Merry Christmas Jon Snow

The large dragon’s feet crunches down on the thick ice, leaving oversized footprints in the snow. On his back sat the fair haired Snow Queen, her cheeks slightly rosy from the cold, her hair tied back in her usual braid. Her eyes scanned the White wasteland before her, the snow awash with the softest hint of pink as it reflected the redness in the sky as the sun rose to greet Arendelle.

As Jörmungandr landed and settled himself upon the snow covered hill, Elsa swung her leg over his spine and gently climbed down the dragon until her feet were planted firmly on the snowy ground. Almost as if she was floating on air, Elsa moved through the snow until she came face to face with the head of the large beast. Her arm extended to place her hand on Jörmungandr’s snout, and he closed his bright blue eyes briefly, slowly, in a motion that Elsa always assumed was the dragon version of a kiss, or a hug.
“I enjoy our early morning rides..” she said softly, and Jörmungandr responded with a gentle chirp, nudging himself forward slightly to push his scales further into her hand. She laughed, stroking the icy flesh beneath her fingers before finally pulling her hand back. “Be good today. I’ll be back later this evening..”

Feet crunches against the snow as Elsa made her way towards the outer walls of the city of Arendelle, walking easily over the thickly laid powder as it seemed to part before her feet as she took each step. She loved Arendelle, she loved everything about it. The familiar smell of bread baking every morning as she returned from her morning flights, the sound of children playing in the village square, their laughter always managing to filter up towards the castle. The city was a small one, isolated from much of the known world, too far beyond the wall for the Westerosi to care about them, too close to the Land of Always Winter for the Wildlings to venture near. Then again, after all that had happened with the White Walkers, she’d see to it that the Wildlings were made to feel welcome if they ever did venture this far North.

She looked up at the outside wall. It looked rather plain which just wouldn’t do at this time of year, and so she used her unique form of magic to paint extensive, exquisite decorations of ice upon the brickwork, all along the height and length of the walls, from the ground right up to the very tops of the watch towers. The ice sparkled in the sunlight, giving a very Christmassy look to the entire Kingdom.

Usually, Elsa would have entered Arendelle through the lower gate that lead out to the edge of the Fjord. It had been her way out when she fled from her own coronation, full of fear now that her own secret had been revealed, and it was always the way she snuck out to spend time with her dragons.

This morning, however, Elsa made her way through the main gates, smiling at the people of Arendelle as they gave her greeting. The smell of roasting chestnuts filled the air of the city, the scent of Turkey lingering on the wind. She loved Christmas. It filled her with nostalgic memories of her past, and hopeful dreams of her future while always making sure she appreciated every second of her present.

Sweeping down the grand staircase after a quick bath and outfit change, Elsa chuckled at the sound of Anna’s delightful laughter coming from the drawing room. Christmas was always their favourite time of year, and the Queen was just happy that the sound of joy and laughter were once again filling the rooms of their home.

As she entered the room, she took in the sight she was met with for a few moments. Anna giggling softly as she placed a flimsy paper crown on top of Kristoff’s head. By the tree, Olaf lay reading a book aloud to the two large direwolves of contrasting colours. The snowman’s white figure shimmered in the sunlight that streamed in through the window. She would never quite get used to the little living snowman that graced their lives, but he was a joy. Fenrir, Anna’s jet black direwolf, wasn’t phased by Olaf, and sat watching him curiously as he continued to read. Elsa wondered whether the direwolf understood the words Olaf was speaking, or whether he was just responding to the sound of the snowman’s voice. Beside Fenrir, looking at Olaf with an expression of sheer confusion, was the large white direwolf belonging to their guest. Ghost, as Jon had named him, very much took after his moniker, not just in the colour of his fur, but in the reticence of his movements. While Fenrir had claws that clipped and tapped upon the stone and tile floors around the castle, Ghost moved across them in unmatched silence, resulting in him spooking both Anna and Elsa at various times throughout his visit. Ghost and Fenrir has bonded quickly, not least as Fenrir was the direwolf who had sired Ghost and his siblings. The older wolf had become quite attached to the other, and Elsa wasn’t sure how he would fare when Jon and Ghost returned home.

Feeling someone behind her, Elsa turned her head and smiled, seeing Jon. It felt like years since they had flown dragons together, side by side as they battled against the army of the dead, and there was a new sorrow in Jon’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. He had sad eyes when they first met, the deaths of his father and brother so obviously weighing heavy on his heart the way that the death of Elsa’s parents weighed on hers. She had felt the deep sorrow in him then, but this was different and new. She knew where it came from, whose loss made his eyes this sad, but neither of them mentioned her name.

“Merry Christmas Jon” she smiled softly as she stepped into the drawing room, motioning him inside with her. She frowned, receiving a puzzled look from the Lord Commander
“Merry what?”
At his words, the room became silent, apart from the crackling of the log on the fire. Anna rose from the spot where she had settled and moved over to where her sister and their guest stood.
“Wait, what? You don’t have Christmas south of the Wall?”
“Chris-what?”
“Christmas!” Olaf exclaimed, “that special time of year, where we give presents and have a feast and Kristoff builds a shrine to some old troll for some reason” Elsa watched as Jon’s eyes rested on Olaf for a moment. She was 90% sure that the man from Westeros still couldn’t believe his eyes when met with the walking, talking snowman and she found that quite amusing.
“But what is it?”
“The birth of Jesus” Anna chimed back in, still puzzled that Jon had never heard of Christmas. Everything she learned about Westeros made is seem less and less fun.
“Who?”
“Jesus. The son of God. The baby born in a distant land who died to forgive the sins of the world”
“The baby died?”
“No.. well yes but he wasn’t a baby when he died. He was 30-something. But he died, and then he came back to life. But Christmas is all about baby Jesus”

Elsa had expected questions around the ‘came back to life’ part of Anna’s recounting of the tale, but Jon hadn’t even looked surprised by that revelation. She pondered this for a moment before Anna pulled out a Christmas cracker and shoved one end into Jon’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“A cracker. Just.. pull as hard as you can.. watch” she grinned, taking the other end and giving it a tug. Jon seemed to quickly work out what he needed to do, as he joined Anna in tugging on the cracker until, with a decent ‘bang’, it split open, revealing its inner treasure. Anna, who had a lot of experience pulling crackers, had won the bigger half and squealed in glee as she fished a small silver thimble from within, before pulling out the traditional thin paper crown.
“Perfect colour for you” she grinned at Jon, placing the Stark-grey hat upon his head. Elsa almost burst out laughing. The juxtaposition between the festive Christmas hat and the sulky, confused expression on Jon’s face was too much to cope with and she had to turn away to stop herself collapsing in a fit of giggles.

“Mostly, Christmas is a time for us to show those around us what they mean to us, how much we appreciate them.” Elsa said softly as she moved towards the tree. Kneeling gently, she pulled out a short but wide gift, wrapped in paper of royal blue and purple, decorated with tiny white snowmen. She handed the gift to Jon and watched as he looked it over for a moment before slowly removing the paper. He was so calm, his fingers working so delicately to unwrap the paper in the places that Elsa had secured it, in order to keep it in a good condition and not tear it. To her left, Anna was unwrapping her own present, the area around her a flurry of torn paper.

“What is this?” Jon asked and Elsa moved forward. On Jon’s lap sat half of a box, filled with snow. The Queen gently ran her fingers over the top layer of white, revealing a clearly solid egg beneath.
“It’s the egg of an ice dragon. I thought it was about time that the blood of the dragon took flight once more..”