Trueblood || Jon Snow ✓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊 ~ 𝖉𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋

THOUGH YELENA WAS A PRINCES OF THE SOUTH, she was sent every spring and summer to Winterfell. Cersei ached terribly for her daughter back every single time, but Robert insisted it was the best way to secure her relationship with the eldest of his old friend Eddard Stark's children, Robb Stark. When Yelena was young her father had chosen the boy to be her betrothed, the best possible way to strengthen their alliance with the north, and ensure his daughter was in good hands when he let her go. And so it was that she stood beside the boy who was like a little brother to her as he learned to shoot; Brandon Stark.

Two of Ned Stark's sons, Robb and Jon stood on the other side of the boy from Yelena as he let his arrow loose, missing the target by a long shot. Robb let out the tiniest of chuckles, shrugging innocently when Yelena gave him a look.

Jon placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Go on." He murmured encouragingly. "Father's watching. And your mother too."

It was true that Lord and Lady Stark, who were like another set of parents to Yelena, were watching just above. Bran nodded, reaching for another arrow. This one went straight over the wall behind the target and both Jon and Robb laughed this time. Yelena allowed herself the smallest of smiles, rolling her eyes at the boys. At least Bran was trying.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Ned called from above.

Robb pointed immediately to Yelena. "Our very own princess here."

"Don't call me that." she snapped, knowing how aware he was of her hatred of her friends being so formal. She didn't even enjoy wearing dresses, which is why she stood decked out in pants, coat and boots.

"Whatever you say princess."

Had Robb been anyone but one of her best friends, she'd have skewered him right there, but when the words were from his mouth, they elicited nothing but a snort. Crouching down next to young Bran, she met his eyes, helping him readjust his position. "You've got to tilt your elbow up a bit more, like this. And don't think too much." she looked back at him. "Well don't look at me, look at the target." she grinned, standing again.

"Relax your bow arm." Robb suggested.

The boy seemed about to loose the arrow when another slipped by, hitting the target right in the center. They turned to see Arya Stark behind them, and Yelena raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Well done Ari." she praised. The girl gave a little bow, and then Bran was after her, the two of them giggling as they chased through the courtyard.

Yelena and the boys laughed as they watched, shocked and impressed at Arya's perfect shot. They chatted for a short bit before one of Lord Stark's men came down to see them.

"My lords. My princess." He gave a little bow. "Lord Stark asks that you meet him at the North gate to attend an execution."

Her eyebrows drew together, but she nodded, wondering in the back of her mind what this one had done. She'd never been particularly fond of such things, but as a member of the royal family, it was her duty to oversee them when she was in the north. She headed off to grab her gloves and cloak, not seeing the gaze of a Snow trailing after her; one of sympathy and maybe a little longing.

It wasn't long before she rode up to the gate on her tan stallion, Dawn, the horse she'd been riding since she was three.

***

She stood just ahead of Robb, Jon and Bran in her cloak of wolf's fur, trying not to stare at the bloodstained ground and trying not to think of how much she'd rather be doing anything other than permitting an execution. Her fists clenched as she waited for them to order the man to his knees, once again not seeing the sympathetic look Jon was giving her.