Previously on PotG: Sansa is engaged to Tyrion. Nathalia tells Jon she'll return to the wall.

Chapter 28: Arrangements

*Nathalia*

The Men of the Night's Watch stand frozen when Nathalia appears in a sudden whirlwind. Her chemise is replaced with a long-sleeved silk blood-red gown that only priestesses could pull off. It is enough for some men to gawk when they see her exotic beauty once more.

"Congratulations on defeating the wights," She breaks the ice by sending them a compliment. "You've lost men but you have regained honor from the seven kingdoms. The gods are pleased."

Sam is the first person who dares approach her. His fat body waddles happily as he approaches her. Exhaustion mars his face and it is obvious that his body could not take whatever physical exercise he's been doing.

Nathalia chuckles at his respectful bow. "Sam, it's good to see you." It really is. She didn't think he would survive such an attack. Alessandra must have taken care of him on the battlefield.

The sound of soft footsteps descending from the stairs catches her attention. Alessandra—beautiful even in her most haggard form—exhales a breath of relief when she sees her dear friend. She takes careful, hasty steps down the training ground with her salmon coloured dress swishing against the cool northern air.

They smile tentatively at each other before the taller of the two barrels on Nathalia's outstretched arms. The happiness of their reunion brings comfort to the men as they continue with their daily work.

Nathalia squeezes Ally once more before she lets go. The tears at the corners of her mysterious eyes don't go unnoticed. "I've missed you," She fixes the stray strand of auburn hair from Ally's loose braid and giggles softly. "That was the longest we've been apart, do you realize that?"

The fairer woman grabs Nathalia's hands and replies, "Of course! I've missed you every day. Being a guardian is not the same without you." Then, as if realizing Nathalia's lack of companion, a small frown grazes her features. "Where's Jon?"

Looking around, Nathalia slowly pulls Ally towards the Lord Commander's office. They're too much in public to be discussing Robb Stark's immature outburst. When they reach the staircase, she leans closely. "With his brother,"

"You left him there alone?"

"He understands," She argues a bit defensively.

Ally rubs her cold hands with her best friend's and exhales. "We're leaving the wall, aren't we?"

Nathalia wants to tell her that she could stay if she wishes to but holds it off since she knows that she will need Ally's help now more than ever. "I will tell you what I have planned later. For now, I have matters to attend to."

Lord Commander Thorne is speaking with someone as soon as both of them enter his office. Immediately, the smell of burning wood and steel fills Nathalia's nose. There are papers scattered all over Thorne's desk with a container of melted candle holding them in place if ever the winds make their way inside the small coop.

When he figures out who came in with Alessandra, the newly-appointed Lord Commander stands up hastily. "Nathalia, you're back."

She smiles generously, "For a time." Not wanting to be rude, she inquires, "Might I have a word?"

Thorne sits back at his chair and looks at the man he is speaking to as if he is begging for permission. Who is he? When the man nods, Thorne did too. "Very well."

His companion turns, and a gasp of surprise leaves Nathalia's normally composed demeanor. By the gods. The man's dark curls hang dangerously long in front of his pale blue eyes—but they don't make him look rouge. No no Gabriel could never look rogue. His physique—may Jon forgive her for noticing—is impressive. But why is he here? Do the guardians send back willing volunteers?

With as much as she could muster, Nathalia finally speaks. "Gabriel?" How many moons—years—has it been since she last uttered his name? How many moons did Alessandra continue to cheer her when she overthought herself to borderline insanity? Her heart beats wildly, hoping and not believing that her former flame could be standing in front of her.

The man coughs albeit a bit awkwardly. "Uhm—no, actually. I'm his son."

This almost sends her back to a shock. "Gabe—he has a son?" The man opens his mouth to reply but she speaks again, "My family, they didn't send me a whisper." Short, pained laughs escape her plump lips. "Gabriel has a wife,"

The hand that descends on her shoulder brings her back to reality. She blinks the unshed tears as soon as she sees Alessandra's warning gaze. No guardian must show weakness. "Must have been lost in the winds," Is her best friend's joke to lighten the atmosphere.

Nathalia sucks another deep breath before smiling, "It's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Dyllon," He supplies.

"Dyllon." She continues.

The awkward tension hangs in the air until Alessandra and Dyllon leave the room.

Thorne is wearing an amused face—one that might bother her if she is in full control of her bearings.

Nathalia clears her throat and pushes any thoughts of Gabriel's family out of her head. "Jorah Mormont was a selfless man—sacrificing his life for his men." The death of the former Lord Commander is the safe subject they could speak about first without first lashing out on each other.

The newly-appointed Lord Commander's face sets itself in a grim line. "His death left many unfinished business."

"Hmm," Nathalia purses her lips. Her focus is now only directed at the current predicament the wall is facing. Despite their cordial relationship in her last days at the wall, she still couldn't fully unveil Thorne's real agenda. He seemed satisfied with following Jorah Mormont's wishes and settled in training the new men of the night's watch. "Do the free folk have something to do with this unfinished business?"

"A part,"

"You're not happy that they're here," Nathalia quips.

Lord Commander Thorne's brief grunt of agreement when he sat back was enough to confirm his suspicions. "They're wildlings. They shouldn't be even fight-in with us. They should be out there—outside the wall. And we should be hunt-in them."

"Believe me; they're as uneasy as you. Mance Rayder would not resort to your help if the situation is not drastic." She walks towards the table hoping to catch a small peek of the letters coming from all over Westeros. Surely the news of the Night's Watch teaming with the wildlings must have reached even Dorne since a handful of helpers have been assigned to them. In this, the beginning of Thorne's reign as lord commander has a bit of positive and negative opinions from powerful families.

"What do I do?" Allister Thorne sighs heavily and surrenders his full weight unto his seat. His face is a mixture of defeat and frustration at his reputation as the first lord commander who made peace with the wildlings.

Nathalia sighs, mutters a short chant insider her head to calm Thorne, and says, "Give them a day's worth of head start. After, you could continue being enemies." Walking closer to place a comforting hand in Thorne's shoulders, Nathalia smiles. "This does not mean there is peace between the free folk and the men of the night's watch. They know that. You know that. Don't worry; I'll tell Mance Rayder myself,"

He gruffs. Hmm. He doesn't say it but Nathalia knows that the newly-appointed Lord Commander is thankful.

"I must go. I have some pressing matters to discuss with Alessandra." But then she stops before she could leave and faces him again. "If I may be so bold as to be asking, how are you?—really?"

For a moment, a flicker of pain passes by Commander Thorne's usually stoic face. "We've lost men before…just not this many."

Knowing that he does not want to add more, she nods. "The gods are thankful you have abolished these vile creatures. You will be blessed, Commander."

He smiles a little at his title.

Nathalia leaves then and proceeds to walk to her and Alessandra's chamber. A few men smile at her politely and bow as she passed them by. The biting chill of the farther north is welcoming as it caresses her soft olive-toned skin. Her breaths become little puffs of smoke before disappearing. Without noticing, her arms are wrapped around her body to create a bit of friction.

Seven hells. It's cold.

She enters unannounced. The first thing she sees is a pale orange-haired woman speaking with Ally. Then the woman turns to look at her. All breath is stolen from Nathalia. Her chest constricts in a panicked manner. The gods are definitely making sure that I know what consequences of my indecisiveness are. She's so near—Jon's woman is near.

"Nathalia!" Her friend breaks the silence when she takes the other helper's hand and drags her towards the stunned woman. "This is Ygritte! She's been a great help,"

Not knowing that to do, Nathalia sends a small grimace in the young girl's direction. "Pleasure,"

The woman's eyes widen, "Yer Nathalia—the famous helper!"

A tight-lipped smile is the best she can muster. "Yes, I suppose I am." Then in her most cordial voice, she says: "Will you please excuse me and Alessandra to speak? I have some pressing matters to tell, so I would be eternally grateful if you left to give us some needed privacy."

Not knowing what to make of Nathalia's hostility, Ygritte bows awkwardly and offers them both a shaking smile before walking out the door.

Nathalia gives Ally a sorry smile when an air of confusion surrounds them.

"A bit hostile, Thalia?" Ally looks at her uncertainly.

"She's the woman,"

"The woman?"

"Jon's woman."

"From the dream?"

Nathalia nods.

Ally eyes the closed door worriedly as if Ygritte will be snooping behind the closed confines. "I should have known,"

"There was no way you could have guessed it was her,"

Ally purses her lips. "Well she's beautiful—I'll give her that. The gods know what they're doing."

A frosty look is what she receives from Nathalia. "Are you saying that she's a good match for Jon?"

It is combated with an annoyed expression. "You are Jon's woman. That dream is nothing more than a warning. You have until the end of this war."

Feeling a bit foolish from her cold demeanor towards Ygritte, Nathalia looks away. "I need to apologize to her."

"And say what? 'I'm sorry but you're destined to be with my handsome beloved if I choose not to stay in Westeros—that's why I don't like you'?"

A small smile graces her lips. "Something shorter, I guess."

Ally sighs and plops down on her nearby bed. "Why did you return here? You could have just sent me a whisper and I would have been there within the fortnight."

Nathalia walks towards her friend and sits beside her. The walls of their small space are lighted by the roaring fire. It smells a bit musty—giving the impression that nobody has cleaned the room for very long. "Robb Stark is a fool,"

Alessandra raises a curious brow. "Elaborate further, please."

"He is blinded by love,"

"Oh, and you're not?"

Nathalia silences Ally's teasing grin with a roll of her eyes. "When you sent me that whisper, I saw Ygritte. For a moment, it seemed as if the gods are playing a game. I lost my senses and my consciousness,"

"Seven hells, Nathalia. You shouldn't overwork yourself too much!"

"I know, I know." She relents, "Jon was there when I woke up, and told me the worst news,"

Nathalia looks at Alessandra. The latter's face is full of curiosity, awaiting what happens next during Nathalia's watch over King Robb.

"He has married,"

"Who?"

"Robb Stark!"

Her companion's brows furrow in confusion. "I thought he was to marry Walder Frey's daughter?"

"Yes,"

"Then did that vile man send his daughter to Robb's camp?"

"No," She sighs. "Robb Stark married a healer from Volantis. It's a bit of a mess. I need your help,"

Alessandra nods. "Of course. I'm confused; why did you come here then?"

"He relies on me already and he doesn't see it. I'll let him fret about it for a few days at least," She sighs and lays her back on the bed with her legs dangling comically. "Besides, I'm tired. Everyone has heard of my involvement in the war. The new guardians want to earn my favour my sending me whispers at the most inconvenient time possible,"

"Poor you,"

"Are you laughing at me?"

Alessandra lays beside her so their figures lean heavily on each other. "I'm just saying you've not been in a battle yet. What stress would you feel more if you start to use your arrow again?"

Nathalia sighs heavily. She knows that the exhaustion she feels is not just because of Robb Stark's stupidity, or the fact that she's away from Jon. It was more of a much needed closure with the gods regarding her choice. Kicking off her shoes, Nathalia crawls backwards the bed and settles more comfortably. "Can I please sleep for a moon?"

"No, but I'll let you sleep until supper,"

Nathalia closes her eyes and hears Alessandra's shuffling around the room as she stands up. Later, a piece of cloth is draped on her figure. It is only a few moments before she lets herself be taken willingly by the darkness.

*Jaime Lannister*

Leaving Tyrion and their father to bicker, he follows Sansa out the door as soon as the news was delivered. She is fast, dashing from corridor to corridor until she's inside her room. Her frantic movement is enough for him to know that she could break down anytime. He pauses in front of her chamber. Would she think it scandalous of him if he shows up unannounced? He didn't hear the door lock so she could have seen him following her. Without knocking, Jaime enters the chamber.

The first thing he sees is Sansa's shuddering body as she hugs her knees to her chest. Her bed frame serves as her rock as she tries to calm her breathing. Jaime stops walking, and feels his breath catch. Seven hells, someone will pay for this.

"What has happened?" Nathalia's sister glares at him as soon as she noticed his presence inside the room. Thank the gods that they've been waiting inside to make it easier for them to relay their current predicament. Beside Natasha is a worried handmaiden who appears to know too much of the situation.

Jaime holds his hands up. "It's not my fault. My arse of a father did this," He knows it makes sense for them to blame him first. He is an ass to most people.

"What did he do?" She is in front of him in a flash. He notices that her eyes don't hold the same warmth her sister has. Her fiery red dress aesthetically makes her scarier in the lighting of the room.

"He's heard of your plan,"

"What plan?"

"What do you mean: what plan?" He scoffs. Jaime's too tired to play any games. The fact that they haven't told him of their plans bothers him more than it should. Doesn't Nathalia trust him as much as she once did? Did she believe those insults about being him being a glorified Kingslayer? "Loras fucking Tyrell,"

"I don't know what you mean,"

He almost laughs but he sees the honesty behind her cold eyes so he quiets, "You don't know."

"Know what?"

Jaime looks at Sansa and sees her peering from her cocooned figure. He continues despite her silent protests. Not only does he know the dangers of keeping secrets from guardians but also Sansa's lack of logical thoughts with her decisions. "My father heard of Sansa's impending nuptials with Loras Tyrell,"

"We haven't arranged any impending nuptials with Loras Tyrell," She says at the same time the handmaiden speaks, "So that's what the other women were talking about,"

"Shae?" Natasha prods as they all stare at the suddenly-enlightened handmaiden.

The woman's lips are in a tight line as she considers her next words. "Ze others—zey talk about how Sansa's a very lucky lady. Zey zay that the man with ze golden hair is a nice match. I just assumed zey were talking about you," She points at Jaime.

"Now we know they're not," Jaime could deduce that the helper already wants to throttle Sansa for the young lady's poor choices. He runs a hand through his frustrated face.

The doors open heavily, cracking the tension inside the room.

"That was strange," Steffon announces his arrival with the usual sarcastic remark. Three out of four people inside Sansa's chambers snort in reply. The male helper walks across the room and kneels in front of Sansa's sobbing figure. "Are you alright?"

Jaime tears his eyes away from the intimate exchange when Sansa locks eyes with Steffon. A heavy feeling falls to his stomach.

He hears her sniffles. If he was the one kneeling in front of her, he would have been taking her in his arms the moment she sets her blue eyes on him.

"What are we going to do?" Sansa's small voice is enough to make Jaime look at her again. He finds himself eye to eye with the younger girl. What must she be thinking? Does she think his opinions matter? Does she want him to tell her that he finds her marriage to Tyrion heartbreaking?

Natasha is the one who finally speaks.

"You marry Tyrion. If you choose to stay in King's Landing, you should marry him. If not, we escape from here."

Ugh I hate myself for burying this in my folders with no recollection of finishing it. What do you think will happen next? Will we finally see a glimpse of Nathalia and Gabriels story? Will Sansa marry Tyrion or choose to escape?