AN: Recently marathoned GoT. This OTP made me want to write a fic bc WHY GRRM WHY?! In my head, they're a lot older than they are in the show (they're even younger in the books I heard). So like. Pretend they're 15&17 or 16&18 and it'll be less creepy.
"Somewhere Only We Know" originally by Keane, but I like the Lily Allen ver and think the song is PERFECT for this OTP. I also listened to "Stole the Show" by Kygo.
If you want to see the pic I drew for this fic, go to the story on my AO3 account (putputters).
And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything,
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?
Brandon finds himself in the monochrome forest again. His perception of the woods is strange. The trees seem much taller than before, as if someone had pulled on the tops and stretched them out as far as they could go. He swears he sees figures in the trees, but whenever he spots the shadows, he blinks and then they are gone. His senses are dulled, as if someone had completely overdressed him for an easy winter, outfitting him with thick gloves, socks, many heavy layers, and a hat of thick fabric that completely covers his ears. He cannot focus completely, the edges of his vision are blurry and his eyes can't seem to look at any one thing long enough for him to remember any real details about it. He cannot feel the texture of the ground he walks on, or the foliage he brushes against as he makes his way through the woods. He cannot hear the crunch of twigs and leaves as he walks, even though he knows he surely should be making some noise.
But he does hear the caws of a raven, somewhere above him. He turns around, the movement slow and heavy, trying to figure out where the raven that's been haunting his dreams is. The enigmatic three-eyed raven.
"You'll not find it if it doesn't want to reveal itself," a voice from behind him says.
He turns back around and sees a taller boy, slightly older, with light brown curls. It's Jojen.
But Jojen's dead. And Brandon says so aloud, adding, "You can't be here. It's impossible."
The lighter-haired boy laughs. "You know as well as I that the unexplainable is possible, though sometimes completely out of our control." He sits down on a log that's suddenly appeared.
Brandon sits down as well, to the left of Jojen, staring at his own legs for a short moment. It always bothers him, every time he has a dream, or a vision as Jojen often corrected (when he was alive), where he has legs that work and then wakes up to the reality where they don't. Brandon's well aware that he's always going to be crippled, but at least he has the chance to be able to walk and run, even if it's all in his head.
"How's my sister faring?" Jojen asks.
"She's upset, but holding on. We didn't exactly get a lot of time to grieve, y'know. Considering you just died only some hours ago." He turns to stare at his friend and leans in towards him. "I'd almost think you were alive if I wasn't absolutely sure that you knew you were going to die."
Jojen raises an eyebrow, but doesn't move as Brandon leans in a bit more.
"She's still angry at herself for not making it to you on time, even though we all knew you couldn't be saved." Brandon reaches a hand up to pat Jojen's cheek, which feels far too solid for a figure in a dream.
It's strange, but even though just a short moment ago, he couldn't at all focus on the scenery, he can clearly see every detail about Jojen's face. He can count each eyelash, every freckle, and it seems almost like he can see the deep green of Jojen's eyes, despite the fact that everything is colorless. Brandon's eyes trace the lines of Jojen's face, every angle, curve, and dip. He can't seem to look away from his friend. He pulls his hand back.
Jojen breaks their eye contact and looks to his feet. "It had to happen. We had to get you to the three-eyed crow."
Brandon scoffs. "It doesn't mean we had to be happy about it." He looks at his own feet as well, frowning. "I'm sorry, Jojen... I didn't mean for anyone to die for me."
Jojen's lips curl into a soft smile. "I knew from the moment when I left my home that I wasn't going to survive. It's no fault of yours, Bran." Then he playfully bumps shoulders with Brandon. "It'd be a shame if you didn't find your three-eyed crow though. You did find him, right?"
Brandon bumps him back and grins. "Of course we did, it would be dishonoring your memory if we didn't find him after all that effort and sacrifice." He looks up, staring at the tops of the trees mostly and whatever little grey sky is revealed. "You know what's funny? I've seen lots of people die in front of me, all I can remember of them are their expressions of agony or gruesome images of their corpses. But even right after I witnessed your death, I pictured you as we first met, your gentle, nobleman face smudged with dirt and your clothes all torn and messy." He laughs.
Jojen chuckles and with his left hand, ruffles Brandon's soft, straight, brown hair as he says, "Well, Meera and I had met you after a long trek ourselves. Excuse me for being unable to present myself appropriately, my Lord."
Brandon pulls Jojen's mussing hand away from his hair by his wrist. "Oh, shut up. Time's long past for formalities between us. We're close, are we not?" He gets into Jojen's space, still holding Jojen's wrist, and smiles up smugly at his friend.
Jojen leans down to get into Brandon's space too, with a matching smile. "That we are, Bran. Very close, wouldn't you say?" His lips are nearly touching Brandon's as their noses nudge each other.
Their thighs and knees touch as they're turned towards each other and Jojen's breath blows on Brandon's face in warm puffs. Brandon's face warms and he feels a heat coil in his belly. He suddenly finds it hard to swallow his saliva and when he does, it's such a loud gulp, he's sure that Jojen's heard it. He clears his throat and whispers in a surprisingly low voice, "Very."
Jojen's cheeks have become a bit pink and he licks his own lips. His pulse races, matching Brandon's, and Brandon can feel it from where their bodies meet.
Though we're perhaps a bit too close at this moment, Brandon thinks. It's not like he's never imagined the possibilities- But then he abandons that train of thought as Jojen leans in that slightest bit to kiss him. He sharply inhales at the contact, but lets the exhale out as a moan when Jojen's teeth pull on his lower lip.
One of Jojen's hands finds its way to the nape of Brandon's neck and the other cups his face. He holds him gently in his hands as he kisses the corners of his lips before nudging them open with little licks. When Brandon groans at the first touch of their tongues, Jojen lets out a harsh exhale and tilts Brandon's face upwards so he can get his tongue deeper into the brunet's mouth. He sucks hard on Brandon's tongue and lets out his own moan when Brandon's hands wrap around his waist and scratch at his back through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Before, there was never any doubt that what was happening was a dream, but now Brandon can feel and touch and taste Jojen and for a moment, he wonders if this is real. Their mouths are latched onto each other, hot and wet. Jojen's body is almost too warm and firm under Brandon's touch and the sounds of Jojen's harsh panting fills his ears. This is not the body of a dead boy.
But then Jojen bites on Brandon's lip and Brandon feels his eyes water, though he's not sure if that's because Jojen bit a tad too hard or because of the pleasantly unpleasant reality check unknowingly given by Jojen. Brandon's hands make their way to mirror Jojen's position and he indulges himself with a few more minutes of embracing and kissing before he slowly pulls himself away. He finds himself out of breath as he goes, "Well, that was unexpected."
Jojen's eyebrow raises skeptically. "Was it really?"
"Well, it's not like The Sight showed me a vision of us like this. Snogging in the woods. In a dream."
Jojen chuckles. "I didn't think you needed The Sight to figure out that we had an intimate connection apart from our similar abilities, Bran. With all the time we spent together, I'm sure you felt something. Like perhaps an urge to kiss or cuddle? If I'd had the strength and health, I would've taken over for Hodor and been your legs for you sometimes." He wraps an arm around Brandon and leans the side of his head against Brandon's.
Brandon does the same and then sighs. "Of course I felt the urge to touch you and spend time with you alone. But it was,still is, dangerous for us to do things like that when nowhere is safe. Besides, I knew that I liked you more than just a friend, but I didn't know that you felt the same way."
"I thought I was being fairly obvious. Osha disapproved of me after all. You didn't actually believe she hated me just because she thought I was filling your head with black magic, did you? I was intrigued with you before we even met and Osha caught on real quick when we finally did meet. She especially liked to threaten me when you fell asleep, did you know?"
"Well, Osha hates almost everyone, so I didn't notice her special brand of disdain towards you." Brandon flushes. "As far as noticing how Osha behaved to others, I was preoccupied with how much she hated your sister."
Jojen laughs. "That's because the two are too alike. I was glad when you finally got them to play nice by scolding them."
There's a moment of silence before Brandon turns to Jojen and his eyes are watering as he says, "I wish we had done this earlier, when you were alive. I wish we had more time. I wish you didn't have to die."
Jojen, who of course, expected this talk to happen, turns Brandon towards him and tucks him into his chest, into a tight embrace. He kisses the top of Brandon's head as the brunet lets out a wail and begins sobbing. "Shh, shh, Bran. You are so kind and brave, and you embrace all that fate and our visions have thrown at you. You're young and you're Brandon of the family Stark; you cannot afford such regrets. I'm here now, you and I are together at this moment."
Brandon's hands tremble as he clenches the back of Jojen's shirt. Brandon may be young, but he is no fool. There is no guarantee that once this dream is over, he will see Jojen again. Jojen's body was obliterated by the spells that a child of The Children casted. Brandon will not even have a body to take back home to put into a grave to visit.
Jojen seems to sense his thoughts and pets Brandon's hair. "You will see me again. I wasn't sure if I could meet you in your dreams as a ghost, but here we are. If it's possible, it can be done again. I'm sure it'll be easier once you become stronger and gain more control over your powers. And for certain, Death will reunite us. But you must live a long, happy life, Bran. You must become Lord of Winterfell once again and bring peace to the country and to The North."
Brandon pulls back from Jojen's chest, but leans in to rest his forehead against Jojen's. He's sniffling and his tears won't stop. It's too much; most of his family is dead and he's got the pressure of fulfilling some sort of magical destiny related to the North and bringing peace to the country. Brandon can handle war and the responsibilities of having his powers, but he cannot handle them and be consumed by the hole left behind by the deaths of his beloveds. "I can't- Not without you-" Not without his close friend, mentor, and would-be lover.
Jojen kisses Brandon softly. "Yes, yes you can. The physical end of me does not mean the end of you or of us. You can do this. Don't give up, I'll always be with you. Bran, I love you. Now you've got to wake up."
Wait!
Wake up.
Don't leave me! Please!
Wake up!
I love you too, Jojen!
"Wake up already, Bran!" Meera shouts as she jostles him a bit.
He pulls himself to sit upright and realizes his face is all wet from tears. He wipes at it with his sleeve and sniffles.
"You okay? You have a bad vision or something? Nightmare? It sure looked like something awful, but I only noticed near the end because by the time I woke up, your furs were already soaked and you were tossing and turning and whimpering." She sits down next to him and puts an arm around his shoulder. "I know all this is a lot to take in, but we made it here." She hesitates before she says, "Jojen wanted you to be here no matter what."
Brandon feels a breath of cold air on the back of his neck and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine Jojen right beside him, opposite Meera. He tears up even more. Meera stays by his side as he scrubs at his face with his sleeve for a couple of minutes. "Thank you, Meera," he says.
She stands up, a bit teary-eyed too, but holding back well enough, and dusts herself off. "You're welcome. Now I'm off to find that little girl, or not-girl, and see if we can get some food." She walks off down one of the corridors of the cavernous home beneath the rock.
He whispers, "Thank you, Jojen."
A second after, there's another cold sensation, but this time it feels like an icy kiss pressed upon his brow.