Jon closed his eyes as a lone tear streamed down his face. He held the letter firm in his hands. The letter that gave him the horrid news. Robb Stark was dead. The King in the North, diseased. His brother, his friend, his… lover. He was gone. Snow shook his head, trying to shook these thoughts of his head as well. He was a nightwatcher. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. But could he take a husband? No, of course he couldn't. It wasn't how things were made. A man for the woman, a woman for the man. It was wrong, but when they were together, it never felt like it. His whole life he felt like he didn't belong. Bastards don't have a place in the world he was brought up to. He could never sit besides Robb in their table, and he would never heir Winterfell from their father. The woman who every brother and sister of him called "mother" hated him, seeing his as a constant reminder of the betrayal of his husband. But Robb, Robb didn't care of him being a bastard. They would pretend to be in the middle of a war, with their wood swords, all afternoon in their childhood, with Theon. They would hear the Maester's words, with a bit of boredom, counting the hours until they could be free. They were friends. Oh, no, they were best friends. Stark and Snow, running around the grounds of Winterfell, playing soldiers, thieves and knights. This was all they were, until that day, when they were swimming in a pool, in the depth of the Godswood, just the two of them. Theon seemed a little off that day, and he stood inside the castle. And in that day, Stark and Snow were just two reckless children, who didn't completely understand love or duty. They did know Jon was a bastard, and Robb was the heir of Winterfell. And they did know that they shared the same father. They did know that one day, Robb was getting married to some woman of an ally house, and that Jon was going to settle down with a girl from the village. But above all these things, they did know, in the moment that Robb got his head out of the water and Jon gazed at him, that what they were doing was wrong. Their minds went into a rush, but as soon as Jon lowered his head to meet Stark's lips, they knew nothing would change the fact that they belonged together. They always had. It didn't matter if it was like a brother, like a friend or like a lover. They were meant to be. And as long they had each other, everything would be fine. But I don't have him anymore. Jon thought, crashing the paper into a tiny ball, and tossing it carelessly at the floor. I'll never have him. He's gone, forever. The Lord Commander got up from his chair. He wasn't Jon Snow, son of Lord Eddard Stark, brother of Robb Stark, King in the North, anymore. He was Lord Snow.
Kill the boy and let the man be born. The phrase passed through his head. Kill the boy and let the man be born.
Yep, its short, but I made it to sherlockada. I didn't even know I shipped them?
Anyway, read&review, please (: