The sea was calm on his passage to Khalidor, the cold winds of the North grew all the more bitter above the waves. A Southerner would have no doubt taken the entire voyage below deck to avoid the icy sea spray, Jon found it bracing and inviting. Growing up in The North one respects the cold but doesn't fear it, its like an old friend that is never late but sometimes can wear out its welcome. Jon especially as he flexed his hand beneath his soft, leather gloves. He had discovered the power of his gift during the war, The Hand of Winter it was called. One in a thousand Starks have it, the ability to wield winter as a weapon. Jon grew up afraid of it but never truly experienced what it could do. Not until the war, not until the Wildlings came for his home. He tapped into his power and used it to it's full potential and with it, he won the war.
Jon clenched his fist, chasing away horrors of what he had done with his gift during the war. The war was done and he had to remember that. He was going to friends, he was going to allies and peace and good tidings. The war was done, it was over.
"Your Grace?"
Jon turned to the sound of a woman's voice, familiar and friendly.
"Lagertha."
Jon said in greeting to the Khalidorian woman who'd grown to be a close and trusted friend over the past three years. She smiled and took hold of one of the rigging lines as she stared out across the sea, toward her home.
"After all this time, coming home, I was starting to think I would never leave The North."
Jon chuckled and ran his fingers through his obsidian hair.
"Glad my home was hospitable."
He said in jest. She smiled wryly.
"You know what I meant, The North is beautiful in it's classical way but Khalidor. Its a fusion of old traditions and the path to the future. King Acaelus wants Khalidor to be more than just a frozen kingdom that has been around since the dawn of time and Prince Dorian ensures we do not forget where we came from. It's like no other place in the world."
Jon nodded slowly as his eyes began to make out the tops of towers through the sea fog.
"Well as someone from one of those frozen kingdoms that has been around since the dawn of time I'm grateful to have friends in Khalidor, both new and old."
He said, turning to her and outstretching his hand.
"I couldn't have saved my home without you Lagertha. You personally saved my sisters life and without your forces bolstering ours I fear the war may have ended with a much differently."
She shook his hand but only laughed.
"Oh I don't know Jon, I'm sure you still would have won... eventually."
They shared a laugh before Lagertha fell silent, the towers of her homeland coming into view more clearly now. He could hear bells in the distance heralding their arrival. He wondered what Dorian would make of his three ships returning after three years. Khalidor didn't even know the war was over, or that Jon was King.
"Jon?..."
She said softly, her voice hesitant. Jon turned curiously as Lagertha seemed to look out at her home as if saying goodbye to a loved one.
"What would you say if I told you I'd like to stay on, as part of your royal guard... permanently. I know your Kingsguard isn't fully assembled yet and you and I have fought together, bled together. Some of my best memories are of trying to keep your head firmly in place atop your shoulders. I'm an only child of long dead parents, I have no husband, no children. I live to fight and in you I have found someone I would not only fight for but die for."
Jon was honestly at a loss for words. Since meeting Lagertha she'd often spoke of little else but home, about Khalidor and all its wonders. To hear she wanted to return to The North with him, serve as his Kingsguard was a shock to say the least but also an honor.
"I can think of no one I'd rather have watching my back but... you're not my soldier to order. I'll have to talk with Dorian."
"Thank you, Jon."
He nodded and she was off, to prepare for landing as Khalidor seemed to do the same. The docks were nearing now and he could make out ferry hands preparing to receive the Khalidorian transport vessels. Jon smiled softly as he headed toward the gangplank to greet his old friends. As the ship was tied to it's mooring even from this distance Jon could hear music playing, beautiful music that whispered promises of strong drinks, good company and rich food. As he walked by the gang plank Lagertha shadowed him, ever the guardian, even here. It felt good to have someone watching his back since he decided to leave Ghost at home with Arya.
"Is there some sort of celebration going on?"
Jon asked.
"It must be a festival for Nysos from the sounds of it, always fun. There's more drinking, food, sex and dancing than you'd know what to do with Your Grace. Oh and it's a masquerade ball, you'll need a mask."
"Where would I get one of those?"
Lagertha pointed out a long line of stalls leading up the docks and into the street.
"During festival times mask sellers arrive in force, look there!"
Jon and Lagertha stopped at a particular stall where a man was selling animal masks, one in particular caught his eyes. He almost laughed at the irony.
"A white wolf."
Lagertha said as Jon picked up the decorative piece. It was really quite beautiful and reminded him of his life long companion.
"Perfect."
Jon said with a smile before paying the man and heading to where Lagertha had directed should house the festivities.