"We certainly will appreciate the help. Any assistance we get is welcome at this point." He's been having trouble getting anyone to agree to help, so this chance had been a blessing. And he's aware that both sides will want to get something out of this alliance, which is why he had readily agreed to allow the Grisha to make the North their new home, and take one of them as his wife. (It means, also, that he's not risking offending any of his lords by choosing someone else's daughter or granddaughter over his.)
He opens the door to the garden and escorts her inside. The steamy air carries the scent of dirt, and a few rows of vegetables peek out. It's much diminished from when Jon grew up here, after the years of strife.
"The garden sustained some damage in the battles that have been fought here, but this was among the first places to be repaired, so that we could begin growing food for winter." He comes to a stop in front of a spot where a rose bush grows, empty of any flowers, but still clinging to life despite everything. "There's a legend of a bard whose singing so impressed the lord of Winterfell that he was offered whatever he wanted as a reward, and all he asked for was the most beautiful flower growing in the gardens. Lord Stark offered him one of the winter roses from the gardens, and the next morning his maiden daughter had disappeared. In her bed was the rose the bard had received from her father." He looks longingly at the bush. Perhaps one of the Grisha can revive it and bring the roses back to Winterfell. "It's said that my aunt Lyanna loved the scent of them."
no subject
He opens the door to the garden and escorts her inside. The steamy air carries the scent of dirt, and a few rows of vegetables peek out. It's much diminished from when Jon grew up here, after the years of strife.
"The garden sustained some damage in the battles that have been fought here, but this was among the first places to be repaired, so that we could begin growing food for winter." He comes to a stop in front of a spot where a rose bush grows, empty of any flowers, but still clinging to life despite everything. "There's a legend of a bard whose singing so impressed the lord of Winterfell that he was offered whatever he wanted as a reward, and all he asked for was the most beautiful flower growing in the gardens. Lord Stark offered him one of the winter roses from the gardens, and the next morning his maiden daughter had disappeared. In her bed was the rose the bard had received from her father." He looks longingly at the bush. Perhaps one of the Grisha can revive it and bring the roses back to Winterfell. "It's said that my aunt Lyanna loved the scent of them."