Não é minha, mas achei lindo! Vim compartilhar, a garota escreve muito bem, e olha que eu li no tradutor do google
Jon Snow & Meera Reed
Jon’s gray eyes studied her intently, watching as her deft but gentle, callused but slender fingers fixed the dressings of his wounds.
These hurts will heal, my lord. But I will have to tend to them myself, she had said a fortnight earlier, when Jon had first woken up. The first things he saw when his eyes opened were faces familiar and strange all at once. His brother Bran was seated by his bed, with the giant Hodor behind him. Ever a sight for the sorest of eyes, Bran had all but tackled Jon, forgetting for the briefest of moments that Jon was gravely injured. In spite of the pain, Jon smiled - he could not recall when he last truly smiled - and took as much strength as he could to wrap an arm around Bran.
Further behind them still stood two people Jon had never met. Bran introduced them as the Lady Meera and her brother Jojen, children of Lord Howland Reed, and it was then that Meera had volunteered her services to care for Jon personally.
Three days later had been when Jon discovered the fate of the men who had hurt him; Bowen Marsh and several others were gone, he was told, but Bran had told him that gone meant dead - and that several arrows from Meera Reed’s quiver had been responsible for it.
So now he studied her. He tried to read her pale green eyes, or the small expressions of her face. Meera gave little away… save for the night prior, as she checked upon Jon in his sleep. He was healing, and fast, but the wounds itched and hurt, and some nights were more sleepless than others. She must not have known then that he was awake when she had pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“I have taken vows,” Jon suddenly said, breaking the silence of the room. Meera met his gaze steadily, and it was as though she understood what he was referring to.
Her cheeks reddened, but just barely, and she withdrew her hands from his side, rising from her chair beside the bed, only to kneel on the stone. “As have I, and as I will, now, my lord.”
“Lady Meera, I—”
“To you, Lord Snow, I pledge the faith of Greywater. Hearth and heart and harvest I yield up to you,” she said, ignoring his calls to stop. “My sword and spear and arrows are yours to command. I shall never fail you. I swear it by earth and water, by bronze and iron… by ice and fire.”
Jon’s eyes were wide, and he stared at her, breathless, when she looked up at him again. “Wh—why?” he managed to ask.
“Jojen has seen what is to come,” Meera replied, and she resumed tending to his hurts as though nothing had happened. “I am to stay by your side, Lord Snow.”
“But I do so willingly,” she continued, cutting him off, and there Jon saw the smallest, briefest of smiles. “Worry not.”
ENDEREÇO NOVO DO FÓRUM!