in many years.
It was perhaps the longest wait of her life, that period between the announcement of the party's oncoming and their actual arrival. The years had brought little change to her brother, though his chest and arms had thickened with muscle and the ghost of a beard grew. He still had his tanned skin, dark brooding eyes, and light brown hair.
But his appearance did not shock her half as much as who dismounted his horse beside him. He was tall and strong, with hair so light it looked silver, in stark contrast with his skin darkened by the sun and laughing brown eyes.
As soon as their eyes met she could not stop the smile that spread over her face, or the girlish giggle he elicited when he grabbed her by her waist, effortlessly spinning her around in the air.
"Rytsas, dona haedora," he whispered, setting her back down, "Oh how I've missed you."
Even when he spoke the Common Tongue, the Myrish seeped through his voice, far more so than it did in her own. She had worked hard to hide the sounds that marked her as foreign, separated her from the rest.
"Daerys," she greeted, "What are you doing here?"
"He was visiting when I received your raven," her brother explained, stepping to their side, "He demanded to come."
That was not a surprise to her, when Daerys wanted something he tended to get it.
"Lekia." She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him, "It has been too long."
"On that we can agree." He replied, "Now, where is my nephew?"
Waving towards Taenella, the woman walked forwards holding out the babe to Leo, who eagerly took him into his arms.
"He looks like you." Leo commented, "Except for his eyes. His father's?" Layla nodded in response, "You said his name is Eddard, a Westerosi name?"
"It was Robb's father's name." She answered, "Lord Stark was a good man. We wanted to honour him."
"No other family members you wished to honour?" Daerys asked, with his devilish grin, "I had hoped you would name a son for me."
Perhaps if you had given me one I would have.
"I have other family members more worthy of such an honour." She replied, smiling sweetly at him
"You wound me."
"And I am sure it is grievous."
"Yes." He agreed, "Odres meri ao kostagon maghagon"
She could not quell the indignation that grew with his words, though her face remained stony. He will not see my anger, she told herself, it will only grant him the justification he desires.
"Are you going to introduce us?" Leo asked, nodding his head towards Jon, who had been standing behind her
"Yes," Layla said, "This is Lord Commander Jon Snow."
"The hospitality of Castle Black is yours," Jon offered, "For as long as you need it."
"We will leave as soon as possible," Leo said, "Just long enough for the men to rest."
"And how many men do you have with you?" Jon asked
"Five hundred."
"Where did you get that many men?" She asked, incredulously
"My father paid for sellswords." Leo explained, "Daerys brought more with him. We have food enough for them, and more."
"How many mounted?"
"Half."
"It'll take you a month to get to Winterfell." Jon told them, "You might not make it in time."
"We have to try."
Though, if she had her way she would send her brother and cousin home that instant, and proceed with their men. There was no guarantee that either of them would live to return to their homes, and she could not be the reason they were torn from their families.
"Jon," she said, "Would you show us to where the men will be staying?"
"Your brother, and,"
"Cousin." She finished, failing to further elaborate on their shared history
"Can stay with you in the Lord Commander's Tower." He told them, "Their men can stay in the Grey Keep."
"Well then," she said, "Lead the way."
As they trudged behind the Lord Commander, Layla fell into step with her brother, who still held Eddard in his arms. Daerys trailed behind them, though she felt his stares on her.
"How does our family fare?" She asked, "Issa muñnykeā se dubys?"
"They are all quite well." Leo assured her, "They are happy and healthy. And long to see you."
But she would never return to Essos, that she knew for certain. Lys had been her birthplace, but she had fled from there. Braavos was the home of her first caregiver, and now that of her mother, but never her own. In Myr she had found a home in her grandmother's house once, but not any longer. I have no home, no place in this world, but my son will. Winterfell and the North will be his.
"I share such a longing." She replied, "You and Daerys seem...familiar."
"I will not lie and say we just met." Leo said, "He came to my father's house looking for you, a month, perhaps, after you left, all those years ago."
"Then he was a month too late."
Their procession inside Castle Black did not go unnoticed, with Melisandre watching them with interest from a window of the King's Tower. As he eyes moved their gaze from Leo to Daerys, Layla tensed, having to fight the urge to shield him from Melisandre's hungry gaze.
"A Red Priestess?" Leo asked, "The Lord Commander's, or this king?"
"Queen Selyse is a convert, and an ardent one at that." She remarked, "Melisandre undegon mirres isse se perzyssy."
"Ponta ry pendagon bona."
Later that night they all gathered together in the common hall. The Queen had wanted a feast, no doubt to impress the new arrivals, but the Lord Commander had vetoed it. Even without having to feed the visiting soldiers, the stores of Castle Black would not last long with such careless opulence.
Though, she would have much rathered the Queen and her men not be present, for it seemed each of them strived to be the most offensive towards her brother and cousin. Not that she was surprised. She had learned that the Westerosi were not accepting to foreigners, and neither Leo nor Daerys had acquiesced her request to speak only the Common Tongue.
"Māzigon sir, raqiarzy." Daerys said, jovially, "Skoro syt gaomagon ao daor ȳzaldrīzes aōha muñnykeā ēngos?"
"Kesrio syt daor mēre shifangus."
"Tell me, Lord Commander," Daerys said, "What of Valyrian do you know?"
"Precious little." Jon replied, "I am afraid not many in Westeros speak it."
"And yet us in Essos know the Common Tongue."
"Perhaps that is why it's named such." Jon suggested, causing Daery's lips to quirk up on one side
"I've never heard you speak Valyrian." He remarked, turning towards her, "Why?"
"There was no one to speak it to." Layla shrugged, "And it is not Valyrian, truth be told. There is High Valyrian, and Bastard or Low Valyrian." She explained, "Each of the Free Cities has its own version, different enough that learning one is not learning two. And then Slaver's Bay has a different dialect as well."
"And you speak them all?"
"More all less." She answered, "Growing up I spent time either in each Free City, or with someone who was from there." She told him, "Though, I know perhaps only a few words of Lorathi, and Qohori."
"What of the rest of the East?" Jon asked, "There is more than the Free Cities."
"I have some level of competence in the Summer Tongue." She replied, "A few sentences in Dothraki. Trade talk."
"Trade talk?"
"It's a meshing of many different languages, as well as hand gestures. It's mainly used on the docks, hence the name." She told him, "Most of it actually consists of insults."
"You will have to teach the Lord Commander," Daerys said, "So that he may understand us."
"I'm sure the Lord Commander is too busy for lessons." Leo said, his eyes glaring with warning, "Gaomagon daor provoke zirȳla"
"Nyke jāhor dōrī"
Rytsas dona haedora = hello, sweet cousin
Lekia = older brother
Odresa = painful
Odres meri ao kostagon maghagon = pain only you can bring
Issa muñnykeā se dubys = my mother and siblings
Melisandre undegon mirres isse se perzyssy = Melisandre sees things in the flames
Ponta ry pendagon bona = they all think that
Māzigon sir raqiarzy. Skoro syt gaomagon ao daor ȳzaldrīzes aōha muñnykeā ēngos? = come now, beloved. Why do you not speak your mother tongue?
Kesrio syt daor mēre shifangus = because no one understands
Gaomagon daor provoke zirȳla = do not provoke him
Nyke jāhorus dōrī = I would never