Jon

He couldn't describe the relief he'd felt when he'd seen her face in the crack of that door, to see that she was alive. The relief was twofold as he'd been convinced the imp was going to try and introduce him to yet another foreign lady whom the crown needed wed. Jon may well be the hand of the North but he was also a Targaryen, or at least that's what everyone told him. Right now the queen was the last, there was talk of a blue haired boy making claims but the imp and the spider's little birds had lost track of him. Jon hoped the little shit would surface soon and take the weighty burden off of him, he'd received a raven not a week prior to leaving Winterfell for Braavos;

My dearest Nephew,

For that is what you are, I understand that you are a man of the North and nothing I can do will change that. I have it on good authority you are very much opposed to the proposal I have made. (the proposal had been exactly that… and Jon had no desire to marry his long lost aunt nor sit on that ugly fucking throne) and I respect this decision, you are honourable Jon, and I must prey upon that honour in the hopes that someday soon you will take a bride and provide heirs and that you will take your family name! You my beloved nephew have been legitimized. You are no Bastard, and according to several reliable sources you never were (he'd heard this too, his mother and that Prince had married under a heart tree in Dorne… nonsense) Take a wife, take her North, take her to your bed and put a baby in her. It is not a difficult task I ask, so please consider.

Yours Daenerys.

He was always shocked that she didn't put all her titles in her missives, he had balled the letter and thrown it into the flames with a grunt of irritation. His mind wandered again to Arya, he'd been glad they'd found her and restored her to Winterfell so glad he'd prayed for the first time in years, he'd fallen to his knees beneath the heart tree and given thanks to the old gods and prayed for her to find her own peace. The first week she barely spoke, she hadn't been herself but a month back at home had worn her sharp corners down a little… but only a little.

"Thank the gods someone to fight with!" Arya had called when he finally trudged into the training yard, three of the queen's guards were sat behind her looking cut up and bruised, they stared at their princess with disdain. It reminded Jon of his first days in the watch, when he'd beaten them all and felt so satisfied until the old armourer had brought him down. Only… unlike Grenn and Pyp these boys did have the benefit of a highborn tutelage, these were all Lordlings with armourers and the finest steel but perhaps it could be a teachable moment. He drew her aside with one arm;

"Arya, you have a very unique sword technique" he said diplomatically, and she did… she fought fast and with precision and she moved in unprecedented ways but she was equally adept at hand to hand, well when it was Arya it was more foot to chin. She could knock a man unconscious with one kick much to the delight and the despair of the knights she trained with.

"what do you want Jon?" Arya asked with one eyebrow raised, one hand on hip and a look in her eye that said 'I know you want something'

"Rather than repeatedly cutting the Queen's guard to ribbons, and breaking their jaws…" Arya stopped him with a raised finger and a scrunched nose

"They don't have to fight me if the they don't want!" she declared defensively.

"They do, you are their princess they are sworn to obey you!" Jon shot back, Arya for her part looked utterly shocked and dumbfounded, she turned on her heel to look at the three battered men

"Is that true? Do you just train with me because you think you have to?" Jon groaned, the men didn't need the added confusion of a princess demanding honesty. One man shook his head, one nodded and the other just stared eyes front… pretending he hadn't heard. "Well then I order you from now on to not assume every suggestion I make is an order!" she yelled angrily.

"How will we know My Grace?" the man who'd shook his head asked

"When it is an order… I'll say 'This is a fucking order' is that clear enough for you?" they all nodded their heads this time.

"If you're here you might be useful" Jon said coming to stand by her side and end the awkward and confusing pain felt by the Queens Guard. "Boys it's shocking that this girl… who is no more than ten and seven can beat you, over and over. Your job is to defend the queen and right now if she came up against anyone as competent as your princess she'd be dead." They looked suitably ashamed and Jon was pleased, he missed this… he missed commanding men, making them better, making an army. He wrote scrolls to southerners now, met with merchants, advised his sister and helped rule. He missed this.

"I want you all here first light tomorrow, Princess Arya will be teaching you how to… what do you call that?" he imitated her side on stance.

"Water Dancing." She smiled as they groaned.

"She'll be teaching you how to water dance, tell the other men, I want all the Queens guard who aren't on duty here and we will keep doing this until one of you can disarm your princess… that's an order." The three men hobbled off, to no doubt tell their brothers the 'good news'

"Shall we?" she asked arms spread.

"You know it's not a fair fight." He said with a wolfish grin "I am the Sword of 'the lord'" he used the ridiculous title those crazy fire bastards had given him.

"And I'm the wolf girl of Winterfell" she turned her body side on and pointed her training sword at him, it was thin like needle but the end had been corked so she poked his chest her feet dancing playfully. He grabbed a training sword of his own from the rack and gave her blade a little tap "on your guard" he said taking a step forward, forcing her back.

"have you had a haircut?" she asked as she danced backwards avoiding his advances with ease.

"oh you're a chatty fighter!" he said with a grunt of realization as he swung his sword with two hands, pinning her thinner blade to the ground. He thought he had her when she looked forlorn, but he realised too late that it had been an act, she quickly slid her training needle from his grip and rebutted with a swift slap to his thighs with the side of the thin but dull blade. He was still drawing his own sword back when he felt the crack, it smarted like hell and reminded him sorely of a punishment he'd received from Septa for a crime he could no longer remember, the punishment however would never leave him. He rubbed his thigh and looked at her with accusation "ow."

"and I see you are a slow one." She rebutted finally as she found her stance again.

He thrust again and she parried it effortlessly, their blades clanked vigorously his brute force matched by her speed and her own strength. A crowd had gathered to watch "yield now big brother, it would not do for the 'lords sword' to be bested by a little girl in public!" she called over the clangs, the knights, guards and stable boys who had gathered all chuckled, bets were made and some hoped to finally see the wolf girl defeated.

"Never." He returned, he was having fun… it was strange to acknowledge it but it had been a long while since he'd truly had fun. This was one of the things he'd imagined at the wall, this was one of the scenarios he'd play in his head when he'd take stock of all the things he'd never get to do. He'd been sure she was dead and saw his own as imminent, and he'd so wanted to teach her how to fight he'd never imagined her returning a trained sword with the reflexes of a tom cat. After much grunting and several close calls, he finally had her, he twisted out of reach brought his sword over his shoulder and at a speed to rival her own swung his blunted blade, flat side on to her shins. To her credit she did jump, only too late, the steel caught her booted feet, dragging her legs out from under her leaving her flat on her back. The congregated men cheered and she smiled up at him with great sport "do you yield?" he asked playfully, she rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her elbow posing like a maid in a tapestry, the watching stable boys laughed and Jon joined them... he shouldn't have, before he knew what was happening Arya had spun on her hip and somehow managed to lock his legs in-between her own, with a final surge of movement she twisted her own body and slammed bringing him down to the floor. With her cat like agility she released his legs and flipped back up to her feet, her sword still in hand and pointed directly at his heart.

"I call it a draw" She said casting her sword to the side and reaching down to aid him, the men applauded and dispersed having enjoyed the brief show.

"You bested me." He said as he grabbed her arm and clambered to his feet.

"I cheated… you had me and I caused a distraction with my 'feminine wiles'" she drawled sarcastically. he looked at her mud coated face and hunched shoulders, and couldn't help the snort of laughter.

"I missed you, I missed you so much little sister." He said pulling her into a one armed hug and kissing her mud covered pate. She tensed slightly under his hug, but only momentarily. "I missed you too Jon." He heard a muffled voice from his boiled leather clad chest and felt that wave of relief he often got when he realised again that it was all over. It was similar to the waves of grief he got when he'd suddenly remember that Robb was dead only these ones lightened him.

He parted ways with Arya who had intentions of running with her wolf and made for his father's old Solar, now Sansa's… though they still called it father's. Perhaps in years to come it would remain known simply as Father's Solar and nobody would really know why. The door was open a crack and he watched as Sansa scribbled furiously, her body-man Podrick Payne standing stock still close behind in full armour, he knocked on the door gently and Sansa looked up.

"Might I have a minute Sansa?" he asked, stepping inside. His father's smell was still there.

"You're filthy."

He ignored her chiding tone and walked to her desk, Podrick nodded at him with reverence. He liked Pod, pod had served under him during the Long Night, he'd been Sansa's body man but he'd answered to Jon Snow and when Jon had told him to stick to Sansa he'd taken it very seriously, he hadn't left her side since.

"I'd like to take command of your guard." He said simply, her eyes shot up at him.

"Podrick commands my guard." Her tone was defensive.

"Podrick spends every minute of every day following you around Sansa, he's got no time for training or drills. I don't mean to take the title, merely the job." Jon reasoned looking to Pod for some form of backing, he knew the man had the role in title only, his lieutenants did the training.

"Pod?" she asked, turning to look at him with querying eyes.

"I have no qualms." He stated keeping his eyes forward, a blush crept up his face and Jon couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"If I can be honest… Ser Podrick, I miss it. I was lord commander of the night's watch, a post I thought I'd die in." he did not mention that he had "And as hand I am fine when it comes to traders and controlling the crows but… I'm no politician and Sansa I know you've got smarter men than me on your side" He was well aware of the Imp and his Sister's new found friendship in lieu of an actual marriage "It'd make me feel useful." He finished, attempting to mend some of the pride he may have damaged in the young Podrick. The knight nodded his appreciation and Sansa tilted her head from side to side, clearly weighing up the proposition.

"What kind of training do you intend brother?" Sansa asked, and he smiled again. He liked when she called him that, after years of hearing her call him 'half' it was always reassuring to know that even though he was not her brother at all she considered him her full kin.

"Arya will train them in sword play…" The whole intent of this meeting, he'd set things into motion in the yard without prior consent from his queen… he knew she wouldn't be angry merely irked.

"Arya?"

"Sansa she almost bested me, well she did best me but she cheated" Sansa stifled a laugh at this "Your Grace, not one of your guard has beaten her, she was trained by a house of assassins this much we know." He looked suddenly to Podrick who's face always betrayed him, there was no shock… Sansa had already told him "If they trained her they have trained others, others who could be persuaded to kill you. I need to know your guard is capable of defending you."

"Lord Jon is right my Grace; your safety must be paramount" Podrick interjected.

"Well there we have it. Jon you will take charge of my guard… Master of the Queen's guard and Hand to the Throne Lord Jon… have you picked a name yet?" she enquired in that nudging way she did when she thought him silly.

"No." Jo responded his demeanour sour again.

"My Grace…" Sam had popped his head round the door "her Grace Arya would like to know if you could be tempted to walk with her in the Godswood with the wolves?" The Maester said with a smile, he was oft encouraging his queen to take more leisure time and the return of her sister had afforded him more opportunities. She complained about headaches and Sam was convinced it was because she frowned so persistently, Jon was convinced it was because that crown was so heavy but never voiced this opinion.

"I think I will." She stood and Podrick made to move forward with her "Ser Podrick you stay here and take something to sup, Arya will be more likely to talk if we are alone." She said with a kind smile and a confidential pat on his arm. Jon watched the knights face fight the forlorn expression it was desperate to cast, with a great struggle Pod managed neutrality in time for his queens eyes to be cast upon him. "goodbye Jon" she said softly with a wave of her hand as she left with a preoccupied expression, Arya hadn't eased as comfortably back into life with Sansa as she had with him. Their relationship had never been an easy one but he did know that Sansa harboured a great deal of guilt, and assumed that Arya too had similar feelings but probably not to the same extent.

"Give them time." Sam said noting Jon's contemplative face.

"Stop reading my thoughts Samwell." Jon shot only half joking, he'd long since decided the Maester was some sort of emotional warg, he seemed to absorb other people's feelings giving a simple voice to them no matter how complex they initially seem.

"Pod, go eat." Jon said suddenly, noting that the knight had not moved from his spot.

"I eat when My Grace is in her chamber" he said all honour and nobility, ever the good knight.

"That cannot be healthy." Samwell responded entering the solar fully.

"I have a routine."

"Fuck sake Pod, she's not going to suddenly die if you're not staring at her." Jon shot, he felt for the lad. He knew the pressure of lives in your hands but the war was won he'd done his job well.

Samwell tried a softer approach "Don't you have a hobby?"

"Or a girl in town?" Jon added thinking this would help.

"I don't have a girl my Lord" Pod declared, his hackles clearly up he was on the defensive and Jon could sense it.

"Well it would be difficult to find a girl wouldn't it Pod while you're staring so hard at my sister" Jon had meant it as a jape, like the ribbings they would give on the wall. Something to lighten the mood but when he saw the blood rushing to the man's face through the gaps on his helmet he realised that perhaps he had found the route of Pod's problems. Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably and Jon raised his hands in a sign of peace "a jest Pod, now go eat something that's an order." The knight seemed to take the order with gratitude as he almost ran from the room.

"well that was tactful" Sam glared at him with accusation

"What did I do?" he asked genuinely shocked by this revelation.

"Everyone knows Podrick is in love with… well with the queen." the Maester gasped with exasperation.

"since when?"

Samwell Tarly shook his head "you really do know nothing"