Years passed and with them, the realm prospered even in the heart of winter. King's Landing thrived with trade and people, food continued to remain fairly rationed so none went hungry, and peacetime flowed over all who lived to see such days. Rhaena kept her word to journey north in order to visit friends and loved ones, soaring over the land to go beyond the Wall and find Jon Snow having made his life amongst the wildlings. He had beamed brightly the moment he had saw Rhaegal's shadow and looked up to see him flying directly towards his village. The cold had broken his lips several times, but the sting was worth tolerating as Jon trudged through the snow as Rhaegal landed so that when Rhaena threw herself from his back, he was there to catch her. They fell in a tangled mess of limbs into a drift, laughing and rolling as they grappled until they both embraced. Rhaegal huffed and snorted, nudging Jon off Rhaena with a curt growl which only made Rhaena laugh further. Next came Tormund, bellowing rigorously and this time, Rhaena was tackled around the middle and once more buried into the snow. Rhaegal thumped his tail in irritation, but hearing his kin-rider laugh so brightly, decided not to interfere. Tormund grinned almost maniacally as he grasped hold of Rhaena's face and planted a firm, intense kiss to her mouth in greeting before shouting to the rest of the village, who had all ran for cover to hide from the approach of the dragon.
Rhaena was welcomed once the wildlings were assured Rhaegal would not hurt them, marvelling that Rhaena could wear so little and not feel the cold. Jon was relieved to see that the fire of her spirit had returned, burning brightly and intensely so that even standing near her was enough to feel winter's chill rush away. He brought her into the caves where the wildlings dwelled when the snows were harshest, and there they spoke for hours and hours until Tormund interrupted, announcing that they were to have a feast and that Rhaena must dance with him at least thrice and drink triple times that number. Jon attempted to cool Tormund's eagerness, but Rhaena proved more than obliging and accepted Tormund's challenge, thinking that a wildling celebration sounded like a fascinating and merry occasion. Her hopes were not disappointed. She drank and danced then drank some more, laughing and squealing whenever Tormund lifted her up to throw or spin her, making her dizzy until she would stumble into Jon's arms as he laughingly steadied her. He danced with her too, and when the songs came Rhaena added several of her own tunes, much to the delight of her hosts. They celebrated until passions passed the point of no return, couples vanishing in order to satiate their desires as others simply drank themselves into a dazed stupor. Tormund lasted longest of them all, draining his drinking horn and asking after Brienne before going off in search of a woman for himself. Rhaena stayed with Jon, nestled against him with his arm about her, sharing his cloak and furs as they whispered together a little longer before falling asleep.
He was glad that Rhaena had come, gladder still that she stayed for more than a month with him. Together they talked, hunted, explored and flew. A simple life, one that Rhaena felt she might want for herself someday after she had satiated her desire to explore more of the world. She was hesitant to return to Meereen and the Bay of Dragons, but part of her longed to. She wanted to revisit the journey her sister had taken, all the way to that great pyramid. It was impossible to know if Daario Naharis still remained there with his Second Sons keeping the peace, but if he was there, Rhaena would like to see him again. She had sent him word of her sister's death, knowing that he would want to be informed, but had never received word back. She would have to go and see for herself one day, but not today. Today, she was with Jon, and at that moment, she was pestering him about finding a wife for himself amongst the bold and hardy womenfolk of the wildlings. "A Night's Watch brother can't take wives nor father any children, Rhae. You know that."
"That hasn't stopped Sam, has it? And considering how you first described him to me; he was the most craven man to ever live. Gilly's girl is approaching two years of age soon, meaning that she'll finally name her. She's a sweet thing, very round like her father. She plays with little Joanna and the two are quite inseparable. I've named them both my wards, you know. It raises Gilly's girl's prospects and help her find a good husband later. Perhaps a little lordling." Rhaena continued to chatter as they climbed a steep mountain with Tormund ahead of them, showing them the way to what he promised Rhaena to be the most incredible view she would ever see. When she had suggested simply flying to get to the top, Tormund had laughed. In order to appreciate the view, you first had to work to get to it, hence why the climbed instead. "In any case, there is no real Night's Watch anymore. Only a shadow patrol to watch the Wall's Gap, and additionally, you have made your life here. Take a wife, Jon. Father children. Be happy. If you wish, you can send your children south and they can become part of my household. Robb would also be happy to take them on, I know. Even in King's Landing they would find a place waiting for them. The wife does not necessarily have to be a wildling. You are only banished from the south. You can still visit the North, so long as you find some pretence for it. The Unsullied are gone, all that remain are ones who have sworn loyalty to me, and now that some years have passed, I know that Grey Worm will not feel as keenly as he did…" Pausing for a moment, Rhaena grasped Jon's arm to catch her breath and bring him to face her. "It is my fault you are in this predicament. Say the word and we can tell everyone the truth and lift your banishment. I only want you happy, Jon."
"I am happy. Happy enough, at least. But you do not need to worry about me, Rhae. I don't need a wife. I've had one before, and Daenerys…perhaps someday, but not yet." Closing the discussion with such simple words, Rhaena would have laughed incredulously were she not so out of breath. Something soft brushed against her hand and she looked to find Ghost had doubled back for them. One ear was missing and he now bore several scars from his battle against the undead, but he too seemed happier to be in the north than anywhere else as Jon did. Dropping her arguments, Rhaena and Jon resumed the climb after Tormund shouted to them to keep moving otherwise they would freeze to death. With Ghost beside them, they continued the ascent, panting and wheezing until finally, they dragged themselves to the tallest ridge of the mountain's peak and staggered to where Tormund stood before a bank of rolling clouds.
"Tormund, if you dragged us up here just to look at clouds, I might throw you off the precipice." Rhaena warned him however he hushed her insistently, staring at the clouds until finally, he pointed. The clouds parted as the winds shifted, and there before her, Rhaena gazed at what she could only describe as infinity. The setting sun cast its golden light upon the endless expanses of snow and ice, turning them to sheets of cream, ivory and silken white. They sparkled and glittered as mountains taller even than the one they had climbed rose like jagged teeth and demanded the respect they were owed for their sheer size and presence. Dropping her jaw, Rhaena stared openly at the scene before her.
"Beautiful, no? That's right…the North is in you now. You'll never forget her, and she'll never forget you." Tormund said as his breath came in hot white clouds. "You'll be back." And Rhaena knew it would be true. It seemed strange to her that someone born of fire such as her would love so deeply that of ice. She did not have Jon's Stark blood, and yet she admired and loved it here all the same. Perhaps it was because of what it represented to her. simplicity. Peacefulness. Tranquillity. Calmness. Stillness. Everything that her mind was not when it rose against her. The north, the true north, may very well be the cure for insanity should she ever be pushed beyond that of her own control. Overhead, Rhaegal roared as he spread his wings and glided over the mountaintop, his great shape becoming a dark silhouette before the setting sun as he too explored the north. He did not love it as Rhaena did, but he could sense how comfortable she was here. He tolerated it for her sake, but he was not sad to leave it behind when the time came to leave. The south was warmer, though not by much. It would be good when summer returned, when the air grew hot and rich once again.
Her time away had been exactly what Rhaena had needed, restoring her to a relaxed state so that she could return to her work with calm focus, all the while Jaime accompanied her as her knight, and the little ones ran around their feet now that they were learning how to waddle. Jaime took to being a father like a fish to water, catching Joanna and trapping her against his chest each time she darted near to him, attempting to twist and scamper away as the game demanded but Jaime was too quick and always caught her. Rhaena suspected that Joanna secretly liked to be caught by her father, calling for him and smothering his cheek with her kisses each time he lifted her in his arms. When Gilly and Sam's daughter reached her second birthday, a quiet celebration was held for her with only close and personal friends in attendance, where they revealed that her name would be Rosana. Sam's mother and sister fussed a great deal over Rosana, offering her many sweet treats to sample until Randyll barked that they'd spoil the girl with their sweets. He had then promptly plucked the girl from them and carried her in one arm to tell her a story of her family's greatest battles and achievements, all the while bouncing her on his knee.
Between Rosana and Little Sam, they had softened Randyll Tarly from his tough, austere exterior. Rosana was the apple of his eye and Little Sam promised to grow into a strapping young lad, much to Tarly's approval. Though Little Sam was not technically of his son's blood, time had softened him, and now he might even acknowledge Gilly's presence if he was in a particularly pleasant mood. It amused everyone to see him in such a manner, and Dickon laughed as he clapped his brother heartily on the shoulder. The celebration continued in merriment and, seeing that all was well, Rhaena slipped away in order to seek out Bran, who had not attended. Knowing that his presence sometimes frightened the children, he tended to keep his distance. Rhaena brought him some wine and a plate of the food that had been spread for the guests, and together they had picked at it whilst she told him of her journey beyond the wall and of Jon. Not that she needed to, for she suspected that Bran had been with her for some parts of it as he often looked upon Jon, and her too whenever she was away. "I tried to persuade Jon to take a wife, but he seems set against the idea. Perhaps I shall try again in a few years, he might be more open to the idea then." She mused as she nibbled upon a honeyed oatcake, letting her thoughts wander. "At the very least, he seems content. Perhaps after ten years has passed since his sentence, we can give him a royal pardon so he can live as he chooses."
"I think that a good possibility." Bran agreed softly, watching as Rhaena finished her cake then licked the honey from her fingers. "You will stay here for a while?"
"Yes, until my work is done for this quarter, and everything is in hand for an extended leave of absence. I have several people in mind who can take up my work whilst I am gone, if you would like to consider them? They are good people and will serve well. If it is perhaps easier, I can always resign my position as Mistress of Laws so that a more reliable and permanent person can take my place." Shaking his head, Bran did not much like the idea of Rhaena giving up her duties here forever. The title meant that she would always come back to fulfil her role. Even if she would not remain forever, it was a comfort to know that Bran would not lose her entirely. Selfish as it may seem, he could not bring himself to let Rhaena go. Not completely. He felt bound to her in a way he could not quite explain, and often wondered if she felt such a bond towards him. It was clear that she loved him, but rather, it was the boy who had climbed through her window in Winterfell she loved, and the image of him that remained. Had they met as strangers today, he was certain Rhaena would not love him again. Yet still he held onto her, satisfied merely to have her close to him.
"There will always be a place waiting for you here." Softening gratefully at his words, Rhaena considered a moment before asking if Bran wanted to hear a story or a song. "A story, I think. Tell me a story. A long one." Allowing his head to rest back and his eyes to close, Bran listened as Rhaena's voice filled his head with painted images of the story she wove for him, one that took several hours to complete. It was in these moments that Bran felt a little like his old self again, like the boy who had climbed walls and run over Winterfell's rooftops. For as long as possible, Bran wanted to enjoy these quiet evenings with only Rhaena for company, feeling the warmth of her nearness and hearing the sound of her voice until it lulled him to sleep where he would then fly. Always, however, he would fly towards wherever he could find her.