Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
MAIA'S hair blew in the gust of wind as her arms locked around Jon's waist. Their group of him, Sansa, Davos, and Maia rode through the newly resurfaced camp, looking down at the gathered men from their horses. Maia rested her head on Jon's shoulder, leaning herself against him as he rode her horse amongst the troops of the camp.
"Stannis camped here on his way to Winterfell," Ser Davos mentioned from the right.
Sansa furrowed her brow. "And that's a good thing?"
Maia couldn't help but notice that Sansa's tone was always laced with spite around the former knight. Davos nodded at her words regardless. "He was the most experience commander in Westeros. He chose this place for a reason." He pointed his finger upward. "Those mountains are a natural fortification. There's a stream down there for the horses, and bathing if you please."
"We're not staying here long." Jon muttered, causing Maia to glance at him. "Another storm could hit any day."
Maia stared at a group of Mormont men talking together. "We're in the North. Shouldn't that be a given by now?"
"Aye," Davos agreed, "the snow defeated Stannis as much as the Boltons did."
The four dismounted their horses, allowing a couple guards to hoard them away as they continue their stride through the camp on foot. Maia kept one of her hands locked around Jon's, watching the way some of their men's brows furrowed at the sight of the bruise on her face.
"We have to march on Winterfell now, while we still can." Jon suggested, staring at each and every one of the troops while they walked.
"Two thousand Wildlings," the Onion Knight counted, "two hundred Hornwoods, one hundred and fourty three Mazins –"
Sansa interrupted, "Sixty-two Mormonts."
"It could be worse." Maia replied, noticing Jon's grip tightening on her digits.
"It's not what we hoped for," Davos shrugged as they sauntered in the snow, "but we still have a chance. If we're careful and smart."
Ser Davos began to look back after hearing a couple men shouting profanities at each other. The Widling and Hornwood men got close, bumping their chests against one another for intimidation. Davos groaned, "Oh, for fuck's sake," before stomping over to the circle that surrounded the two troops.
Maia released a huff as the three continued to walk to the edge of the camp. "So he's your most trusted advisor now?" Sansa inquired to Jon. "Because he secured sixty-two men from a ten-year-old?"
The blonde furrowed her brow. "He's more than that, Sansa."
"Ser Davos is the reason I'm standing here talking to you both and he served Stannis for years." Jon tried to reason with her.
