nysalogs | [Open] You'll be ruling over a graveyard

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[Open] You'll be ruling over a graveyard

Who: Jon Snow (

song_of_ice)
What: Returning from Cryosleep with new memories
When: 9/04
Where: The market, Entertainment District
Warning(s): None

Market

[What was it they called the sudden emergence of memories he did not have before? A malfunction? It seemed a poor choice of words for a time that held so much meaning and hope, now suddenly ripped away as he woke to find himself once more in this waking nightmare. It was a dream, or at least it felt like one, though he couldn't distinguish which was reality and which was the illusion. There were times they felt one and the same. He envied his friends and family that still slept, unaware of what this place was like.

Pushing himself not to linger long before the pods of those he knew now and been reunited with, he returned to Olympia and the life he had begun to forge for himself. He wasn't alone, at least. Ghost was by his side, wandering with him as Jon explored and refamiliarized himself with the various districts.

The market was at least crowded enough that his thoughts were set aside by the noise and activity. There were things to catch his eye, things he remembered he needed before the "malfunction." Others tugged at memories he couldn't predict would mean so much to him.

One of the nearby stalls offered carved objects, one near calling out to him. He lifted the wooden dragon up, inspecting the craftsmanship and searching it for signs of the magnificent beasts he had seen before.]

They're different than this.

[It was said more to himself, even as he turned to look at the person that joined him.]

The Entertainment District

["You'll be ruling over a graveyard", he had told Daenerys. The warnings the insistence that they all needed to band together to defeat the Night King, what was the point of it all? He thought that if he could have one more chance at returning to Westeros, he would find a way to defeat the Storm. He had that chance and failed again. No, but it wasn't really Westeros he returned to, only a dream of a time when he managed to find some happiness, no matter how brief it was.

All of these thoughts merged together in his mind, failures and missed opportunities and the greater loss still, not just of his world but someone else. It was all too much and put too great a strain on his shoulders. Rather than accept it and the silence, he left the Stark home as evening fell, following the sound of music as he made his way to the Entertainment District. There was at least laughter and amusement around him, even if he didn't feel able to take part.

For a time he watched the dancing and listened to the music, but there was a greater draw to his attention. The tavern that rested in the middle of the district. The ale was good enough and the room lively, reminding him of the Great Hall in Winterfell. Despite the activity, it was simple enough to find a seat at the bar and have his drink served quickly.]

You weren't saving this seat for anyone?

[Said to the figure next to him, suddenly aware that he had slipped in without thought or concern to anyone else.]

Closed to Robb

[There were a number of things on his mind and while he could share most with a number of people he considered friends, there was one small aspect that only Robb would understand. He knew what it was to choose love over duty, over a crown. While he didn't regret his choice, he still had to make sense of it all. The feelings that overwhelmed him, different from any before and sheer relief at finding something greater than the war and the struggle to survive.

He knew where it could lead him, but he charged forward anyway.

There was so much else to say and tell him, things of the future that he couldn't before or had tried to, but never managed. Newer memories put those aside, helping him find a confidence he didn't have before. Maybe he wanted his brother to see that? Or maybe he simply wanted someone to tell him that he made a good king, however short it lasted.

It wasn't much of a shock to find Robb alone, as Sansa was always more social and friendly, likely out with others. He pulled a chair out and set it beside Robb's, running his hands over his face.]

How long was I gone?

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[Hey, she's curious. Different stalls in the market, different goods. It never hurt to shop around even if she wasn't the sort of look for the lowest prices on anything. Or hadn't been in much of her fairly rich life. It helped though that she recognized someone she thought decently well of at this particular stall, of course.

She tips her brows upward. Maybe he hadn't meant to talk to her about it but she can't help but look a little surprised.]

You've seen them?

[He nods, slipping the merchant a bit of coin. It might not look like Daenerys' dragons, but it stirred something inside of him, memories and longing. Maybe having it would return that piece of himself that felt empty.]

I saw three of them. They were large enough to be ridden. Great, magnificent beasts.

['The dragons are my children.']

Dragons don't exist in your world?

[Mai hoists one of the other figures into her hand. This one is a bear - just a bear, much like the one the Earth King had. It's standing on it's hind legs and frankly the definition to it is pretty good.]

They used to, so I've been told anyhow. They say that dragons were the original firebenders but in the end the last few were hunted down.

[She doesn't seem to have much emotion over it one way or the other. It's just fact for Fire Nation children that dragons were gone and she's never really heard otherwise.]

[There was a hawk that seemed to be in flight, its talons bared, all of it carefully carved and intricately detailed. He held it out to her.]

They said dragons were gone from world. The last of them died long ago. Stories never just end.

[A pause.]

I keep thinking that this is temporary, that eventually we will go home. It hasn't fully set in that home is gone.

[A plain hawk, yet again emphasizing how different the animals are here. She takes the carving though, turning it around in curiosity. They do remind her of the messenger hawks at home at least.]

They don't, hm? Seems like the stories from our worlds did a pretty good job of ending.

[She may sound a bit bitter. She hates thinking about home as much as she does end up thinking about it. As much as she does end up spending time in front of those containers bearing everyone she knows and loves in them.]

[That was punch to the gut, but he couldn't deny her logic. It felt as though he were just home, but he knew in reality it was simply memories being returned to him. To go from that experience to now, it was easy to forget their worlds were gone.]

They haven't ended. We are still standing and we continue that story, only in this place instead of our worlds.

[He wasn't relinquishing hope about that yet.]

[At that Mai can't help but look over, brows raised and something of a mildly awed look.]

You're pretty optimistic for being such a brooding guy.

[That almost makes her want to laugh really. Here she's gone and woke up in a whole new world with her old one in ruins and still she runs across brooding, optimistic men. It makes her a little homesick really.]

[He doesn't mean to, but he huffs out a laugh.]

I don't think I have been told that before.

[The optimism, not the brooding. He's heard the brooding before.]

Maybe I have just faced worse odds then this?

Well, maybe you haven't had much of a chance to be optimistic before.

[He's got a good point though. She tilts her head a bit before she pauses to pay for the hawk she's holding.]

Things could definitely be worse when it comes to places anyhow. It's surprisingly peaceful here.

[Or maybe not surprisingly but she's still getting used to the idea of a constant war not being a quiet rumbling in the background of daily life.]

Aye, I suppose that is true. When you're facing a war, optimism doesn't really come into play.

[He looks around thoughtfully, considering her words with an open mind.]

I don't think I ever imagined a place like this could exist. It is peaceful and quiet. [It's said as a man bumps into him, chasing after his screaming child.] For the most part.

I don't know what to do with myself now that I don't have a war to fight. I don't know what future we can have here.

[What kind of future they can have. She makes a sound, examining her figure with something of a keener interest. It's more a pretense but Mai can't even acknowledge that much to herself.]

What kind of future can you have built on top of your ruined world and sleeping family.

[Boy that sounds pessimistic but damn if she doesn't feel it right now. If she hasn't been feeling it this whole time. Her argument on the network a few weeks back comes to mind, vehemence in her own self-guilt high. In the end she sounds more bitter than anything.]

Who knows. I have more than a few people I know who would yammer on right about now about how we need to strive for a good life or look at things positively or something like that.

[It was a good question and one he often asked himself. For all the optimism he was offering Mai, he seemed to fall short of giving true answers. Maybe when he found them, they could both believe in something better.]

I don't know. I know though that this is the last world that can be a home to us. If the Storm destroys it, we won't have a future left.

[He toys with the dragon in his hands, fidgeting as he tried not to think about those still asleep. They would wake soon enough. They had to.]

I'll try not to "yammer". [He smiles at her.] I don't think you should give up yet.

[At his encouragement the woman peers at him a bit, then she huffs out a laugh.]

You're a real good guy, huh. Always a good word of encouragement for the downtrodden.

[A bit broody, sure, but he seems sensible. And she'll take broody and sensible over most people any day.

That said she starts to move away from the vendor, giving her hand a gesturing wave that could only be to bid him to come on.]

If you stick around this stall much longer, the owner is going to think you're pining after him.

[Said owner looks up. For someone who carves such intricate designs, he sure is a big brute of a man.]

I try to be.

[He never felt that he matched up to his personal code, but that was nearly impossible to reach.

He followed her, fidgeting with the dragon between his gloved fingers.]

He might think he can get more coin from me.

Maybe. You seem like the type who would be a sucker for a sob story.

[She says it with enough amusement to her tone not to make the sentiment come across too harshly.]

What is a sob story?

[He has an idea of what that is, but can't say for certain.]

[Huh, is that an uncommon phrase? Maybe. So many things are different between worlds, it seems.]

Usually it's a sad story that's supposed to make you feel bad for someone so you'll do something for them. It's just another part of how some people try to manipulate you.

[She was cynical, but in a way that was different than Tyrion and Sansa. Was it really cynicism or just fatigue with the world? It was hard to say.]

What is yours then? We all have them, I think.

My sob story?

[She says the words like it's a ridiculous concept.]

Sorry to disappoint you but I'm pretty sob story free.

You have a story of some sort.

[It might not be a sob story, but he suspected there was more to her than she said.]

Nothing impressive.

[She gestures with her figurine absentmindedly.]

My father was a governor so I grew up not wanting for anything, as long as I didn't make much of a fuss. There's a saying that goes 'Children should be seen and not heard' and my mother was particularly fond of that idea.

I have a baby brother, Tom-Tom. He's four. Before all of this my mother, brother and I were staying with an aunt of mine. She ran a flower shop so I helped with that.

[And made very bad bouquets.]

[ The entertainment district isn’t Theon’s first choice for much of anything, but they’re a lively enough bunch, and it makes far more sense to duck into a nearby tavern after guard duty than it does to travel to another district. He’s the Theon from their youth in Winterfell, laughing and exchanging japes with a small group of strangers—until the sound of Jon’s voice snaps him out of it. He turns, makes brief eye contact, then quickly downs the last of his drink, his smile fading as he slams his glass down onto the bar with a little too much force. ]

You can have both of them, if you like. I was just leaving.

[ "You claimed Jon knew of what you spoke; he doesn’t". Theon’s last big argument with Robb is still fresh in his mind, leaving him feeling wounded and angry with both of Eddard’s sons. He doesn’t trust himself not to throw a punch, and that wouldn’t look good for someone not even two months into his guard job. ]

[Somewhere in the jumble of memories, he recalls that Theon had wanted him to verify to Robb that he hadn't been responsible for a number of the horrors at Winterfell. He had felt angry then, close to taking Theon's head himself. Now...he was just tired.

The accord they reached on Dragonstone was still fresh in his mind, jumbled with so many other emotions. A greater understanding had been reached and while Theon seemed the same as he was when they were growing up in Winterfell, it didn't remove the compassion and newfound respect Jon had found for him.]

You are a Greyjoy and a Stark.

[He turns to look at Theon, much younger than himself and shielding himself behind smiles and arrogance. How had he missed these things in his youth?]

You don't have to choose.

[ Theon stands to leave, but Jon’s words shock him both into silence and into stillness. Slowly, he turns to stare at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he struggles to cope with what he’s just heard.

Is it acceptance? Only in Theon's vainest, most desperate wishes had he ever dared to dream of being called a Stark. Even then, the words would only be from Robb, or from Lord Eddard himself, but Jon—? Theon and Jon have never been anything but opposing forces, silent glares and murmured insults from across the room. Theon's surprise is impossible to mask, and no matter how hard he tries to pull forward a smile and a laugh, it seems horribly forced. ]

Has someone knocked you in the head?

[ He can’t even allow himself to accept what he’s hearing as truth. Even if this were Robb and not Jon, he isn't certain he could allow it. He already mistrusts his own mind. How can he know if what he’s hearing from others isn't just a game? Ramsay played mind games with him, and that ended poorly for everyone except Ramsay himself. ]

I’m a Greyjoy. I was born a Greyjoy. A Greyjoy is…all I can ever be.

[ Much to his disappointment. It shows on his face. ]

[He didn't expect Theon to understand or recognize the sentiment. There were differences between the man he knew, even before their encounter on Dragonstone, and the man before him now. There were things he said that didn't make sense or fall into the events that Jon remembered.

It doesn't change the reaction that Jon expected from Theon. He was lost, searching for his place in Winterfell since he was a boy. It was something Jon could understand, perhaps more than ever before. So many years had passed and neither of them were children, no matter how young Theon acted. There was no point to keep up this rivalry and bitter disdain. In the end, he was closer to family than Jon admitted or acknowledged before.]

Something like that.

[There's even a smirk on his face as he looks up at Theon, amusement in place of a brooding countenance.]

There is no shame in being both, Theon.

[He can see that disappointment and understands that struggle is still alive inside of him. All Jon can do is offer the same wisdom he had before.]

Our father was a father to you too. More of a father than Balon Greyjoy. He raised you and treated you as well as his own. You are a Stark, you have always been a Stark. If you try to choose between them, you'll never feel accepted or at home. You can be both, Theon.

[ The smirk that forms on Jon’s face is entirely too much. Has he ever seen a smile, let alone amusement on Jon Snow’s face in all the years they’ve known one another? Is he being mocked? Made a fool of? Jon was never his favorite member of the Stark household. They always clashed, always disliked one another, but Theon never felt him to be untrustworthy. Now, he finds himself doubting everything, as he’s been doing so often lately.

He knows Jon speaks the truth. Lord Eddard, no matter how hard Theon tried to push him away, was more of a father to him than Balon ever was. He feared that stern face as a boy, but looking back—he feared Balon’s cold eyes just as much. One man could have taken his head, but one man could have been the cause of it. One man would have merely carried out the sentence, but another would have been the cause of it. All the same, Theon’s eyes narrow, in confusion and suspicion as he tries to make sense of it all. ]

Why are you saying this?

[ There is no shame in being both. How can that be true? His father had belittled him for his northern clothing, his northern ideals, his ties to Robb. The Northmen had looked upon him with scorn and judgment for his name alone, but he wants to believe it. Desperately, he wants to believe that Jon is telling him what he’s wanted to hear for half his life: who he is, who he can be. ]

[It had been easier to avoid Theon during their youth, not wanting to bother with seeing his grating smirk or the way he latched onto Robb. It was strange to look back to those times and have the awareness to know that it was jealousy that fueled their rivalry, as well as a clash of personalities. They both wanted what they believed the other had. A sense of belonging in the Stark family, knowing that they would never fully be Starks.

But maybe being scattered to the wind was enough for them to understand what they did have. Whatever their blood, they were raised by Lord Eddard and fostered, raised as though they were his trueborn sons. It was a part of himself he wanted, but was at war with other loyalties. Bad decisions and a desire to choose one over the other created conflict, leading them both to where they were.

It didn't need to be this way, especially not here. Not anymore.]

Do you know anything about the malfunctions that can sometimes happen? Sansa came back after being returned to the pod. [He looked pointedly at Theon.] Her opinion of you was changed because memories were returned to her. She remembered you rescuing her from Winterfell.

[He shrugged.]

I remember Dragonstone and you wanting to rescue your sister.

I have already spoken to Sansa.

[ His eyes darken as he avoids Jon’s gaze. It had been a strange experience, especially when his previous conversation with Sansa had been so cold. He doesn’t wish to speak of it further, not when he still can’t recall rescuing anyone from anything. Forgiveness, gratitude, whatever it may be—it doesn’t feel earned. He shrugs it off, and instead lets out a sudden bark of laughter. ]

Who have you been speaking to? Have you met my sister yet? Asha will never be in need of rescuing.

[ That isn’t Asha. That isn’t who she is. Theon refuses to admit it out loud, but he knows that she’s more iron than he can ever hope to be. Again, he finds himself doubtful and confused. He’s never known Jon to be a liar, not truly, but everything he thought he knew is being slowly deconstructed and he doesn’t know how to handle any of it. ]

[Yara. Asha. These differences were confusing, but he knew by now that others seemed to have different memories and with all of these different worlds, it was possible there were different events. For a man that knew nothing, he was catching on quickly.]

Euron took her.

[That name remained the same, he hoped.]

You both had pledged your fleet to help Daenerys regain her throne. [He doesn't know what in exchange for, he can only assume overthrowing Euron. The man was dangerous and mad, much like Cersei. Little wonder they had allied with each other.] The fleet was attacked by the silence and Ya-Asha was taken.

You left to rally your men and rescue her.

[ Where Jon understands, Theon flounders beneath the weight of each new piece of information. It’s overwhelming, and feels as though he must be drowning. All too often, things don’t align with what he thought was right. He begins to doubt the truth, begins to see everything as a slight against him, and begins to doubt who or what he can trust.

Lies, his mind begins to quietly taunt as Jon speaks. He’s lying, just as Ramsay did. You thought you could trust him as well, and look what happened.

Theon offers him a brief sidelong glance, troubled eyes and knitted brows, still not truly believing him. Euron is the maddest of all his uncles, that much is true, and he had been glad to be spared him when he returned to Pyke, but Asha is different. She’s every ounce of an ironborn, every ounce of Lord Balon’s kin. She knows who she is, and he envies her for it. He can see her sooner accepting death than rescuing. ]

Euron killed my father. Should he wake here, Asha will kill him. I believe she would have done the same back home.

[ They came to an agreement, a promise, that Euron Crow’s Eye would see death by any means, but he knows it will be Asha who ends his uncle’s life. She seeks justice for Balon’s death, but Theon still struggles to force himself to even feel something for his distance late father.

But there’s more still to make his mind spin, more added to the top of the pile. Again, he laughs. ]

In my life, I’ve sworn my loyalty to only one King. Your brother. I betrayed him.

[ He opened that wound on his own, and it still hasn’t healed. He fears it never will. Apologies don’t act as very good stitches, and he’ll tear them out again and again with each argument he and Robb spark. ]

Asha can do as she likes, but I will pledge nothing to another ruler. If you’re lying to me, Snow, I don’t know what you hope to earn from it.

It's not so simple as that. I don't know what happened in the battle, only that Euron caught the fleet by surprise and that Asha was taken. He used her to taunt you in the Dragonpit. [Likely keeping her alive for that reason.] I don't know your uncle, only what I saw. He is like Ramsay, it's all a game to him.

[As far as he could see, anyway. He had taken up with Cersei and seemed willing to abandon them all to death. Then there was that look he gave Daenerys. He gripped his mug tightly, letting that anger and jealousy he had ignored come back over him.

No, now was not the time.]

You did.

[He won't deny or gloss over the things Theon had done. He knew what it was to carry guilt for the loss of a brother. Theon was as much their brother as Bran and Rickon were and he had failed Robb as Jon had. Not exactly the same, but that didn't make the guilt any less heavy.]

I told you this at Dragonstone. [But he would say it again.] I can't forgive you for everything you've done, but what I can, I do.

[He shook his head.]

Have you ever known me to lie, Theon?

[ Theon listens, and he offers Jon a long, searching look, his eyes full of doubt. Jon’s words sound honest, his tone sincere, but Theon is lost and confused, set adrift in a sea of impossible odds and ends that just don’t match up. His doubt overwhelms his better judgement, painting everything and everyone to look more sinister than they ever did before. Jon Snow, always a truthful young man, becomes just as malicious and deceitful as Ramsay beneath the shadow of Theon’s paranoia.

He shakes his head, his expression hardening. He won’t be fooled, not after Winterfell. ]

I do not believe you.

[ But gods, he wants to. He wants to be accepted, he wants to know that he’s truly worth something, he wants it more than anything…he just won’t allow it of himself. ]

I'll not believe a word you have to say.

[It was frustrating to be back in this situation, to have information and not be believed. The only relief was that it wasn't something so pressing as the dead marching towards Westeros. It wasn't a surprise either that Theon didn't believe him. He hadn't experienced Ramsay fully yet and he didn't lose himself to that degree.

There was a chance as well that this Theon had a different experience than the one Jon knew.

Regardless, he looked up at Theon thoughtfully, the understanding expression not wavering under his dismissal.]

You don't have to. It doesn't change what I say here. You are a Stark as much as a Greyjoy and you are family to me.

[ Theon feels a lump forming in his throat, but he can’t work out what emotion he’s feeling. Part of him wants to punch Jon in the face, but some other part of him is very close to breaking down into tears. It’s the acceptance that he’s always wanted, it’s right there, and it’s killing him that he can’t allow himself to have it. He wants to trust, he wants so desperately to believe, but everything is working against him. It isn't just Jon. It's his own paranoia, it's Ramsay, it's this place and everything that everyone else has said to him and the way that none of the pieces seem to match up in any cohesive manner.

He hesitates, then laughs, choked and raw and as forced as ever. A smile isn't enough to mask his emotions now. ]

Goodbye, Snow.

[ He knows he can’t avoid Jon forever. He’ll need to face him again eventually, but for now, Theon’s headed for the door, headed for an escape. He won't be returning to this particular pub any time soon. ]

[ the tavern's a lovely distraction, perfect for a fairy who has been in a bit of a mood lately. it has nothing to do with the world she's found herself in, and everything to do with the friends still sleeping; people who'd be useful here, and deserve a chance at existence in this world. her incentive may have been to protect him, but left to her own devices, impatience tends to take over.

she wandered around to the entertainment district because of a few happy memories, yet Tink hasn't been able to enjoy those without a drink or two, either. she's been making empty conversation with the people around her, trying to throw herself into the distraction of getting to know them, when a familiar face ends up beside her.] Jon?

[ his presence practically demands a smile, and she finds herself leaning over like she might give him a hug - and catching herself at the last moment, pressing a hand against his arm instead. perhaps that'll make him a bit more comfortable than the embrace she'd normally offer. she's trying to learn here.]

I wasn't, but if I was saving it for anyone, you know it'd be you.

[It was a relief to see her again. It was through Tink that he had become fond of the entertainment district, seeing it more than simple noise and overcrowding. He had fond memories of exploring it and somehow felt at home...as much as he could. But there would always be a missing element without her presence to help lighten his existence.

It still baffled him how she managed to lower his walls enough to see personal thoughts and memories that he never really shared with anyone. Perhaps that was part of her magic? It didn't matter in the end, a part of him needed it.]

I would do the same for you.

[He sees the instinct in her. While he's a bit more used to hugs from her now, he still hasn't reached that point yet. He places his hand over hers in greeting, familiar enough for a close friend.]

I haven't seen you in over a week. Have you settled in yet?

No, I haven't.

[ don't mind her honesty, she sees no point in giving Jon anything less than the truth. it'd taken her years to make a home in Neverland, and even with her best efforts that treehouse hadn't felt like one. the prospects are brighter here, but it'll still take time. she hasn't gotten used to the idea of not having a home to go back to. having Diana around helps, yet nothing will ever erase the friends she's waiting for.

but it is nice to be in the company of a new friend again. she'd been worried.] I'm afraid I'll need longer than a week for that. I'm still warming up to this place.

[ she has high hopes for all of them, especially Jon, and she's shared as much with him before. he's far too good a man to close himself off the way he had before.]

What about you? What have you been up to?

Is it possible to feel at home here?

[It was strange to see her without her usual optimism. She had been the one pressing Jon to not live his life alone and had pulled him back into some measure of living. Not everyone could manage the implications of their world being gone, but she had weathered through it well enough.

It wasn't much of a surprise though that she was struggling a little. He could understand and share that difficulty as well.]

I was in stasis. [That's what it was called, right?] They said it was something of a malfunction? There were memories of home I was missing. It happened to my sister earlier.

[He ran his hands over his face with a weary sigh.]

I was near to saving my lands and facing the Night King and his armies before the storm came. There was hope, but now it's gone.

[ is it possible to feel at home here? yes, she believes it is. she's seen people reunited with loved ones, given a second chance to appreciate their time together. and for every person who isn't quite so lucky, there are new beginnings and friendships fostered; people willing to connect over what they've been through. it'll never be the same as her previous home, though, and that's the feeling that's started to catch up to her.

there are people sleeping who she may never see again, and she'll never stop feeling the loss of them.]

Stasis. [ she straightens up, already concerned at that explanation alone. stasis, malfunctions, and added memories - not just to Jon, but his sister, too. she doesn't like the sound of that.]

There's a different sort of hope for all of us now, I suppose that's what I've been struggling with.

[ hope for their world no longer exists, now the best they can do is hope for more with this one.]

Are you alright?

Edited 2017-09-17 01:48 (UTC)

There is quiet and peace. It's not as comforting as it should be. I don't know what hope there is, only a life that I wasn't prepared for. [He sighed.] I didn't think about the future or what I would do after the war.

[Only because he didn't think he would live. What sort of life did he have waiting for him? A man that returned from the dead. But now, for the first time, he had that chance and found a reason. Only now, the world was gone and he had to find that purpose again.]

From the sound of things, this place is better than where you have been.

[Neverland. Her story stayed with him.]

I don't know. [Which was the sad truth.] I felt as if I was there again, only to wake up and be back here. It's losing the world all over again.

Most people don't get a chance to prepare for life. You have one here, I know you won't waste it.

[ the most maddening part of living here is how everyone's struggles are simultaneously the same and wildly different. they're all adjusting to this world and the loss of the one they were familiar with, but with everyone taken from different points in their lives, nothing quite aligns as easily as it would otherwise. she's from a world of fairies and magic, and Jon?

well, there's not much she's heard that sounds good about it - but it was his, and he would have fought for it.]

It's hard not to look back. I keep thinking of Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest - like they're still there and I might just wander back someday.

[ the loss is only real in a moments, and when she forgets, she imagines a future back in the world she called home.]

But you did wake up here, you're not at war. And there's time for you to decide what you want your future to be.

Most people don't have three chances then.

[But he trailed off from that thought, not wanting to talk overly long about his death. Tink at least knew that magic existed in his world, and could likely guess how he knew about it, but there wasn't much reason to address it now. No matter his poor attempt at a joke.

What she said made sense, since he had felt it as well about Westeros. That there was still a change he could find his way home. But that only seemed to be possible with lost memories and dreams.]

Aye, I suppose so. I don't know what I want now. What I had before isn't here and I don't know if it will be. I don't want to hope.

[He turns to meet her eyes, genuinely curious.]

What do you want your future to be?

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[Open] You'll be ruling over a graveyard

Market

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And then somehow I missed this thread. My apologies!

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entertainment district

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