CHAPTER 27 | THE RETURN

MAIA woke up slumped against the heart tree. Little droplets of snowflakes cascaded onto her eyes, clouding her vision for a moment. Her head hurt tremendously, but she managed to sit up with the help of the weirwood in back of her.

She had returned. Everything she researched was true.

She couldn't help her giddiness as she began to laugh. She had done it; after four long months, enduring a therapist's wishes and medication – Maia had returned to Westeros. Somehow, some way, Edna was right. Her destiny remained in this world, though she hadn't known before.

Her backpack had somehow ripped on her travel there, but all the contents were fine. Despite the raging snow storm pushing her back, Maia started her short trek through the godswood to the Wall. She hoped – more likely, prayed – that some of her allies still remained there, or she was a goner for sure.

The jog didn't take long, though she was walking slower than usual due to the overwhelming amount of wind being shoved in her direction. Maia was smarter this time around and wore a heavy winter jacket, and god, was she thankful for it. As she neared the giant mound of ice, she noticed the usual men manning the gates from above. They saw her little, black presence soon, trying to peer farther to see who the figure truly was. When she was a few feet from the entrance, Maia noticed her hole she created still hadn't been repaired, and she then looked up.

From above, one of the men shouted, "WHO ARE YOU?" His hollers were almost drowned from the wind.

"It's Maia Sanders, Ser Arthur!" She tried her best to shriek over the howling weather. "I've returned!"

As soon as he squinted and noticed the thick, blonde hair, as light as snow itself, Arthur knew who this former stranger was. He rallied his brothers to open the gates and to tell Jon and Ed of the visitor. The brothers did as they were told, all the while shaking their heads that this was the second party that dropped in today.

Maia let out a breath of relief as the gates of the Wall opened. Her feet and hands shook violently from the cold, red dotted her nose, and her whole face felt like frost. But in a matter of seconds, she was there: in the courtyard of Castle Black once again.

Faces, new and familiar, stared at her in horror, and she didn't know if it was the shock of it all or that she appeared unruly. The first person she recognized was Melisandre, standing above on the deck of Castle Black and staring at her like she'd seen death itself. Then, there was Ser Davos, who quickly rushed to her aid and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, his expression a mask of confusion at her outfit of choice. They were the only two she really needed to feel safe at the moment.

"Lady Sanders, I ... I can't believe it." He muttered, trying to rush her through the army of brothers and Wildlings in the courtyard. "Ser Alliser had everyone believe that he had killed you; that you had died in the storm."

Maia shook her head as the Onion Knight led her inside the castle. "It's a lot more complicated than that."

He nodded. "Ed and Jon will be happy to hear –"

Instantly, Maia whipped her head to Davos, laying a hand on his chest to stop him. "What did you just say?"

"Things got a little complicated here too." He replied. The sound of footsteps running throughout the castle to reach them in the canteen was becoming more prominent.

The blonde slowly lofted a brow, already wanting to know more, but her movements were halted at the call of her name.

"Maia."

She felt as if time stopped as her eyes rested on Jon Snow's. It couldn't be; she'd watched him die. But there he was, standing right in front her, more alive than ever. She felt her heartbeat quicken at the mere sight of him. He was real, and he was there.

Maia slapped a hand onto her mouth to drown out her sob as Jon sprinted towards her, quickly wrapping the woman his arms. She buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, and he for her, already noticing the familiar scent of berries never wavering. He missed her scent. He missed the warmth of her. Truly, he just missed her. He didn't believe she would be here, in his arms again, but his dreams were a reality as she held onto him tighter and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"You're alive," they repeated into each other's ears.

The two leaned away as Jon held onto her reddened cheeks. He wiped away the tears the stained her face, whispering, "I love you," before kissing her forehead with enough passion to fuel Maia's entire body.

Ed moved next to Ser Davos with a smirk. "Well, I truly didn't see that coming."

"You're an oblivious fool," Davos grunted before tapping his finger on Maia's shoulder. The woman turned, still embraced in Jon's hold. "I can see that Lord Snow will be taking you to your chambers, m'lady. I welcome you back to Castle Black."

"As do I," Ed added, walking away with the knight.

Jon ran his fingers through his lover's hair, a smile gracing his features. It felt so good to smile. "Shall I escort you?"

Maia giggled, remembering how much she missed the man's subtle wit. "Of course –"

"Jon?"

The pair turned to a young lady walking down the stairs of the common room. She was unknown to Maia, but she admired the beautiful head of red locks she had. It was almost as if the girl breathed fire. Her face alone was the most stunning Maia had ever seen. For a long moment, the two girls just stared at each other, until Maia remembered her ex muttering her name –

"Sansa," Jon cleared his throat. "I didn't hear you coming, but I must introduce you to someone."

The red-headed beauty nodded, sauntering towards Jon.

"Maia, this is Sansa. Sansa, Maia." He gestured between the two. "Sansa is my half-sister, who has just returned from a long journey with her party. Maia is my ..."

The blonde shrugged when he had trailed off.

"Your lady," Sansa finished as a grin made its way to her face. The young girl held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Maia. You and my brother seem to have some history, so I guess we have a lot to catch up on."

Maia already felt welcomed by this girl, and she instantly knew they both would get along perfectly. Gilly may have been gone, but Sansa would slowly find a place to be her friend as well.

•••

"Your half-sister is too nice. You can't be related to her."

Jon laughed as he sat on the vintage floorboards of Maia's chambers. The fire in front of them was enough to keep them warm, but Jon still kept a cloak wrapped around their shoulders. And for once, the blonde was in Castle Black wearing her own clothes, not a thrown-around corset and skirt. Maia held a cup of soup between her nimble fingers, feeling the sweet taste of onion soothe her frost bite. Hobb had been doing well without her.

"I haven't seen her since I left for the Wall. She disliked me back then, as did my step-mother."

Maia already knew the answer, but asked anyway, "What about your father and actual mother?"

"He treated me well, for a bastard." Jon's eyes casted downward. "I don't know my mother. He never told me."

Derek's voice, of which she had not thought of in a while, echoed through her head: If you want my opinion, the whole "bastard" thing is untrue, he had said once. It's been confirmed – but also unconfirmed – that he's the love child of Lyanna Stark, Ned's sister, and Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenery's brother.

She looked at Jon, noticing the way his face had seemed to fall at the mention of his past. Maia laid a gentle hand on his cheek as a reminder she was there, and his eyes slowly met her own. Her fingers traced the long scar on his forehead while she noticed his hair to be shorter. They shared a look of happiness and Maia turned back to the flames dancing in the hearth.

Jon let out a sigh. It was clear he wanted to talk about an important subject, but took a moment before muttering, "She wants me to take back Winterfell."

"Your home?" Maia replied in disbelief. "But –"

"I'm no longer a member of the Night's Watch. I've died and returned – that is my resignation." He stared at his hands. "I've been planning on where to leave, though since Sansa has come after escaping the wrath of her Bolton husband, where I go, she does. And now, you as well. But I'm tired of fighting, Maia."

The blonde released a huff. "I know you're looking for me to agree with you, but I can't. You're Jon Snow, the son of Eddard Stark, and I believe you're destined for greatness. You're not meant to live calmly by a ranch with a family."

"I don't want greatness, Maia. I wish I never left Winterfell." His eyes fell on her, watching as her orbs danced with the flames licking at the edges of the wood in front of them. She was truly mesmerizing.

Maia nodded, her face falling into a frown. She hesitated before asking, "What did you see?" He looked at her with a confused expression. "Is there ... an afterlife?"

Jon shook his head. His fingers brushed her own as he sighed. "No. All I saw was blackness. They shouldn't have brought me back. I feel different now, like a part of myself was lost when I came back."

"Don't say that."

"It's how I feel.  Everyone keeps putting this big weight on back: that I have a destiny. What if I don't want that?" He kneeled closer to the fire, throwing a piece of wood in and watching it crackle. Maia couldn't think of a proper response as he went to sit near her again. "Enough about I, you have yet to explain where you have gone; what you have learned. I still remember what you told me before I was betrayed, and though it's still hard to wrap around my head, I'm willing to listen."

For the first time in her life, Maia had never felt more content to finally tell Jon Snow everything there was to know about herself.