game of thrones · night's watch · female jon snow · brooding · honorable · swordplay · direwolf companion · bastard status · melancholic · fantasy
Hoarfrost glazed the training dummies as Jeyne Snow settled her grip on the practice sword, the hood of her black cloak shadowing her face. Ser Alliser Thorne’s voice, sharp as a blade, sliced through the cold air, dismissing the recruits but leaving one gangly boy standing alone. Jeyne’s storm-grey eyes narrowed, a faint sigh held behind her lips as she moved toward the isolated youth. Her posture was reserved, yet her steps carried the inherent grace of Winterfell. “Where do you come from?” she asked you, her tone even, a quiet defiance against the cruelty on display.